𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

36

Airah POV:

Arsalan has turned my life upside down in ways I never imagined. My heart has been a puddle of confusion since that night a month ago. Every time he's near, my heartbeat races uncontrollably. It's like my body knows something my mind hasn't fully grasped yet. And the sparkles and stars I see around him, they follow him like a magical aura. Am I hallucinating?

The most baffling part is his kindness. Arsalan has always been nice, but lately, he's been more attentive and caring than ever before. When he resigned last week, saying his VIP patient had been discharged, he started spending more time at home. Since then, he's taken over all the household chores. He won't let me cook or clean. I end up sitting on the sofa, binge-watching dramas, while he takes care of everything. It's nice, but it also feels strange. Sometimes, I try to help him, but he rarely lets me. His protectiveness is endearing, yet it scares me.

I'm afraid that if he continues to be this wonderful, I might fall deeply in love with him. And that terrifies me because I've been broken before. What if he doesn't want to be with me? What if he has someone else in mind, someone he wants to marry after divorcing me? What if he only sees me as a friend? The thought of being left alone again, of repeating that painful part of my life, is unbearable.

My mind is a whirlpool of "what ifs." What if he wants a divorce? What if he brings another woman into our home, and I have to see them together every day, a constant reminder of my bitter past? The thought is paralyzing. I promised myself that after the divorce, I would live for myself. But now, I find myself wanting to be with him, to be the one he cares for and protects.

Iqra's words echo in my mind, "If you can love the wrong person this much, imagine how much you can love the right one." Is Arsalan the right one? I shouldn't let my mind wander down this dangerous path, but it's too late. The realization hits me like a wave. Maybe I'm already in love with him. The fear of rejection and heartbreak is overwhelming, but so is the possibility of a future with him. How do I navigate this storm of emotions?

"Feeling good?" Arsalan asks from behind me as he massages my shoulders. His touch is gentle yet firm, and I can't help but wonder why he is always so nice to me. "Yeah," I murmur, my eyes fixed on the horizon where the setting sun casts a golden glow over the ocean. The waves crash against each other, creating a symphony of sounds, and the water shimmers like liquid gold under the sun's rays. The wind blows softly, rustling my abaya as we sit on a mat at the empty beach. As far as my eyes can see, there's no one else around.

"It's beautiful," I say, my voice barely a whisper, overwhelmed by the serenity of the scene.

"Yes, it is," he murmurs back, his fingers tracing gentle circles on my back. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the moment. Maybe he wants to be with me. Maybe he loves me. Because I was in love with him the moment I saw the flower in his car's front compartment. That was a month ago, when he left to buy me those heels and the same day he bought me the bouquet of roses. Out of curiosity, I had opened it and saw a single red rose and a dried one in it. And I knew why it was there-he kept a rose in his car so that he would know when the flowers dried and he could bring me a new bouquet. I admit now. I really love this guy. And what made me love him? I really don't know.

"Ahmed," I say, looking back at him. It has now become a habit to call him that, because whenever I do, there's this beautiful smile that forms on his face because of it.

"Yes, trouble?" he answers, and I smile at the nickname. He's been calling me that for long enough, and when I asked him why, he didn't answer, just shrugged and went on with his chores.

"Let's go in the water," I say, and he helps me stand up. We walk towards the shore, and I pick up my abaya a little so it doesn't get soaked. I laugh as I step into the water, feeling the coolness wash over my feet.

"It's relaxing," he murmurs to himself, his fingers intertwined with mine. I look at him, and the breath is knocked out of my lungs because of his beauty. His jet black hair is a mess because of the wind. I watch him as the sunlight bathes his face, causing his grey eyes to gleam with an almost otherworldly radiance. The grey seems deeper now, like a tranquil sea beneath a twilight sky, with flecks of gold and amber dancing within them. The interplay of light and shadow adds a mysterious allure, making his eyes appear both soft and intense. I find myself lost in their depths, captivated by the way they mirror the serene beauty of the sunset, holding a quiet strength that draws me closer. He looks up at me and smiles, causing the dimples to make an appearance. We stand there for quite a while, the comfortable silence dancing between us.

"Airah?" he finally speaks, his voice gentle but firm. I look at him, but he is staring ahead at the horizon. "Have you enjoyed your time over here?" The question catches me off guard.

"I did. It's one of the best memories of my life," I say, and he hums softly in response.

"I'm glad you did," he says, pausing for a moment. "What are you going to do after... our divorce?" The last part almost comes out as a whisper. I look at him to find him already looking at me. My eyes burn, and I quickly turn away, my lower lip trembling as I bite it to keep from crying. So he does want the divorce. How foolish of me to think he might want me too. But I won't blame him for this. After all, wasn't I the one who demanded it in the first place? I'm the one to blame here.

"Why are you crying?" he asks, and that's when I realize that there's a streak of tears rolling down my face.

"It's nothing. Something just got in my eyes," I say, rubbing my eyes. He spins me around so that I'm facing him, and the setting sun casts a beautiful glow on him. He places my hand on his chest and grabs my waist.

"Let's play a game, Airah. I'll ask you a question, and you have to answer it honestly, and I'll do the same." I nod, my eyes landing on the wedding ring on my hand. A tear escapes, and I quickly wipe it with the back of my hand. "Now answer me, Airah.......Do you really want the divorce?" Do I? No. I don't want it. But I'm afraid. What if I get my heart broken? I'm not ready for that.

"Yes," the words are barely a whisper when I say. He pursued his lips and looks away. His eyes shining brightly from the sunlight.

"Alright, I'll get the divorce papers ready once we're in India."

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