Chess & Checkers

6. Memories

TRIGGER WARNING: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

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The calming impact of the warm shower lasted only a few minutes as Meerab entered the bedroom, clad in a fresh ensemble comprising a simple silk sky-blue shalwar kameez adorned with three diamanté buttons resembling a flower on the front and a matching dupatta.

This space, now declared both hers and Murtasim's according to Mai, was originally just Murtasim's room, and it struck Meerab with its vastness the moment she walked in. It surpassed even the room they shared in Hyderabad. Notably, it boasted a small outdoor pool, a hot tub, and an adjoining fully equipped gym. Located in a separate wing on the main floor of the luxurious three story haveli, the bedroom was shrouded in privacy with ample sunlight flooding the room through the floor to ceiling windows.

As Meerab decided to explore the room while brushing her damp hair, her eyes landed on something that had her freezing in her spot.

A small golden frame rested on the nightstand of what she assumed was Murtasim's side of the bed; but the thing that shocked her was the picture inside. The brush was discarded onto the sheets as her feet carried her to the nightstand and she picked up the frame with shaky hands.

Her fingers softly caressed the picture enclosed within the frame; it was a picture of them from three years ago at the annual fundraiser their company had been hosting religiously every year for the past one and a half decade now. It was a random selfie they had taken with huge genuine smiles plastered on their faces. A similar smile reappeared on her lips as she recalled the reason for their happiness.

It had been her third year as part of the company, and she had been tasked with organizing the event. Some call it fate, some call it luck; whatever it may be, that year, they raised the most funds they had ever raised in the twelve year history of the fundraiser, and from every one in attendance, Murtasim had been the proudest.

She could clearly recall that day and the hectic days leading up to the event. The pressure to get everything done on time and the desire for perfection had stressed her out so much that she didn't realize how tired she was until the guests started leaving after the event. It was only then, when she let out a breath of relief she didn't know she had been holding, that she felt the exhaustion. She remembered the sudden relief that washed over her muscles, followed by fatigue, and all she wanted was to go home and sleep for a century.

Back then, she didn't notice it, but now she couldn't help but see how, while she smiled for the camera, Murtasim was smiling at her with the proudest and most affectionate smile she had ever seen. Not her dad, not her colleagues, nor any of the people she had ever called friends—just Murtasim.

As Meerab absentmindedly traced his face through the glass, she suddenly stopped. They looked almost like... a couple — a real couple, she thought, focusing on their faces — even though they were far from that at the time. She remembered the way his arm had wrapped around her waist and how he whispered, "I'm so proud of you" in her ear after the picture. A shiver had run down her spine when his warm breath had caressed the shell of her ear.

Back then, she didn't think much of it, even as his fingers lingered on her waist for a moment longer than necessary before he withdrew his hands and put them in his pockets. But now, she couldn't help but see it in a different light.

Why does this feel so different? What is this feeling? Why can't I understand it?

Do I like him? Do I like Murtasim? Do I lo- no, no not that! It can't be that. I don't even know what that feels like.

Does Murtasim like me? Has he always liked me? Did he like me before our marriage or did he start liking me just recently? Oh god if he liked me before marriage could he possibly have a role in orchestrating this marriage? Did he do this? No, no he couldn't have. He knows how scared the idea of a relationship makes me, he wouldn't.