41| I Love You

I L O V E Y O U

I am home alhamdulillah ♥️

W O R D  C O U N T: 6177

Anaabiya had been confined to her room for hours, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, her mind tangled in the chaos that was Humza. He pushed her away at every opportunity, throwing up walls of indifference and cruelty, yet his eyes—the way they lingered on her, dark with something unspoken—silently begged her to stay. It was maddening.

She knew he was hiding something, but if there was one truth she could hold on to, it was that he wasn't cheating on her. That alone was enough for her to believe that somewhere beneath his mask of apathy, he cared. Maybe even loved her.

That thought alone fueled her restless energy.

After performing her Isha prayer, she sat impatiently on the bed, waiting for Humza's return. Her heart was beating fast, not with fear but with determination. She was done playing his games, done being pushed and pulled at his whim. He could deny it all he wanted, but she knew what she had seen in his gaze. He wanted her. He was tempted by her. And if he wouldn't admit it, she would make him.

The idea formed slowly, hesitantly, until it settled into something solid.

She would seduce him.

The very thought made warmth rise to her cheeks, but she lifted her chin stubbornly. A wife has every right to seduce her husband, she told herself, her fingers tightening around the bedsheet. Even if she is a temporary one.

Her chest tightened as the reminder of the one-year contract crept into her thoughts, sinking its claws into her resolve. But she shoved it away before it could weaken her.

No. She wouldn't let it dictate her future. Contracts could be changed. Conditions could be rewritten.

And if she could make Humza break just once—if she could make him slip and show her the depth of what he felt—then maybe, just maybe, she could rewrite their story too.

Anaabiya inhaled deeply, her eyes fixed on her own reflection in the mirror. I can do this.

But doubt crept in almost immediately. Did she even know how to look sexy? Would Humza even find her attractive?

Her confidence wavered as she examined herself critically. She had absolutely no experience in this—none at all. And if she wanted to succeed, she needed guidance. That was why she had turned to Maliha, who, without hesitation, had provided her with a piece of nightwear so daring, so utterly scandalous, that Anaabiya had nearly thrown it back at her.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

The silky, sultry fabric clung to her curves in a way that felt almost sinful. It was the kind of thing women wore in movies—the kind that made men lose control. And if those men in the movies found it irresistible, then maybe, just maybe, her husband would too.

Anaabiya felt like an absolute wreck. Nerves twisted in her stomach, making her feel skittish, jumpy, and unbearably anxious all at once. What was she even thinking?

Her fingers trembled as she smoothed them over the silky fabric of her nightwear—a two-piece set that felt scandalous against her skin. The first piece was a backless, striped slip that barely grazed her knees, if even that. It clung to her figure in a way that made her feel far too exposed. The second piece, thankfully, was a robe—ankle-length and opaque, offering her at least some semblance of modesty. She clung to that small comfort, grateful that Maliha had at least given her something to cover herself with.

Maliha had assured her that the laced, silky fabric was seductive, that it would make her look effortlessly attractive, the kind of woman no man could resist. But Anaabiya didn't feel seductive. She didn't feel attractive.

She felt ridiculous.

Like a child playing dress-up. Like a foolish, desperate woman trying too hard to be something she wasn't.

Her reflection in the mirror only reinforced her insecurities. The nightwear wasn't indecent, but on her, it felt like a costume. She looked like a wannabe—someone attempting to be bold when she had never been that kind of person.

Will he even like it?

The thought made her stomach twist tighter. Would Humza see her and feel tempted? Or would he just laugh?

But everything is fair in love and war.

Anaabiya repeated the phrase like a mantra, willing herself to believe it. She wasn't doing anything wrong—she was doing this for her husband. For their marriage, even if it was temporary. If she had to push him, lure him, make him confront his own feelings, then so be it. She was willing to fight for what she wanted.

Time passed painfully slow, stretching like an eternity. Every time she heard footsteps outside her door, she rushed to peek, her heart leaping in anticipation, only to be met with disappointment when it wasn't him. The house was quiet, the night deepening, yet Humza was nowhere to be seen.

