As Long As I Live

Shocked Into Silence

To all those who have had enough of me keeping up the suspense!!

Enjoy!!

*****

The sun made a hasty retreat and the night eagerly took over, painting the canvas of the sky with dark colours. The lazy light of the moon and the silent twinkling of the stars, although painting a beautiful picture, weren't enough to banish the dread from Aamir's chest.

Dread caused by a single phone call.

He knew he was all alone at the office. His secretary had reminded him an hour ago before leaving herself that he could go home and that everyone else had already left. Yet he remained. He'd much rather do this here, in his office, than at home where thanks to Fariha's arrogant supremacist behavior, Mayra had received yet another setback.

Khalid had called him in immediately after, told him of everything that had transpired especially Faiza's comment. That made him even more determined to stick around here. There was no place else he'd rather be in this moment, for he was merely minutes away from finding out the truth.

Truth that would clear everything up, help Mayra and him heal and finally start afresh. Truth that was being brought by Zaheer, as he called him up and informed himme that he was coming. That was the dreadful phone call.

It was necessary to uncover the truth, he knew it. For unless the whole of the murky past was cleared it was forever going to remain as a wedge between them.

He leaned back in his chair as shut his eyes. It was so unfair. So unfair that everyone around the world had normal weddings, had normal married lives filled with love and passion, care and understanding, occasional bickering and fighting, and then making up with love. It was so unfair that Aamir had been cheated of it all, that Mayra had been denied all that she had every right to expect.

He was tired of living in the past and feeling guilty all the time. He knew it was quite selfish of him and that he should continue to feel guilty for Mayra's suffering but he just wanted the sadness to be over.

He had gotten through paralysis and survived, Mayra had gotten through a near-death experience and survived, surely there was a sign in the sequence of those occurrences that showed that they were meant to be together. That they were meant to find their "happily ever after".

He hated feeling so out of control. He was a CEO, he was the man in-charge, he was the one who held all the strings and had complete control of his life. His professional life, he amended in his head, because his personal life had never been under his control. He had been manipulated and cheated into believing the false charges levelled against Mayra and into hating her.

But he had control over one thing for which there was no excuse - his behavior towards her. He should've known better, he should've been more open to the possibilities. More importantly, he shouldn't have been so quick to judge, he shouldn't have been so determined to view her in the light he did.

What did that leave her with? What could such horrible accusations and daily routines of insult and humiliation leave her with?

Considering from Mayra's perspective, through the eyes of a sheltered and extremely modest young girl who didn't have any friends except the one friend who she considered her sister, and who went on to deceive her, a girl who was so shy and was such an introvert, a girl who could do all the work and claim no credit, who was so nice that it more often than not worked to her own disadvantage, what did the two years leave her with?

He slammed his fist on the table and rose, walked over to glass wall that provided a magnificent view of the beautiful sunset.

It left her with him, Aamir the Monster, Aamir the Abuser, Aamir the Beast. It left her with no confidence and no sense of self-belief. She dressed up everyday and made sure she looked clean and presentable, not nice or beautiful, because she had accepted that the one man she would dress up for would never find her beautiful. She looked at herself in the mirror but like normal women she didn't care if she looked pretty, all she cared for was if her hair was completely tucked away lest her husband scream at her. She kept his room near and clean, his things in order, his files in place, because it was his room, and she never tried to add her own little feminine touches to it because she knew what the outcome would be if Aamir walked in from work and found a pink comforter on the bed, or frilly cushion covers or flowery curtains.