Ruling Mafia's Heart

30. Wrestling with Emotions

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Myra's P.O.V.

As I stared out of the window, I saw Sir leaving the hotel with his men, and bellboys putting their luggage in the car. The sight of him walking away, getting farther and farther from me, made my heart ache. A pang of sadness washed over me as I wondered if he was leaving forever. 

"Why am I feeling this way?" I questioned myself. "I should be happy that he is leaving. That's exactly what I wanted, right?" 
 
But deep down, I knew it wasn't that simple. Despite everything that had happened, I couldn't deny the connection I felt with him. It scared me how he could make me feel weak, how his presence could compel me in ways I didn't understand. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't repeat my mother’s mistakes, that I wouldn't let him come close to me again. Yet, when he was near, it felt like there was an invisible force pulling me towards him. 
 
No! I will not fall weak. He is going, and it's for the best. There is nothing between us. Nothing. And I won't repeat my mother’s mistake. I can't fall for his words or his eyes. He is a criminal, a monster, just like my dad.
 
I reminded myself of the pain and the darkness that he had brought into my life. The memories of the past, the brutal experiences I had been running away from, resurfaced because of him. He made me feel those horrors again, and I almost succumbed to a severe panic attack. I couldn't let him have that power over me. 
 
After taking a deep breath, I watched as his eyes desperately scanned the surroundings, searching for me one last time before leaving. It was as if he wanted to imprint my image in his mind, to capture that final glimpse of me. But I couldn't let him. I couldn't let myself be swayed by his presence. 
 
Placing my hand on my heart, I made a silent vow to box these feelings for him somewhere deep within me. I couldn't let them consume me. My heart grew heavier with each step he took towards his car, but I knew it was for the best. 
 
Although I was determined to keep him at a distance, to protect myself from the fear and uncertainty he brought into my life, I couldn't deny the small part of me that didn't want him to leave. It was a conflicted feeling, one that I couldn't fully understand or explain. But I knew I had to push it aside and focus on moving forward without him. 
 
Maybe I should have listened to him when he came to explain things to me this morning. A sudden thought crossed my mind, shocking me.
 
No! I'm messing it up again. I chastised myself and turned around, determined to get ready for my shift and put all these conflicting thoughts behind me. 
 
Stepping into the shower, I let the warm water wash away the remnants of the past. Rosy was already out for her shift, and I had only thirty minutes left to prepare myself. I hurriedly washed my body, trying to focus on the task at hand. 
 
After drying off, I moisturised my skin and proceeded to put on my uniform. As I pinned my hair into a neat bun, my hands paused for a moment. His face flashed in front of my eyes, and I remembered how he once confessed his admiration for my open hair. His eyes had been so soft, filled with emotions that made me feel a strange flutter in my stomach. Something was captivating about his deep ocean-like blue eyes, something that drew me in. 
 
But I quickly shook off those thoughts. I couldn't let myself be swayed by memories or the allure of his words. I had to stay strong and focused. 
 
Will he ever come back? Will I ever see him again? The questions nagged at the back of my mind, and a few tears escaped my eyes. I wiped them away, refusing to let myself be consumed by these thoughts. 
 
"No, Myra," I whispered to my reflection. "He was only here for only a few days, and you're behaving like a stupid teenager. This is not good at all." 
 
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I couldn't let him occupy my mind or my heart any longer. Whatever had happened between us, it was in the past, and it needed to stay there. 
 
"God! I want him to leave my mind," I murmured, frustrated. I wiped away the remaining tears and swiftly pinned my hair into a bun. With one last glance at my reflection, I locked the room and made my way towards the hotel entrance. 
 
As I approached the hotel, a sudden realisation struck me. I had run out of the hotel that day, in his shirt, without my undergarments. The implications of my actions hit me like a ton of bricks. What would everyone think of me? How would they judge my character? 
 
Panic surged through me, and my whole body trembled at the thought of the nasty comments and judgment I would face. I felt rooted to the spot, unable to move, paralysed by the fear of the consequences. 
 
"Myra, you're here? Well, it's good. Go and check room number 451. Quick," the manager's voice broke through my thoughts, jolting me back to reality.