Tangled threads pt3

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Meerab found herself paralyzed by a gnawing mix of embarrassment and guilt, making it hard for her to summon the courage to approach Murtasim. With Mariam's departure, the haveli felt devoid of anyone she could turn to for solace. As Maa Begum continued to give her the usual cold shoulder, reserving conversation solely for the obligatory panchayat discussions and expecting anything from the person who abandoned her at birth seemed pointless as well.

Days stretched into a monotonous cycle of introspection where her mind dwelled on the outcome of her impulsive decisions. Surely she had been reckless and impulsive, maybe she selfish as well, but did she truly deserved this all of this? Murtasim had accused her of trying to seek revenge but was she even in a state to do that, after everything that she went through? She though. Anger bubbled within her, directed at her biological father for abandoning her without a reason, at her foster parents for severing ties as if no bond had ever existed, and even at Maa Begum for confining her within a suffocating box, but despite everything, she was too weak to plan revenge.

The utter vulnerability and distraught she felt at her loss of identity and shattering of her dreams and ambitions, made her a very weak woman but she knew she had no one there for her. She wasn't even allowed to grief at any of this, everyone expected her to accept whatever was thrown in her way. The suppression and lack of concern from her elders is what pushed her to become stoic. She didn't wanted to expose her weakness to everyone because all of this, and the new life she was thrusted into, was nothing less than a battlefield, where she struggled to survived.

Meerab craved time and understanding, and the one person who had once offered solace was now distant himself as well. She had taken his presence for granted until now, his empathic nature as a source of his weakness, making him the target of projecting all her defeats and troubles over him. Meerab realized she had leaned on him too heavily, making him bear the weight of her troubles, confident he would shoulder the blame and strive to make amends. Pushing him to his limits, she now confronted the oppressive emptiness left in his absence. Yet amidst it all, she steeled herself to untangle the mess of her life. Especially, after last night.

She had woken up expecting a major ache in her feet but surprising she felt well. As her eyes scanned around the room, her eyes caught the sight of the ointment on the side table. Maybe Murtasim had applied it? That meant that he still cared for her. This small beacon of hope had motivated her to strive harder to gain his love back.

Meerab wrestled with ways to mend the breach, but her mind remained an echo chamber of ideas. Murtasim's presence had now seemed like a lingering shadow—barely engaging in conversation, responding with mere nods and hmms. The absence of his usual teasing and banter tore at her heart. His disregard, manifested in the absence of even a passing glance, left her yearning for the old Murtasim who she would catch staring at her countless times.

She longed for any form of communication, be it his signature cheesy remarks or exasperating cockiness—anything to break the suffocating silence that enveloped him. Each day, he departed before her awakening, returning home long after she had succumbed to sleep. The void in her heart grew deeper, and though she fought against tears, but the silence between them became a palpable entity, threatening to drown any hope of reconciliation. Yet, Meerab remained resolute, determined to weave together the unraveling threads of her life, starting with the intricate tapestry of her relationship with Murtasim.

Determined to bridge the widening gap, Meerab threw herself into remedial actions. She woke up early to prepare his breakfast, despite him rarely eating it. She laid out his clothes, anticipating his preferences, even though he rarely chose the outfits she selected. Greetings, accompanied by a hopeful smile, were met with only whispers or a quick nod when he returned home late.

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