Unveiling Meerab [Tere Bin FF]

17. planning

The afternoon sun poured a golden hue into the guest room they were currently occupying, bathing them in a warm embrace. Underneath the soft glow, Meerab couldn't shake off the intuition that gripped her. As the minutes trickled by, her realization morphed into certainty; the nap her husband insisted upon was but a facade, an unspoken invitation to sink into the comforting cocoon that only a shared bed could offer.

Yet, she couldn't help but feel a surge of affection as she laid there, observing the way the ambient light played upon Murtasim's features, highlighting the softness in his eyes that only she was privileged to witness. There was a tranquil familiarity in this moment, an echo of the nights they'd spent lost in conversation.

Murtasim's breath was steady, yet his eyes held a sparkle of playful mischief, betraying his claim of exhaustion. She noticed the slight arch in his brow, a silent, loving tease that beckoned her into his space, a silent confession that his need for rest paled in comparison to his desire to bask in her presence.

Meerab couldn't help but fall into the unspoken allure. The outside world, with its demands and expectations, seemed to fade away, as if granting them this private haven. With a slow, graceful movement, she allowed herself to shift closer to him, her body aligning with his. She could feel the warmth emanating from him, a beacon that promised safety and home. His scent enveloped her, a fragrant blend of familiarity and masculine earthiness that she had grown to associate with comfort and affection.

Meerab could feel her heartbeat syncopate to the serene rhythm of the moment as Murtasim's gaze drifted over her face with a tenderness that was as comforting as it was intimate. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, tracing a familiar yet enchanting path up to her hair, twirling a stray lock between his fingers. The touch sent a delightful shiver down her spine, stirring the comforting warmth that always seemed to bubble up in his presence.

She couldn't resist the playful rebuke that slipped from her lips, the tease dancing in her eyes as she said, "I told you to keep your hands to yourself, Murtasim." The words, although teasing, were a comforting familiarity.

His smile was a beacon in the softening light, his voice a melodic blend of affection and admiration as he replied, "I can't help it, meri biwi hai hi itni sundar." The words carried the weight of the love and fondness he held for her, making her heart swell with a warmth that seemed to spread through her entire being, despite the roll of her eyes that followed in a gesture of playful annoyance.

But amongst the warmth and playfulness, there lurked a lingering question, a shadow that threatened to cast a momentary pallor on their intimate exchange. She found herself unable to prevent the words from escaping, the curiosity mingled with a hint of concern. "Why did you go see Haya?"

Murtasim's face shifted, a sigh escaping him as the gravity of the situation seemed to settle between them. His words, however, carried no hint of defensiveness, only a sadness that reflected his own frustrations. "She refused to go back to her grandmother - insisted that we bring her back or come see her. We put her off for long enough but her grandmother kept pressuring us to send her and she wasn't listening. I don't know what Haya said to them but it was nothing good because her grandmother and uncles kept calling angrily saying we abandoned her." He sighed, the heavy burden of the situation etched clearly across his features.

Meerab felt a tug at her heart, the memory of the relentless phone calls haunting her mother-in-law filtering back, Maa Begum would sometimes sigh and leave her presence when the phone rang, she guessed it was because of Haya. Haya was a touchy topic in the Khan Haveli, one that both Murtasim and his mother seemed to not want to bring up in front of her.

Mereab could feel the vibration of Murtasim's voice through his chest as he continued to spill the events that transpired, his words transporting Meerab straight to the chaotic scenery he was describing.