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❝Once upon a time, a girl fell in love with her husband and made the stars realise that they'd gotten her soulmate wrong.❞
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It's a daunting thing, your first love. It's new, making you unsure and doubt whether it's love or just a mere...
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I WONDERED HOW IT must have felt for women to send their husbands off to war back in the day. Would they have felt panic — a sort of desperation that never eased? Or would they have felt relief that the country was finally seeing how women were just as capable as men after they took mens' jobs? Would they have carried fire in their hearts from dejection, or would said hearts have turned ice cold from the lonely winters? Most of my questions were answered as I sat there in the tense, deafeningly silent waiting room outside the emergency room they'd taken Zayaan into. The answer was simple; there wasn't a name for what they would have felt while they were without their husbands. I didn't even love Zayaan and I was this close to being on the edge of succumbing to all my tears and screaming at the doctors to tell us something, so what would have women who genuinely loved their husbands have felt? Agony, loneliness, panic, yearning, and every other feeling that robbed you of your breath.
My hands felt heavy as they sat limply at my side since I didn't even have the energy to fidget. They felt heavy enough to drown my entire body in the ocean just from their weight alone. But at that moment, I would have rejoiced drowning. At least I'd have had something else to focus on, as dire as the scenario was.
My mind was bordering on travelling into dangerous territory, subtly talking about drowning and death, and I forced it to retreat. There weren't enough distractions to side-track you while your husband was inside a room, fighting for his life after three damn bullets had heartlessly pierced through his chest. There had been so much blood. Too much blood. There was so much near his heart, and that itself left for a terrifying outcome. If any of the metal had slightly even grazed the organ, it would send the poison all around his bloodstream and the consequence was horrifying to even think about. All I could do was pray and hope that nothing like that happened. It couldn't. Zayaan had one of the purest hearts, and if anything ever happened to him, I'd lose all hope.
You better open those golden eyes of yours again, Haidar.
I'd known my husband for just over seven months, and I'd been married to him for a month of that time; if I was feeling this way, I couldn't even imagine what his mother was going through. She was sitting opposite me, fiddling with her fingers as she had her head bowed down, the rest of her body taut with tension. Reza was standing near her, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor with a deep frown. Zak and Nezrin were sitting beside me, in the same state. It was only Ehan who'd gone after the person who'd shot Zayaan. He was the only one who had thought past getting Zayaan inside, running after the sound of the gunshot to find out who had dared to harm one of his family.
Nafasat sniffled opposite me and Reza immediately put a comforting hand down on her shoulder, silently telling her what she needed to hear. She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, shaking her head.
There was a slight commotion near the end of the corridor and we all looked up, only to see a boy with hazel eyes running towards us in worry.
"Faithe!" Riyad came running towards me, the corridor squeaking under the soles of his shoes.
