Forever His

Chapter 46: Only one bed

Mahnoor's POV:

As the villa's heavy door closes behind us, the warmth of the day still lingers, softened by the coolness of the night. It's quiet now, almost peaceful, and I can feel the echoes of the day's laughter and... moments with him still settling in my heart. I love him—every little thing about him, every moment he's held me close, every quiet word, every unspoken look. But he'll never feel the same. I know that. The walls he's built around himself, they're high and solid. It's a choice he's made, and I can't undo it.

As we step into the bedroom, I look around, pretending to be indifferent, but I can feel myself tensing up. Only one bed. I swallow, glancing at Shahmeer, who's unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt as if he's oblivious to the fact. Right. Just one bed. And it's so obvious that he has no intention of sharing it.

With a small nod, I force myself to relax and grab my pajamas from my suitcase. I can't even bring myself to look at him as I head to the door.

"Where are you going?" Shahmeer's voice cuts through the silence, low and calm.

"Oh, I thought I'd, um... just head to one of the other rooms," I say, waving toward the hallway. I tell myself it's the right thing to do. I'm in love with him, and it hurts too much to lie beside him, pretending my heart isn't pounding. I can't lie there wondering if he even notices or cares that I'm by his side.

For a moment, he almost says something—his lips part, a thought flickering behind his dark eyes. But he just gives a short nod, brushing a hand through his hair. "Okay," he says, voice unreadable, then turns his back to me.

I slip out of the room, heart racing, and shut the door softly behind me. Maybe it's better this way, I tell myself. I need the distance; I need to keep this wound from splitting open even more. Falling in love with someone who doesn't believe in love... it's a hopeless battle.

                                                                                   _____________

The night is quiet in the guest room, but my mind isn't. I'm awake, staring at the ceiling in the darkness, thinking about everything—the way he held me after the nightmare, the time he saved me from Rohail, even the way his brow furrowed with just the smallest hint of concern when I was petting those cats today. It's all starting to get to me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my hands fisted in the sheets. Loving Shahmeer is something I never planned, never even wanted. Yet, I don't have control over it anymore. I want him to care for me, not out of duty or appearance or for the staff, but for me—for Mahnoor, the person. But I know that's impossible. To him, love is some illusion, some weakness he'd never stoop to.

Eventually, though, sleep finds me.

                                                                                  ____________

The next morning, as a warm ray of sun filters in through the curtains, I stretch and turn, slowly blinking awake. And that's when I see him.

Shahmeer. Sitting in the armchair next to the bed, his head hung low, hair cascading down, his arms crossed. He's fast asleep, the soft morning light casting shadows across his face. My heart skips a beat, and I stare at him, blinking to be sure I'm not still dreaming. Why...? 

For a second, I think maybe it's just for appearances. Maybe he thinks the staff might see him. But this... this seems too much. Too careful. Too quiet.

"Shahmeer," I whisper, leaning over the bed toward him. "What are you doing?"

He stirs, his head lifting as his eyes open, and he blinks sleepily before his gaze focuses on me.