After

15| Guilty

15| Guilty

Guilt prowled through her blood as she sat across her Mac in her room, her eyes fixed onto the screen but her mind elsewhere.

Sithara's eyes blinked in approval every thirty seconds but she could hardly understand what her team was speaking about, it sounded a lot Greek, each word bouncing off her head almost instantly. A part of  her was glad it was due Monday to the clients.

"Sure, I understand, we can circle back on this in the evening." She replied, feigning comprehension. It was completely unprofessional but all she could care about was the misunderstanding that had brewed between her and her husband.

Guilt seeped into the cracks of her conscience, leaving her feeling the weight of her regret every second. She had not imagined that one silly act of hers would have such dire consequences.

Her legs bounced in anxiety under the table as she waited for Amanda to stop speaking and end the meet. Each breath of hers weaved a web of remorse, making her thoughts to wander back to Arsalan, to what he must think of her, to what he must feel, to everything bad & disastrous.

Honestly, Sithara could not believe that she had allowed herself this mistake. She had always behaved most respectfully and faithfully. It was totally not her to flirt and fun, she did not even entertain this kind of behavior in college or school yet she had acted foolishly.

Arsalan was clearly hurt and angry but what worried her more was the disappointment that she could spot in his eyes when his gaze flickered between her mobile screen and her, searching for an answer in the depth of her eyes. Arsalan couldn't trust the situation at first because he knew it was not his Sithara to indulge in a fuckery like this.

Her fingers had twitched with the urge to reach out, to explain to him but the wrath on his face held her rooted to her chair. She couldn't move up to him nor was he ready to listen anyway when she tried.

She shut her laptop with a thrust, logging off MSTeams, not waiting for others to say bye. She rushed her way to the study, to Arsalan, her dupatta crawling on the floor behind.

The door creaked open, the sound making Arsalan glimpse at her. It was the peak work hour, and he usually did not expect her or say anybody to disturb him at this time unless it's too urgent. He did not say a word to her and turned his way back to his Mac, clarifying his intentions.

Silence stretched between them as she walked over to him. Burden of it was pressing her down, almost suffocating her.

She pulled a chair, sitting adjacent to him. All she wanted was him to shower his fury upon her, question her, tell her he was hurt and let the matter dissolve. But he did not look in the mood to yield.

"What is it??!" He finally enquired, not sparing her a glance.

Sithara couldn't form a reply. She could not make herself admit what happened. She felt a little ashamed that she let something like this even happen to them.

She knew Arsalan wouldn't doubt her intentions a percent. She knew the messages themselves proved her innocence yet she disliked that something like this even came up.