Her fingers tightened around the robe she clutched to her body, her earlier confidence slowly crumbling. It was past 1 a.m., and she was still waiting.

A sinking realization dawned on her—she had been so caught up in her plans, so foolishly hopeful, that she hadn't considered the possibility that Humza might not even come home tonight. He never does after a fight.

The bitter truth settled over her like a heavy weight. She had spent hours working up the nerve, preparing herself, and waiting... for nothing.

Another set of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Anaabiya instinctively turned toward the door but hesitated this time. Exhaustion seeped into her bones, both physically and emotionally. If it was Bibijaan or Malika, she couldn't let them see her like this—dressed in this ridiculous, sultry nightwear that suddenly felt humiliating rather than seductive.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she turned to her closet, hastily searching for something decent to change into. No point wearing this stupid dress when there is no Humza.

Her hands trembled as she pulled out a modest cotton nightgown. The excitement, the anticipation, the nervousness—it had all been for nothing. Now, all she felt was foolish.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of glass shattering against the floor cut through the silence, sending a jolt of panic through Anaabiya. Her heart lurched in her chest, and without a second thought, she abandoned her search for new clothes. Leaving the door to her walk-in closet half-open, she hurried toward the bedroom door, her bare feet moving instinctively, her pulse quickening.

As soon as she swung the door open, the sight before her knocked the breath from her lungs. For a brief, horrifying moment, she forgot how to breathe. It was as if the world around her had tilted on its axis, shattering along with the broken vase on the floor.

She stood frozen, her body paralyzed, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. And then, like a tidal wave, a crushing, suffocating pain swept over her, drowning her in its depths.

Her whole world came crumbling down.

It felt as though an invisible blade was being driven straight into her heart, twisting mercilessly with every passing second. The betrayal, the disbelief, the searing agony—it all hit her at once, a storm raging inside her.

Despite the chaos of emotions ripping through her, her feet moved on their own. She walked forward, each step unsteady, but she didn't care. She didn't care about her revealing attire, about her vulnerability, about anything—because nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except the sight in front of her.

Tears burned in her eyes, blurring her vision, but she could still see them.

A blonde woman, draped in a barely-there dress, stood dangerously close to Humza, her arms looped around his neck as she leaned into him, her lips mere inches from his. From where Anaabiya stood, it looked like they were locked in a heated kiss, their bodies pressed together in undeniable intimacy.

His back was pinned against the corridor wall, his expression obscured, his posture unreadable. The scene before her painted a picture she never wanted to see—a picture of betrayal, of deceit, of a love that was never hers to begin with.

Anaabiya's breath hitched, her vision blurring with unshed tears. Rage and heartbreak twisted together inside her, suffocating her, drowning her in their cruel grip. The world around her faded, leaving only the crushing weight of the sight before her.

Humza and another woman—so close, too close.

They're kissing.

The words echoed in her mind like a death sentence, even though she hadn't actually seen their lips meet. But did it even matter? The proximity, the way the woman clung to him, the way Humza wasn't pushing her away—it was enough. Enough to shatter her into a million pieces.

The flower vase that had once sat elegantly on a stand was now reduced to a mess of broken glass, its delicate petals crushed beneath the weight of destruction. Just like her heart.

The betrayal was unbearable.

Tears streaked down her cheeks as she stood there, breathing heavily, fists clenched at her sides. Fury and devastation warred within her, battling for dominance, consuming every inch of her being.

How could he?

How could he do this to her?

Humza's hand moved slowly along the woman's back, his touch seemingly familiar, intimate. His other hand was out of Anaabiya's sight, hidden from her view, making her mind conjure up the worst possibilities. And then came the sound that broke her completely—his low, deep moan, slipping past his lips as if he were reveling in the moment, as if he wanted this.

Anaabiya's breath stilled in her throat, her body growing rigid as the blonde woman leaned in even closer, her lips trailing along his neck, over the sensitive skin near his collarbone. The sight sent a fresh wave of anguish crashing over Anaabiya, making her stomach churn with disgust and heartbreak.

