His silence his pride ( continuation)

Possessive

The visit to Mahra's mother's house began peacefully enough. Zaid kept close to her side, feeling a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. It was their first visit together since he'd started trying to rebuild their relationship, and he hoped her family would see that he was serious about treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

But then, her cousin Sameer arrived.

Zaid watched with growing tension as Sameer greeted Mahra with a big grin, laughing at her jokes and leaning a little too close. When Mahra returned his energy with a casual high-five, Zaid felt a surge of possessiveness he hadn't anticipated.

His chest tightened, and a flare of jealousy rose within him, unfamiliar and consuming. Before he even realized it, he'd reached for her hand, gripping it firmly. Startled, Mahra glanced at him, but he didn't give her time to react. He led her upstairs, his hold unyielding, and once they were alone in her old bedroom, he shut the door behind them with a soft but unmistakable slam.

"What the hell, Zaid?" Mahra exclaimed, yanking her hand back. But before she could finish, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a forceful kiss. She stiffened, resisting, but he held her close, unable to stop himself. His heart pounded, demanding that he convey his feelings, his desperation.

But as he tried to deepen the kiss, seeking more, she pushed against his chest, breaking the contact. "What are you doing?" Her voice was a mixture of shock and anger.

Zaid backed away, breathing heavily, guilt already beginning to replace the possessiveness he'd felt moments before. "I— I couldn't stand watching you with him. You're my wife, Mahra."

She glared at him, her eyes flashing with fury. "Your wife? You think dragging me up here and kissing me without my permission proves that?" She crossed her arms, her tone hard. "Weren't you the one who said you'd never force yourself on me? You promised you'd respect my space!"Zaid looked down, his heart sinking. "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted that way. It's just—seeing you with him, I felt... possessive."

"Possessive?" She laughed bitterly. "You've ignored me for two years, Zaid. And now that you suddenly feel possessive, you think that gives you the right to act like this?" Her voice softened, but her disappointment was unmistakable. "You don't get to claim me just because you're finally seeing what you have."

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. "You're right. I know I have no right to act this way. I just... I'm scared, Mahra. Scared of losing you, scared that you'll never be able to forgive me."

She sighed, turning away from him, her voice strained. "I'm not a prize, Zaid. I'm not here for you to decide when you care or when you don't. I needed you before, when I felt invisible and alone. You're only showing this side of yourself now because you feel threatened."

He reached out, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I know I've hurt you, Mahra, and I'm sorry for breaking my promise. I won't let my jealousy get the better of me again. I just want a chance to show you that I'm willing to change. To be the husband you needed all along."

She didn't turn to face him, but her shoulders relaxed slightly. "Change takes time, Zaid. And it won't happen with forced gestures. If you want me to trust you, then show me that you respect me—my choices, my boundaries."

Zaid nodded, stepping back and giving her the space she needed. "I understand, Mahra. I'll work on myself and give you the time you need. I'll never make you feel like this again."

There was silence between them, but it wasn't as tense as before. He'd crossed a line, and he knew that it would take time and patience to rebuild the trust he'd damaged. But in her steady breathing, he felt a small hint of hope—a reminder that even if he had to start from the very beginning, he would, if that meant he could earn a place in her heart.