RIGHTFULLY YOUR'S

Part 27

Layla's pov :

As my ears caught the gentle chirping sounds and the warmth of sunlight brushed against my closed eyelids, I found myself once again enveloped in Yusuf's embrace. His arms were securely wound around my waist, and his face nestled into the crook of my neck. In that moment, a rush of memories flooded back, reminiscent of the early days of our marriage when every morning began with the comforting assurance of being in Yusuf's arms.

The sun's rays, akin to a spotlight, highlighted the contours of his face, casting a soft glow on the features that had become both familiar and distant over time. The scene transported me to the initial days of our union, where the promise of our shared journey seemed boundless. I would wake up in Yusuf's arms, believing that our marriage was thriving, unaware of the impending storms that would test its foundations.

This tableau of intimacy and closeness stirred a bittersweet nostalgia within me. It echoed the illusions I once held, thinking that our marital bliss was everlasting. Little did I know that those moments were but fleeting phases, and the present reality starkly contrasted with the rosy dreams of our early days.

In that moment, as I moved Yusuf's hand away from my waist, Suddenly Yusuf shifted and opened his eyes, gazing at me, I looked into his eyes clouded with a mix of melancholy and something akin to the facade of love, I couldn't help but question the authenticity of his emotions. His gaze bore the weight of remorse, yet a lingering doubt persisted – was this sorrow genuine or just another layer of Yusuf's intricate deception?

Breaking the uneasy silence, I asked, "What are you doing here?" Yusuf, seemingly caught off guard, responded with feigned innocence, "What do you mean?" With a determined calmness, I pressed on, "I mean, Yusuf, didn't I explicitly tell you not to come near me?" His puzzled expression transformed into an attempt at evasion, "What do you mean?"

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I asserted, "Yusuf, I told you not to come near me. What part of that was unclear?" His hand reluctantly retreated from my waist and he sat up straightly and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before explaining, "Layla, I was feeling sleepy at night, so I just lay down here. You know I'm not accustomed to sleeping on the sofa."

The room hung heavy with the unresolved tension between us. I moved away from the bed, stood my ground, and uttered, "You can sleep wherever you want; it's not my concern, Yusuf." An edge crept into his voice as he challenged, "Have you gone mad, Layla? How many times have I apologized? How many times do I have to grovel for your forgiveness?" I met his gaze and calmly replied, "Yusuf, Layla Yasin doesn't forgive so easily."

Irritation flickered across his face as he countered, "Have you gone mad, Layla? How many times have I begged for your forgiveness? What should I do? Tell me, Layla. If you say I should grovel at your feet, I'll do it. Just forgive me."

I challenged him, "Fine, Yusuf. If that's what you think will work, go ahead, grovel at my feet. Let's see how the world's renowned and capable businessman begs for forgiveness from his wife." I know he not going to do that, he is one of the most renowned businesses man in the world, he is not going to do this.

But as Yusuf sank to his knees before me, a gesture unexpected and unprecedented, I was momentarily stunned. I had not anticipated this move, nor had Yusuf, judging by the look of surprise on his face as he knelt before me. His eyes met mine, and in that moment, his words cut through the air, heavy with sincerity and desperation.

"Layla, I am willing to swear on everything that I hold dear that there was no flaw in my love for you. I can do anything, Layla, but I cannot bear to be apart from you. I cannot leave you," Yusuf declared, his voice trembling with emotion.