In the Heart of Darkness

Chapter 22: The Walls Between Us

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the bed. Zara lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her heart heavy with sorrow. The past few days had been suffocating, each one blending into the next, as Ibrahim's distance grew like an unscalable wall between them.

His once fleeting warmth had been replaced by an icy indifference that pierced her heart. She had tried, so hard, to break through, but it seemed the more she reached out, the further he retreated.

Zara sat up slowly, wrapping her arms around her knees. The coldness in his eyes the night before still haunted her. His words, spoken with such finality, replayed in her mind, cutting deeper each time she thought about them.

"We're not real, Zara."

It wasn't just his words-it was his tone, so distant, so dismissive, as if she meant nothing to him. She had stood in the middle of the empty hallway, heartbroken, while he walked away as if she didn't exist. Now, every morning felt the same-filled with longing, frustration, and a growing sense of helplessness.

Zara wiped away a tear, frustrated with herself for caring so much.

She had never asked to fall in love with Ibrahim. It had happened without her consent, her heart betraying her rational mind. The way he had saved from her own parents, fulfill her dream of education, held her when he was injured, the tenderness she saw in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking-those moments had given her hope. But now, that hope seemed to be crumbling before her, brick by brick.

His coldness was a suffocating presence in their home. Zara tried to tell herself that she could bear it, that she could handle his distance, but the truth was, it hurt more than she was willing to admit. She missed the fleeting moments when he had let his guard down, when he had shown vulnerability after his injury. Now, those moments seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by his icy indifference.

Still, every day, they trained. Ibrahim had taken her self-defense training seriously, though he kept an emotional and physical distance. Each session was efficient, calculated, and silent. He only spoke when absolutely necessary, his instructions short and clipped. It was as if he was deliberately building a wall between them, brick by brick, and Zara had no way to break it down.

Zara sighed as she got out of bed, her heart heavy with sorrow. She had hoped that their training sessions would bring them closer, but instead, it felt like they were drifting further apart. Every day, they trained together, but it was as if he wasn't really there. His focus was entirely on the task at hand, not on her. He treated her like a soldier, not a wife.

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Zara stood in the center of the training room, her hands wrapped tightly in boxing gloves as she faced a punching bag. Ibrahim was beside her, watching with an intensity that unnerved her. He had always been composed, controlled, but lately, there was an edge to him that she couldn't decipher.

"Punch," Ibrahim instructed, his voice firm but distant.

Zara exhaled sharply, throwing a series of quick punches at the bag. The muscles in her arms burned, but she pushed through the pain, determined to prove herself. She could feel his eyes on her, assessing every movement.


"Good. Faster now. Don't think-just react," Ibrahim said, stepping back slightly to give her more space.