Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

26 - Saza

Stood in the center of their newly unveiled home, Meerab tossed his suggestion away, crossing her arms instead as an act of manifest defiance. ''Phone dou mujhe,'' she commanded sharply, unimpressed at his elusive behaviour amid their date. (Give me the phone.)

''Kya?'' Murtasim's entire face scrunched in response. (What?)

''Sunna nahi? I want to see.'' Meerab shouted back. Panic reverberated through the walls of their home, fist digging into her hips. (Didn't you hear me? Let me have a look and then I won't be able to doubt you.)

Bemused, Murtasim blinked profusely at an argument that had sprouted from nothing, one that couldn't be solved with a quick fuck. He looked away to the open doors, getting her out of view to compose himself before being harsh. ''Sunna hai, Meerab, and the answer is no.'' (I've heard you.)

''No?'' Meerab spluttered in shock. The word was utterly foreign and failed to settle in her mind, especially when it came from him.

Murtasim didn't revoke his statement and succumb to her will, so she pulled away. Surprise hazed her mind from meeting a new Murtasim that didn't oblige her every command the second it left her lips.

''No, but Meerab, just let me explain —'' Murtasim drew closer and tried to hold her hand but she flinched, not recognising him; the Murtasim she knew wasn't stern and didn't mind sharing.

''Kuch nahi sunnah maine,'' Meerab mumbled to herself, spinning to see the way out. Her eyebrows knitted together, trying but miserably failing to shake away the feeling of betrayal clawing in her heart and making her lungs ache horribly. ''Main ghar jaa rahe hun.'' (I don't want to hear anything. I'm going home.)

''Yehi tumhara ghar hai,'' Murtasim reminded, now breathing heavily as she planned to leave him when he had just laid out his victories – the plan had been to bask in an evening away from worries but the phone, or what was on the phone, had betrayed him. (This is your house.)

Her expression evolved into a frown of disgust at him, trying to keep her captive when he only chose to share selectively — Meerab wasn't as impressed by the house as much as she was by his sweet talk and loyalty, and now all of it had been washed away with an ebbing tide from the word 'no.' ''Waapis hotel ja rahe hun.'' Meerab grabbed the keys from the kitchen counter and opened the Uber app on her phone. (I am going back to the hotel.)

''Okay, i'll take you,'' Murtasim insisted on Meerab turning her back, his hard sole hitting hardwood to accent the sudden step.

But Meerab blanked him.

In the same second, Murtasim got hold of her elbow. The touch was soft but firm upon her blue blouse until it crinkled between his fingers, the exact opposite of what he'd done in the closet.

Meerab turned to ice and hissed, ''Don't touch me,'' while wrenching her shoulder away. The idea that he kept secrets from her was nauseating, worse than seeing him with Alizey at the polo match.

''Meerab,'' he warned, voice deep with concern at such hostility from her. ''Jaana hai tou saath chalte hain. Akeli nahi jaa sakte.'' Murtasim ordered as both, husband and bodyguard, focusing to try read the emotions flashing across her face; bewilderment, hesitancy and enmity mixed until he felt her pulling away. (If you want to go, we'll go together. You can't go alone.)

Meerab let out a hurt, wheezy huff as he tried to exert his right over her. The order was futile; she needed to get away. First, it was the mujra, then the proposal he didn't tell her about and now the phone that he didn't share after she clearly voiced her distaste for the behaviour.

Meerab waited a second with stinging eyes but Murtasim was stoic, firm in not giving the phone over. A choked breath broke free and Meerab realised he wouldn't budge so a step was stumbled backwards and she knocked her kitchen counter, gulping her disillusionment down. Then, hurried steps were taken before she opened the door to London at night, alone with a tearing heart.