The Eclipsed Heart

Chapter 12

Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the moon, Meerab moved with hushed steps, making way through the dappled shadows that played upon her path through the dense branches. As she approached Murtasim, her eyes, initially fixed on the stoic figure of her husband, gradually shifted towards the place where he sat in contemplation.

A gravestone, adorned with fading flowers and touched by the caress of time, marked a spot of profound significance. The name etched upon the weathered stone, "Mahi Kazim Shah," whispered of a soul whose presence lingered in the ethereal embrace of memory.

The gravity of the revelation hit Meerab with a force she hadn't anticipated. Mahi, the secret whispered in their tumultuous argument, wasn't a secret at all. The woman who had lingered in the shadows of their marriage, an unseen specter, now lay beneath the earth in this serene corner of the world.

As Meerab stood at the edge of the clearing, her heart echoed with the weight of realization. The enigmatic place, the secret Murtasim had guarded, unfolded before her eyes. Mahi's grave, a testament to a past hidden from her, lay in the embrace of nature's sanctuary. The unraveling truth left Meerab standing at the crossroads of her emotions, torn between the feeling of betrayal and the stark reality that awaited her.

Murtasim remained seated, a solitary figure in the fading light, his secrets laid bare with Mahi's final resting place. The wind whispered through the oak trees, carrying the echoes of unspoken truths that lingered in the air.
Amidst the fading light, Meerab felt a mixture of embarrassment and confusion, burdened by the weight of her earlier accusations of cheating against Murtasim. Swiftly attempting to make her exit without letting him know, she somehow accidently stepped on a brittle bark, shattering the sacred hush that enveloped the surroundings. Murtasim, jolted by the unexpected sound, spun around to find Meerab standing there, her brows knitted in consternation.

Shocked by her unexpected appearance, Murtasim questioned, "Meerab, what—what are you doing here, and how did you get here?"

Meerab, feeling a wave of embarrassment washing over her, immediately admitted, "I—I just— you hadn't returned, and it was midnight. I was so overwhelmed with anger that I—" She paused, the weight of her emotions making her words falter momentarily.

Murtasim, keenly observing her turmoil, completed her sentence with a wry smile, "You wanted to catch me red-handed?" Meerab, her cheeks reddening, eyes closed in remorse, could only nod lightly, acknowledging that there was no use of lying about it.

Curiosity tinged with a hint of amusement laced Murtasim's voice as he asked, "But how did you get here?" Stepping closer, he sought an explanation. Meerab's gaze shifted toward the entrance, her eyes scanning the surroundings as she revealed, "I asked Farukh to bring me here." However, there were no signs of Farukh's presence there.

Turning to face Murtasim once more, Meerab's expression softened with regret as she swiftly apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Maybe I shouldn't have reacted so impulsively." The moonlight, like a silent witness, played on the contours of their faces, emphasizing the delicate tension between apology and impulsivity.

Murtasim, shaking his head with a poignant smile, added depth to his response, "No, actually, it's my fault. I should have clarified things, but I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it."

A hushed quietness enveloped them, hanging in the air like a fragile veil. Meerab, sensing the need to breach the uneasy silence, cleared her throat before venturing a hesitant question, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?" Murtasim, his expression a tapestry of emotions, nodded solemnly, beckoning with a subtle gesture to move towards a nearby bench where he could share the weight of a past that had been hiding within the depths of his heart.