Forever His

Chapter 57: Regret

Mahnoor's POV:

The room feels suffocating, as if the air itself is mocking me for my own foolishness. My hands clench into fists, my nails biting into my palms as I replay the kiss in my mind—the heat of it, the intensity, the way I'd lost myself in him. What is wrong with me? He's my enemy. The man who ruined my life. The one responsible for tearing Rohail and me apart.

I stand abruptly, shaking off the emotions that threaten to drown me. I can't sit here wallowing in regret. I refuse to let this moment define me—or worse, give Shahmeer any satisfaction. I straighten my blouse, smooth out my hair one last time, and leave the room with brisk, determined steps.

As I walk down the hallway, I feel eyes on me. The staff are whispering, their voices hushed but sharp enough to sting. What do they know? Their looks only fuel the anger bubbling inside me. I don't need their judgment right now.

Just as I turn a corner, the door to the staff room bursts open, and Farjaad emerges, his face flushed and out of breath. He spots me immediately and strides toward me, his expression a mix of urgency and disbelief.

"Farjaad?" I ask, stopping in my tracks. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He doesn't answer right away, instead glancing over his shoulder as if to make sure no one else is listening. Then he takes a deep breath and looks me straight in the eye. "Did you... did you kiss Shahmeer?"

My stomach lurches, and for a moment, I'm too stunned to respond. "Why are you asking me that?" I manage to say, trying to sound indifferent, but my voice betrays me with a slight tremble.

Farjaad's brows knit together, and he gestures animatedly. "Because it's obvious! His lips are smudged with lipstick, and his jawline..." He pauses, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "...It's covered in kiss marks."

My cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger. How could Shahmeer have been so careless? "What does it matter to you?" I snap, crossing my arms over my chest.

"It matters because he stormed out of here like a man possessed!" Farjaad's tone is sharp, his concern palpable. "He's angry, Mahnoor. Really angry. And when Shahmeer's angry, things tend to... spiral."

I blink, his words sinking in. Shahmeer's anger isn't something I've witnessed firsthand—not like this—but I've heard enough stories to know it's not something to be taken lightly. "Where did he go?" I ask, trying to mask the sudden worry creeping into my voice.

Farjaad throws his hands up in exasperation. "How should I know? You're his wife. It's your job to figure out what's going on in his head, because no one else ever has."

The weight of his words hits me like a punch to the gut. His wife. The term feels like a cruel joke in moments like these. How am I supposed to figure him out when I barely understand him myself?

I glance around the hallway, as if expecting Shahmeer to appear out of nowhere, but the space feels emptier than ever. "Did he say anything before he left?" I ask, desperation creeping into my tone.

Farjaad shakes his head. "No. He just stormed out. But he's not answering his phone, and that's... not like him."

I swallow hard, my mind racing. Shahmeer isn't the type to lose control—not in front of others, at least. The fact that he's gone radio silent only makes me more anxious. "I'll... I'll try figure it out," I say finally, though I have no idea where to even begin.

I leave the office building, my heels clicking against the pavement as I hail a taxi. The ride home is a blur, my thoughts tangled in a mess of guilt, anger, and worry.