I'm sure you've heard a lot about unrequited love, but what if I say there exists an unwilling love, hidden somewhere between the echoes of silence and the whispers of the heart's secrets? A love that fights to stay buried, yet yearns to be discover...
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Zumar stumbles, fumbling as she tries to cover her tracks. Opening the doorway just a crack, she is shocked to see Rashed standing before her. But that's not all.
Dishevelled, he's a mess. Hi,s perfectly gelled hair is now scruffy, coat buttons undone, and red lines pulsate in his eyes. He bangs his fist against the doorframe causing her to gasp and jolt in place. His breath reeks of alcohol and the usually confident demeanor is replaced with an unsettling aggression.
"What happened? Are you alright?" she asks with fear creeping into her voice. She tries to step out of the room, but he pushes the door open entirely and strides inside, shoving her aside with a force that makes her stumble backwards.
She turns around to find the room empty and sighs in relief. Amaan must be hiding somewhere and she is grateful for his wits. Her heart pounds in her chest and she can feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
"T-the man," Rashed stammers, taking support from the armrest of the sofa where Amaan was seated earlier before collapsing onto it. "He said he didn't spill on your dress."
"Are you drunk?" she asks, worry lines forming on her forehead as warm blood rushes to her ears in pure fear. She tries to maintain a calm exterior but the tremor in her voice betrays her.
"He said," Rashed fumbles over his words again. Yes, he was definitely drunk. "He said, you paired up with some-with some guy to make a fool out of him."
"You don't seem well to me," she dodges the question, trying to stay calm. "I am calling the driver. We need to get out of here." She hurries to grab a glass of water and brings it in front of his face.
"N-no," he shouts, shoving the glass away from her hand causing it to crash to the floor and shatter. "Tell me who he was. Your lover?"
"God, Rashed! Did you seriously believe that?" she scoffs, trying to steady her racing heart. "He didn't know what he was talking about, and you clearly don't either," she says, exasperated. The shards of glass glint menacingly on the floor.
He looks at her angry face, which is a cover-up. She is truly freaking out inside and to make matters worse, Amaan is still inside the room, probably hearing all of this. She can feel the weight of his hidden gaze adding to her anxiety.
"Zumar," Rashed calls out in a very meek voice. "You know I can't see you with any other guy, gorgeous. You can't do that to me, you know that, right?" He is asking in a state of delirium and his voice is slurring with each word.
Movement from behind the cupboard makes her look up. She sees Amaan's face—he is looking at her, and she is sure he is disgusted.
She feels utterly embarrassed, wishing the ground would swallow her up. The room feels suffocating and she struggles to keep her composure.
