Tere Bin

Chapter 9

Murtasim entered the hospital room, his heart pounding in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of what he had done. The fluorescent lights above flickered softly, casting a sterile glow over the stark white walls, the clinical atmosphere contrasting sharply with the chaos that swirled within him. He kept his gaze directed downward, unable to face the look of horror that he feared would be etched on Meerab’s face. Each step toward her felt like walking through thick mud, every inch heavier than the last, as if each thought of his shame added weight to his body.

When he finally reached her bedside, the sight of her trembling figure shattered whatever remnants of strength he had left. Meerab’s eyes, once bright and filled with life, were now sunken and haunting, reflecting the pain and fear that had consumed her. They locked onto Murtasim, and in that moment, he felt as if he were staring into a mirror—an abyss that revealed the monster he had become. The intense gaze held a storm of emotions: anger, betrayal, and an overwhelming sense of loss.

“Meerab…” he whispered, his voice barely escaping his lips, laden with regret.

Yet all he received in return was the sharp intake of her breath, a broken gasp that spoke volumes. Meerab’s body tensed with every syllable that left his mouth, as if each word was a dark reminder of the hell he had cast upon her. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but her lips trembled without forming words. The trauma he had inflicted upon her seemed to have stolen her voice, rendering her paralyzed in her own pain.

“Murtasim…” she finally managed, her voice shaking, almost a mere echo.

But it wasn’t the name spoken in love. It was through clenched teeth, layered with an ocean of fear and shame. Murtasim felt the weight of her gaze wrapping around him, suffocating him. As he looked down, he could see the trembling of her frail body, each movement a testament to the emotional ordeal she was enduring. A wave of nausea washed over him, spiraling deep into his gut as the reality of his actions crushed him.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words feeling utterly inadequate. How could such simple words ever encapsulate the enormity of the damage he had done?

As if sensing his anguish, Meerab shook her head, the motion heavy with disbelief. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, seeking a semblance of protection, a futile attempt to guard herself from the memories that assaulted her. Murtasim’s heart raced, each beat a reminder of how he had violated not just her trust, but her very spirit.

Suddenly, the air thickened with tension as he realized he was becoming a trigger, a living reminder of the nightmare that had unfolded. “I can’t...,” she finally breathed, her voice breaking, and that single utterance tore through him like a knife.

The weight of guilt pressed down so heavily that he felt as if he were drowning in an ocean of regret. He took a step back, instinctively trying to distance himself, wishing he could evaporate into nothingness. As he turned away, he heard her soft voice plead through her tears, “Get out.”

It was barely above a whisper, yet it cut through him like a sacred chant—a command, a plea, a final barricade she erected to shield her heart from further harm. Murtasim nodded slowly, unable to look her in the eye a moment longer. His world spun as he withdrew, feeling the walls of the room close in around him.

He stumbled into the hallway, the fluorescent lights pulsating above, mirroring the chaos in his mind. Each step away from her felt like running from gravity, like defying the very essence of his soul. He felt lost, a specter haunting the corridors of shame, filled with echoes of the pain he had caused.

As he reached the door, he paused for a fleeting moment, filled with tormenting thoughts. He wanted to turn back, to apologize, to tell her how incredibly sorry he was, but how could he when every word was drenched in blood? Instead, he pushed open the door, escaping into the sterile silence of the hospital.

But then, the urge to return overwhelmed him. Barely able to breathe, he stepped inside again, ready to offer whatever solace, however small, for the devastation he had wrought. The sight of Meerab’s condition lay heavily over him; she recoiled as he entered.

Yet, when Waqas and Anwar stepped toward her, their protective instincts flared brightly, their fury evident.

“Get out, Murtasim!” Waqas thundered, his voice exploding in the quiet, a roaring storm of fatherly wrath.

“Leave her alone! You’ve done enough damage!” Anwar chimed in, his voice filled with both rage and sorrow.

Murtasim’s gaze soared to Meerab again, struck by the haunting images of that night replaying relentlessly in his mind. He felt utterly paralyzed, wanting to move, to speak, but unable to find the words. His heart cracked at the sight of her distress; he remembered how she had begged him to stop, her pleas echoing in his skull like a haunting refrain.

“Please, Murtasim, stop...you’re hurting me...I can’t take it anymore...” Her words became a scar across his consciousness, marring every thought he tried to gather.

He felt himself wilting under the weight of their accusations and Meerab’s despair. As her gaze fell away from him, fluttering in and out of focus, the gravity of her pain washed over him once more. The anguished silence enveloped them, and he could see that he had taken everything from her: her voice, her joy, her dreams.

With tears streaming down his face, Murtasim finally understood. He had lost everything that mattered, including his own humanity. Lowering his head, broken and defeated, he stepped back, disappearing into the corridor once more, leaving behind the wreckage of a love he had ravaged beyond repair.

He would never forgive himself.