𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞

4. Remorse

A Morning of Questions and Regrets

The morning air in Mariah's home was thick with a sense of routine-clattering dishes, muffled conversations, and the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea. Everyone was gathered at the breakfast table, save for Arin, who was still upstairs, lost in her whirlwind of thoughts.

Her mind raced, replaying the moment she first saw Arzen at Mariah's house. Why is he here? Could he be Mariah's fiancé? The questions felt like an endless spiral, each more confusing than the last. Arin struggled to connect the dots, her heart heavy with doubt. She sat at the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the sunlit window, unsure if she was overthinking or uncovering a truth she wasn't prepared for.

A knock at the door jolted her out of her thoughts. She hurriedly got up, almost tripping over her shoes in the process.

When she opened the door, an older woman, probably in her forties, stood there. The woman's face was kind but curt. "Everyone is waiting for you at the breakfast table," she said simply before turning and walking away.

Arin sighed and quickly ran a hand through her slightly disheveled hair. No point in delaying this any further, she thought.

The dining room was lively, as expected. Mariah was seated at the head of the table, chatting animatedly with her father. Her mother poured tea for everyone, while the rest of the household busied themselves with breakfast. The table was vibrant, adorned with plates of steaming pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruits.

Arin stepped in hesitantly. Her eyes scanned the room, and there he was-Arzen. He sat near Mariah's father, engaged in what appeared to be a lighthearted conversation. His deep voice carried a tone of ease, but Arin felt the weight of her unspoken questions grow heavier.

Swallowing her nerves, she made her way to the table and sat beside Mariah, who greeted her with a bright smile.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Mariah teased.

Arin managed a weak smile in return, her gaze flickering to Arzen. He didn't look at her, his focus entirely on Mariah's father. She couldn't decide if she was relieved or frustrated by his lack of acknowledgment.

Breakfast passed uneventfully, at least on the surface. Conversations floated around her, but Arin barely heard them. She kept her head down, picking at her food, her mind still consumed by the enigma of Arzen's presence.

After breakfast, the air outside the house felt lighter. Arin wandered toward the gazebo at the edge of Mariah's sprawling garden. The wooden structure stood amidst a cluster of blooming flowers, offering a quiet retreat from the house's bustle. She sank onto the bench, the cool wood grounding her spinning thoughts.

The questions resurfaced, louder this time. Why didn't he tell me anything? Why did he come here? Each one tugged at her, an ache she couldn't ignore.

She didn't know how long she sat there before she felt it-a presence behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The air seemed to shift, and her heart clenched.

Arzen.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them like an invisible barrier. Arin clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she wrestled with the emotions threatening to surface.

Without a word, she stood up and walked away, her back to him. She didn't look at him, didn't say anything. She couldn't. The pain of his betrayal, the broken trust-it was too much to confront now.

Arzen remained rooted to the spot, his hands clenching into fists as he watched her retreating figure. The regret on his face was unmistakable.

"I shouldn't have done that," he murmured to himself, his voice laced with anguish. "I broke her trust. I played with her feelings."

He had thought he could justify his actions, but now, standing alone in the gazebo, he realized the depth of his mistake. He had hurt her in ways he hadn't fully understood before. Now, he wanted to fix it. But how?

----

By the time Arzen left Mariah's house, Arin was nowhere to be seen. He didn't try to look for her, knowing she needed space. But as he walked away, his determination solidified. He would make things right, no matter how long it took.
---

Later that afternoon, Mariah dragged Arin out of her room for some fun. The two of them spent hours exploring the town, laughing over childhood stories and indulging in ice cream from a local vendor. For a while, Arin let herself forget her worries, allowing Mariah's infectious energy to lift her spirits.

But as the sun began to set, Arin felt the weight of reality creeping back. She knew she couldn't escape her feelings forever.

"I should get going," she said finally, as they returned to Mariah's house.

Mariah pouted. "Already? Stay for dinner!"

"I can't," Arin replied with a small smile. "I have to get back to my apartment. Work tomorrow."

Mariah sighed but didn't push further. "Fine. But next time, you're staying longer!"

Arin laughed softly, hugging her friend before heading to her car. As she drove back to her apartment, the familiar streets passing by, she couldn't help but think about Arzen again.

What was he thinking? Why did he come here?

Her chest tightened at the memory of him standing silently in the gazebo, his regret almost palpable. She didn't know if she was ready to face him yet, but she knew one thing for certain-her feelings for him weren't something she could ignore forever.

As her apartment came into view, Arin took a deep breath. She parked the car, stepped out, and looked up at the evening sky. The stars were just beginning to appear, their light faint but unwavering.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

"He was the one she trusted never to break her, the one she believed would guard her heart with his own. But he shattered it instead, leaving her in pieces while he now drowns in the weight of his regret, wishing he had cherished what he destroyed."

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