Paasban

Chapter 28

Obsessed 🤧

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I finished my coffee, feeling the heaviness in my chest linger despite the brief comfort the café had offered. Pushing back my chair, I stood up, sliding my purse over my shoulder, and made my way outside. The rain had softened to a light drizzle, misting the streets and giving everything a soft, muted glow.

I needed air—space to think. Without much direction, I headed towards a nearby park, the familiar sight of greenery beckoning me. The path was quiet, the occasional passerby hurrying past with umbrellas, but I didn’t mind the dampness on my skin. It felt refreshing, almost like it was washing away the frustration I’d been holding onto.

As I walked deeper into the park, I found a bench near a small pond. The water rippled slightly with the rain, the soft sound of droplets soothing. I sat down, pulling my scarf tighter around me, and stared at the reflection in the pond, trying to clear my mind.

I replayed the argument with Musa in my head, over and over. His cold expression, his angry words—they stung, and even though I understood his frustration, it didn’t change the hurt I felt.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the turmoil inside me. Maybe some space would help, but I wasn’t sure how long I could handle this distance between us before something broke.

I opened my eyes and watched the ducks gliding across the pond, their little ducklings trailing behind in perfect formation. A small smile crept onto my lips, the scene pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. It was peaceful—the way the mother duck guided her ducklings, protecting them, keeping them close.

I hugged my arms around myself, letting the quiet moment wash over me. For a second, I imagined life being as simple as theirs—moving forward, protecting what matters, without all the complications of misunderstandings, words left unsaid, and the pressure of expectations.

The wind picked up slightly, brushing the loose strands of my hair against my face. I tucked them behind my ear, feeling the weight in my chest ease just a little. Maybe I needed this—this moment to be alone, away from the intensity of everything with Musa. Maybe we were too caught up in the whirlwind of our new life together, trying to balance everything, that we forgot the simple things that brought us close in the first place.

A soft vibration from my phone snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at the screen, hoping it was Musa. But it wasn’t. It was Maria, my cousin, asking how things were going.

I hesitated for a moment, then typed back, I’m okay. Good place. Nice people. Good company. Enjoying.

As I pressed send, I wondered if that was true.

I got up from the bench, feeling a little steadier, and decided to head to a nearby café. Maybe getting Musa a coffee would be a small peace offering, something to show that I wasn’t holding on to our argument. The sky was streaked with shades of orange and pink, the sun slowly dipping behind the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city.

As I entered the café, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. I ordered a black coffee for him and grabbed a pastry for myself, though I wasn't sure if I'd have the appetite to eat it. The barista handed me the cup, and I carefully balanced everything as I walked back towards the hotel.

The streets of Paris were calming in the evening, the soft buzz of people heading home or out for dinner. I took a deep breath before entering the hotel, trying to push aside the tension that had clouded our morning. Maybe this small gesture would be a start, a way to open the door for conversation again.

I reached the room, my heart racing a little as I stood outside the door. I paused for a moment, steadying myself. Then, I turned the key and stepped inside.

The room was quiet, dimly lit by the fading sunlight filtering through the curtains. Musa was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t look up as I entered.

“I brought you coffee,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

No response.

I set the coffee on the table next to him and sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting, hoping he’d say something. The silence between us felt heavy, almost suffocating.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the silence behind me, and decided to grab my clothes and change. Maybe some fresh air would help clear my mind. I pulled on a sweater and slipped out to the balcony, gently closing the door behind me. The soft hum of Paris at night filled the air, and in the distance, the Eiffel Tower shimmered against the dark sky.

I settled into a comfy chair, wrapping my arms around myself as I stared up at the stars, my mind wandering. What else could I have done? I had tried to make things better, to ease the tension between us. But no matter what I did, it didn’t seem to reach him.

The cool night breeze brushed against my skin, but the unease inside me stayed. I replayed the argument in my head, over and over. Maybe I should have given him more space, not called so much. But it wasn’t just about the calls; there was something deeper, something neither of us had said yet. I sighed again, feeling the heaviness settle back into my chest.

The Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance, a reminder of the beauty around me, but I couldn’t fully enjoy it. I had imagined this trip to be so different. It was supposed to be filled with laughter, late-night talks, and exploring this beautiful city together. Instead, I sat alone, feeling the gap between us grow wider.

I glanced back at the door to our room, wondering if Musa was still lying there in the same position. I wondered if he was thinking about us, about what we could do to fix this. Or if he was still just angry.

With a deep breath, I leaned back into the chair, my eyes drifting back to the night sky. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe we just needed time.

After sitting there for two hours I got up and headed inside. The moon fully out on the sky. I closed the door gently behind me and saw Musa laying there, his eyes closed.

I stood by the bed for a moment, watching him. His chest rose and fell steadily, and though his eyes were closed, I couldn't tell if he was really asleep. The empty coffee cup beside him was the only sign that maybe, just maybe, he’d calmed down a little.

At least he took the coffee…

With a soft sigh, I carefully climbed onto the bed, making sure to keep a good distance between us. My heart ached as I stared at the space between us. It felt like more than just inches; it felt like a chasm I wasn’t sure how to cross. I pulled the blanket over me and stared up at the ceiling, trying to will my body to relax.

But how could I sleep? My husband—my Musa—was giving me the cold shoulder for something I didn’t even do. I was just worried. I was trying to help, but now, lying here in the dark, it felt like I had done everything wrong.

I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat. The silence was suffocating. I had never felt this distance between us before, and it terrified me. I had always thought that we could talk through anything, but now, I didn’t know what to say or how to fix this.

I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would come, but my mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Was he still angry? Would things be better in the morning? Or was this the start of something bigger, something worse?

The minutes stretched on, and I felt myself slowly drifting, my body too tired to fight the anxiety any longer.

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🤧👀👀👀👀... Any hints on what's coming up?