Eternity

Chapter 34

As-salamu alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuhu

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Ayzal sat on the edge of the bed in her room, her heart pounding in her chest. The room felt too small, too confining, and she could barely breathe through the suffocating mix of grief and anger swirling inside her. The letter in her hand was crumpled and worn from her tight grip, a physical manifestation of the turmoil raging within her. She had read it over and over, each time hoping that the words would change, that the truth it revealed would somehow be different. But the words remained the same, a bitter confirmation of the betrayal that had torn her world apart.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Zayan walked in, his presence immediately filling the space with a cold, tense energy. He paused as he took in the sight of Ayzal sitting there, her shoulders hunched, her face pale and tear-streaked. His expression was unreadable, a mask of indifference that he had perfected over the months they had been married. He had always kept his distance, never letting her in, never showing any signs of warmth or affection. She had grown used to it, and had come to expect nothing more from him. But today, something was different.

Zayan’s eyes flicked to the letter in her hand, and a flicker of recognition passed across his face. Ayzal saw it, and her heart clenched with a sudden surge of anger. Of course, he knew. He had always known. The coldness, the hatred that had colored every interaction between them since their wedding day—it all made sense now. She had wondered, had questioned why he had always seemed to despise her, why he had never given her a chance. And now she knew. It was because of this letter, because of the lies Murad had believed and passed on to his brother.

Zayan moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he were approaching a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. “Where did you find it?” he said, his voice low and controlled.

The question was almost laughable in its simplicity, in its pretense that he didn’t already know the answer. Ayzal’s fingers tightened around the letter, crumpling it further as a wave of bitterness rose in her throat. She had been holding in her pain, her grief, but now it all came rushing to the surface, too powerful to contain any longer.

“Is this why?” she demanded, her voice trembling with emotion as she thrust the letter towards him. “Is this why you have hated me from the moment we got married? Because of what Murad wrote in this letter?”

Zayan’s eyes darkened as they settled on the letter, and for a moment, a flicker of something vulnerable passed through his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same cold, impenetrable mask he always wore. He didn’t respond, didn’t try to deny it or offer any explanations. He just stood there, silent and unyielding, watching her with that same distant look that had become all too familiar.

Ayzal’s anger flared, fueled by his silence, by the way he seemed so unaffected by the pain she was clearly in. “Say something!” she cried, her voice cracking as she stared at him with pleading eyes. “Tell me why you have treated me like this! Tell me why you have hated me for something I didn’t do!”

But Zayan remained silent, his gaze locked on hers, hard and unfeeling. There was no warmth, no compassion in his eyes—only a cold detachment that made Ayzal’s heart ache with a fresh wave of despair. She had hoped, deep down, that there might be some explanation, some reason that would make sense of the way he had treated her. But the truth was stark and unforgiving. He had hated her because he believed she had betrayed his brother, and that hatred had consumed him, leaving no room for anything else.

Tears streamed down Ayzal’s face as she stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of regret but all she found was a wall of indifference, a barrier that she could never hope to breach. The pain of that realization was almost too much to bear, and she felt herself crumbling under the weight of it.

“You don’t even care, do you?” she whispered, her voice thick with tears. “You never cared. You have hated me from the beginning, and nothing I could ever do would change that.”

Zayan’s silence was answer enough, and it cut deeper than any words could have. He didn’t deny it because there was nothing to deny. He had made his decision long ago, and nothing she said or did would ever change his mind. The truth was plain, stark in its finality; Zayan would always see her as the woman who had betrayed his brother, the woman who had caused his family’s grief.

Ayzal’s body trembled as the reality of it all hit her like a tidal wave. The months of coldness, the endless nights of feeling alone and unwanted, all made sense now. She had been fighting a losing battle, trying to reach a man who had already condemned her in his heart. And now, standing here with the evidence of his disdain clutched in her hand, she realized just how futile her efforts had been.

Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, the pain and exhaustion finally catching up to her. She felt lightheaded, her strength draining away as if the very life was being sucked out of her. The room seemed to tilt, the walls closing in as her legs gave way beneath her. She barely registered Zayan’s sharp intake of breath, his sudden movement towards her, before darkness enveloped her, and she collapsed into his arms.

Zayan caught her just before she hit the floor, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized how pale and fragile she had become. Her body was limp, unresponsive, and for the first time in months, a flicker of genuine concern pierced through his cold exterior. He didn’t understand why, didn’t want to examine the uncomfortable twinge of guilt that surfaced as he held her, but he couldn’t ignore it. She was unconscious, her breathing shallow and uneven, and he knew he had to get her help.

Without a word, Zayan scooped her up in his arms, his movements swift and efficient. He carried her out of the bedroom, his mind focused solely on getting her to the hospital.