Meri Musibat [Tere Bin FF]

13. 22, 25 - Part 2

A/N: Y'all - there were over 1000 - ONE THOUSAND - comments on the last chapter?! I am flabbergasted, but so thankful glad that the last chapter made y'all feel so much. Thank you! Onto the next chapter, see you on the other side!

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The journey back from the Ali House felt like a descent into a cold abyss, every mile widening the gap between Meerab and Murtasim. He sat in the front of the car, Maryam somehow pushing the three of them into the same vehicle despite his obvious attempt to avoid it, while Maa Begum and Haya went in the other.

A chasm of silence existed between them. His gaze was fixed on the passing landscape as he drove, and her gaze was fixed on the back of his head, as if staring at him would give her all the answers to the unresolved emotions lingering between them.

Yussuf and Nabeela Ali had expressed their gratitude for saving Adam, their words warm and sincere. In contrast, Maa Begum's silence had been like a heavy blanket. Maryam's worried glances in her direction only added to the unease. Haya's presence barely registered in Meerab's tumultuous thoughts as they prepared to leave the Ali Farmhouse.

Murtasim's steadfast refusal to meet her eyes was a torment all its own. It gnawed at her, this deliberate neglect, especially after the kiss that had shattered her world. The way he had kissed her, it wasn't just a brush of lips; it was a claim, an unspoken declaration that she was his.

His words, but she's not you, hung in the air between them, an enigma wrapped in a riddle.

But he refused to speak a word.

And she didn't know what she could say in Maryam's presence that wouldn't give her away. So, Meerab remained quiet, observing how he didn't even dare to look into the rearview mirror in his avoidance. A far cry from the man who seemed to sometimes have difficulty looking away from her when he thought she wasn't looking.

In her room that night, the soft sheets and plush pillows offered no comfort. Sleep was a distant dream, as elusive as the answers she sought. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one echoing louder than the last.

Why had Murtasim kissed her with such desperate hunger, as if he were a man parched, finding an oasis in her lips?

Why had his touch ignited such a fierce passion, leaving her breathless and dazed, her heart racing in a wild rhythm?

Why had he kissed her in a way that redefined her definition of a kiss?

Why did it feel as if he had been holding back a flood of emotions?

Was there a hidden meaning behind the passion of his kiss, was she wrong in assuming that he too had harbored a secret longing?

Did the kiss mean as much to him as it did to her, or was it really a fleeting moment of lost control? Was it really a mistake?

How could he kiss her with such raw passion and then pull away so abruptly, leaving her in a whirlwind of confusion and unspoken desires?

Did his actions signify an internal battle, a clash between his heart's desires and the expectations placed upon him?

Each question swirled in her mind, a maelstrom of doubt and yearning.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized the complexity of what lay between them. It wasn't just a simple matter of attraction; it was a tangled web of emotions, societal norms, and unspoken truths.

The kiss had opened a door to a realm of possibilities, but it also brought forth a sea of uncertainties that she desperately needed to navigate.

She turned on her bed, restless, the moonlight casting shadows that danced across the walls, mirroring the turmoil in her heart. She needed answers, craved them like a lifeline.