The air in Khan Haveli was thick with tension as night fell, the once-lively corridors now cloaked in an uneasy stillness. Outside, the garden's flowers swayed in the breeze, but the heart of the house seemed to tremble with the unspoken words and unresolved emotions between its inhabitants.
In the privacy of their bedroom-though the term "theirs" felt like a distant memory-Murtasim paced back and forth, his mind swirling with everything that had happened. The confrontation with Haya, the revelation of his own blindness to her treachery, and the monumental task of repairing the wreckage that his life had become. And above all, there was Meerab-the woman who haunted his every thought, the woman who was the mother of his child, yet remained a stranger to him now.
Meerab had returned, but she wasn't the same. The spark that once defined her was now a blazing fire-one of anger, betrayal, and righteous fury. She had every right to feel this way. Murtasim knew that. But the depth of her pain was still unknown to him, and tonight, it was about to come crashing down.
The door creaked open, and there she was-Meerab, standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her face a storm of emotions. Her gaze was sharp, piercing through the darkness of the room, locking onto him with an intensity that made Murtasim's heart skip a beat.
"Murtasim," she said, her voice cold as ice. "We need to talk."
He stopped pacing, swallowing the lump in his throat. He had been dreading this conversation, knowing it would break open wounds that hadn't yet begun to heal. But there was no avoiding it.
"Meerab," he started, his tone soft, almost pleading, "I-"
"Don't." She cut him off sharply, taking a step closer. Her voice was steady, but beneath it lay a tremor of restrained rage. "Don't you dare. This isn't about apologies, Murtasim. This is about the truth-about what you did."
He flinched at her words, but she pressed on, her anger building like a tidal wave.
"You raped me." The accusation fell from her lips like a curse, the rawness of it echoing in the room. Murtasim's face paled, his hands curling into fists at his sides as the truth of her words sliced through him.
"Meerab, I-"
"Do you even understand what that night did to me?" she interrupted, her voice rising in fury. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be violated by the person you thought you could trust? The person you once loved?"
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. This wasn't the time for weakness. This was the time for confrontation.
"That night, after Mariyam's rukhsati," she continued, her voice quivering with the weight of her memories, "I came looking for you, only to find you in Haya's arms. I thought you had chosen her, Murtasim. I thought I meant nothing to you. And when I tried to leave, you-" Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to keep going. "You forced yourself on me."
Murtasim's heart shattered at her words. The guilt he had carried since that night now crushed him under its weight. He had always known that his actions had crossed a line, but hearing it from her, hearing the word *rape*-it made him feel like a monster.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I- I wasn't in my right mind, Meerab. I was angry, I was confused-"
"Angry? Confused?" she spat, her eyes flashing with contempt. "You think that justifies what you did to me? You think your feelings somehow made it okay?"
"No, it wasn't okay," he admitted, his voice breaking. "Nothing about that night was okay. I made a terrible mistake, Meerab, and I've regretted it every single day since you left."
