Doomed From The Start: A Marriage Agreement

chapter 27: A game of fate

               
                         - J A A N V I -

"Oh dear, I'm a stupid woman. Let me go get you kids some tea," Mariam muttered as she rushed to the kitchen.

It gave me an opportunity to focus my attention on Arya. My respect for him grew so much in the last 10 minutes. I know Arya is a man of many layers, but seeing this vulnerable side of him only deepened my admiration.

As I sat beside him, I couldn't shake the strange feeling stirring within me. It was a mix of awe and admiration, tinged with something else that I couldn't quite place.

My heart fluttered in my chest, and I found myself drawn to Arya, and I didn't know if it completely was for his compassionate nature or the way he opened up to me. Perhaps it was a combination of both, but there was something about his vulnerability that resonated with me on a deeper level. As I stole a glance at him, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way.

"You are really incredible," I whispered, my voice barely audible. Yet, as the words left my lips, I realized how deeply I meant them.

"It wasn't entirely selfless," Arya confessed,

"After my.....my grandmother passed away, I was drowning in grief. I felt like I lost all sense of my being. I was barely able to function, let alone think about helping others. But then I met Mariam. She was alone, with no family to turn to, just like I was. And in helping her, I found a sense of purpose again, a way to fill the void left by my grandmother's absence. So, yes, in a way, helping Mariam was a way to heal my own wounds too."

Arya's voice trailed off, his eyes averting as if he's ashamed of his actions. His gaze was distant, lost in thought, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for whatever burden he carried.

I felt a vulnerability in his voice, a raw honesty that made my heart ache for him. I realized how hard it must be for him to battle this grief alone, and now that he's letting out all his vulnerabilities to me, trusting me, it felt truly special.

"Arya, look at me," I coaxed him gently, urging him to meet my eyes. Ever so slowly, his eyes met mine, and I saw a piercing vulnerability in his eyes that he always kept hidden from most people.

"What you've done for Mariam is truly remarkable," I murmured softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand in reassurance. "You've shown her compassion and kindness when she needed it most, and that's something to be admired. Not everyone would go to such lengths to help someone in need, especially when they're dealing with their own grief."

"Never belittle your acts of kindness," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper, "even if they stem from personal pain. It takes a special kind of strength to offer support to others, especially during your own moments of vulnerability."

I paused, letting my words sink in before adding, "You're a good person, Arya, and I'm truly honoured to know you."

Arya's eyes bore into mine, searching for something amidst the depths of my gaze. I could feel the weight of his emotions, the turmoil and vulnerability swirling within him. There was a depth to Arya, a complexity that intrigued me, and I couldn't help but feel a connection forming between us, something that seemed to reach beyond mere friendship.

After a while, he looked away, his throat bobbed as he gulped in a breath. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice shaky.

Despite his inner turmoil, there was a strength in him that was undeniable, a resilience that I found incredibly alluring.

As he kept his gaze averted, I gently squeezed his hand, offering him a silent gesture of appreciation. I wanted him to know that I saw him for who he truly was, that I accepted him without judgment or reservation.