Meerab lounged on the settee, her lips pursed in annoyance as she watched Murtasim pace the room, a file in his hands. **He hadn’t even looked at her** since he returned from work. She had planned for hours how to get his attention without outright asking for it. Because, after all, she wasn't *desperate*. She just *needed* her husband to notice her, to pay attention like he used to before this whirlwind of responsibility consumed him.
But, of course, he was oblivious.
Meerab sighed loudly, draping her arm over her eyes dramatically.
Murtasim, however, merely looked up briefly, muttered something about an upcoming meeting, and returned to his file.
Meerab bit her lip in frustration. Fine, if being subtle didn’t work, maybe it was time to try a new tactic.
She cleared her throat, louder this time, throwing her hair back in what she thought was a seductive toss. “Murtasim…”
He finally looked up. Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe this would be easier than she thought.
“Yes?” he said, all seriousness in his tone.
Meerab gave him a soft smile, fluttering her eyelashes. “Don’t you think…something’s been missing?”
Murtasim’s brow furrowed. He glanced around the room. “Did you lose something? I can ask the servants to—”
*Oh for heaven’s sake*, Meerab thought.
“No, Murtasim. I mean, *between us*. Don’t you feel like we haven’t… spent much time together?” She trailed her fingers delicately over her arm, hoping he’d get the hint.
Murtasim’s face lit up in understanding. “Oh! You’re right, Meerab. You *are* right. We haven’t really talked much about the house renovation plans. I’ll call the contractor tomorrow.”
Meerab blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “Renovations? Seriously?”
“What? You said we need to spend time discussing things.”
Meerab groaned internally. This was going to be *harder* than she thought.
The next day, Meerab was determined. She had planned everything meticulously. If Murtasim didn’t get the hint today, she was going to scream. Not that she’d admit she craved his attention. No, that was beneath her.
She stood in front of the mirror, making sure her outfit was just right. A red dress that hugged her figure, leaving just enough to his imagination. She let her hair down in loose waves, applied a touch of kohl to her eyes. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She walked downstairs, her heels clicking softly against the marble, and found him sitting on the couch, reading a document. With a soft smile, she walked up behind him, her hand lightly brushing his shoulder as she leaned over him.
“Murtasim,” she murmured, her voice soft and sweet. “Do you like what I’m wearing?”
Murtasim didn’t look up from his document but patted her hand absently. “Of course, Meerab. You look good in anything.”
She wanted to scream. Instead, she leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing his ear. “I mean, really *look* at me, Murtasim.”
Murtasim turned to face her, finally giving her his full attention. Meerab’s heart raced. Was he finally getting it?
Murtasim smiled warmly and pulled her into a hug. “You’re right. I’ve been neglecting you.”
Meerab’s heart soared. **Finally**!
“Let’s sit together and talk,” Murtasim said, pulling her down beside him.
Meerab smiled. This was going in the right direction.
