Later that night, the tension in the air was palpable as Murtasim stood outside the bedroom door, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He had spent the entire day replaying their earlier conversation over and over again in his mind, trying to figure out how he could possibly fix the mess he had made. Every time he thought he was making progress, Meerab’s anger only seemed to escalate.
But he couldn’t let it end like this. He had to talk to her again, no matter how much she wanted to avoid him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room.
Meerab was lying on the bed, her back turned toward him, her body stiff and unyielding. She hadn’t said a word to him since the morning incident, and the cold shoulder was starting to gnaw at his patience. He couldn’t stand being ignored by her, especially when things were this bad.
“Meerab,” he said softly, stepping closer to the bed, his voice laced with caution.
She didn’t respond. Her entire body remained tense, a clear sign she had no intention of engaging with him.
“Meerab, we need to talk,” he tried again, his voice a little more urgent this time.
Still no response. Her silence was killing him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I know you’re mad at me. I understand that. But I just... I want to explain. Please.”
Meerab shifted slightly on the bed but didn’t turn around, still determined to freeze him out. Murtasim swallowed hard, his frustration mounting. This was impossible. How was he supposed to explain himself when she wouldn’t even look at him?
He decided to take a more direct approach. He walked around the bed, his eyes locked on her rigid form as he tried to figure out how to get through to her. Maybe if he sat beside her, she would have no choice but to hear him out.
But as he took another step forward, his foot caught on the corner of the carpet. Before he could even register what was happening, he felt himself lurch forward, completely off balance.
Time seemed to slow down in the most mortifying way. Murtasim’s arms flailed out, trying to catch something—anything—to stop his fall, but the next thing he knew, he was crashing directly onto the bed. More specifically, onto Meerab.
“Ahhh!” Meerab let out a startled yelp, her eyes flying open just as Murtasim’s full weight collapsed onto her, knocking the air out of both of them.
It was a chaotic tangle of limbs, but that wasn’t the worst part. As Murtasim tried to steady himself, his hands landed on something soft—too soft. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks as he felt the unmistakable fullness beneath his palms.
His hands were on her breasts.
For a moment, there was complete silence as both of them registered what had just happened. Murtasim’s eyes widened in horror, and he quickly jerked his hands away as if they had been burned, scrambling to push himself up off of her.
“Oh my God,” Meerab gasped, her face turning an impossibly deep shade of red. She stared at him with a mixture of shock, mortification, and rage.
“I—I didn’t mean to—!” Murtasim stammered, his heart pounding in his chest as he backed away, his hands raised in surrender. “It was an accident, I swear!”
“An accident?” Meerab repeated, her voice trembling with fury as she pushed herself up to sit. “You fell on me, and your hands just happened to land on my—” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, too outraged to find the words.
“Yes! Exactly!” Murtasim practically pleaded, trying to explain. “The carpet—my foot got caught—and I tripped!”
Meerab’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Do you ever stop being a pervert?!” she seethed, her hands fisting the sheets as if she was moments away from strangling him. “First, I catch you... doing that last night, and now this?!”