The woman was the epitome of seduction—her golden hair cascaded down her back in effortless waves, her tight, barely-there dress clung to every curve, leaving little to the imagination. She exuded confidence, allure, and everything Anaabiya felt she lacked in this moment. She glanced down at herself, at the delicate robe loosely wrapped around her, the seductive slip underneath that now felt ridiculous. What was I thinking?

The tears fell freely now, hot and unrelenting, burning her skin as they trailed down her face. But no one noticed. No one cared.

A hollow ache settled in her chest, making her feel like she had run a marathon only to reach the finish line and find nothing waiting for her. Exhaustion overtook her—not just physical, but emotional, the kind that made her bones heavy with sorrow.

That was it. That was all she could take.

She had fought, she had hoped, she had foolishly convinced herself that there was love between them, even if Humza refused to say it. But this? This was undeniable proof that she had been nothing but a fool.

No one who truly loved another could do this to them. No one who cared would let someone else touch them like this.

The realization struck her harder than she expected.

He doesn't love me.

And maybe... maybe he never did.

Anaabiya was about to turn away, ready to flee before the agony consumed her whole, when Humza's eyes snapped open.

For a moment, he just stood there, his expression unreadable. Then his gaze dropped—slowly, shamelessly raking over her from head to toe. Anaabiya's stomach twisted at the way his Adam's apple bobbed, his throat working as if he were trying to swallow something heavy. His hands, which had once been on the blonde woman, now hung uselessly at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as his scrutiny deepened.

His stare wasn't just lingering—it was burning.

But Anaabiya had no interest in whatever was flickering in his dark eyes. All she could feel was the weight of her own heartbreak pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. She glared at him, her tear-filled eyes dripping with rage, with betrayal, with every emotion she wished she could shove down and ignore.

But Humza?

His face remained disturbingly blank. A void. As if nothing had happened. As if she was nothing.

The pain in her chest doubled.

Then, the blonde woman let out a sultry little hum, pressing herself even closer to him, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Mmm, baby, you're so tense," she purred, running her nails lightly down his arm. "Why don't we take this inside? It's been so long... I miss you."

She traced a finger over his earlobe playfully before spinning on her heel, strutting toward the nearest bedroom with all the confidence of a woman who knew she was desired. She didn't even look at Anaabiya. Didn't acknowledge her presence.

As if she didn't matter at all.

As if she wasn't standing there, falling apart.

Humza didn't spare Anaabiya another glance.

Without hesitation, he followed the blonde inside, his movements eerily mechanical, like a puppet on strings. The door remained ajar—wide open, almost deliberately so. As if daring Anaabiya to watch.

And then came the sounds.

Soft whimpers. A breathy moan. The kind of noises that made Anaabiya's stomach churn violently.

A wave of nausea crashed over her, rising so fast she barely had time to react. Covering her mouth with a trembling hand, she spun around and bolted for her room, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The moment she reached the washroom, she collapsed to her knees in front of the sink, gagging as she retched up everything she had eaten that night.

Her body convulsed with each heave, her throat burning, her stomach twisting in knots that refused to unravel. When it finally subsided, she slumped against the cool marble floor, utterly drained.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as silent tears trickled down her cheeks, mixing with the remnants of her despair.

This was it. The breaking point.

She had given this marriage her everything. Every ounce of patience, every fragment of hope—every foolish dream she had dared to hold onto. And for what?

For this?

For the man she loved to betray her so cruelly?

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her body trembling. But no matter how much she wiped, more kept falling.

Because deep down, she knew.

There was nothing left to fight for.

He didn't deserve her.

The realization struck Anaabiya with the force of a thunderstorm—raw, unforgiving, and impossible to ignore.

A deep, seething anger unfurled inside her, burning away the last remnants of her heartbreak. How dare he do this to her? How dare he toy with her emotions like she was nothing more than a plaything to be discarded?

She refused to be the kind of woman who wept in the shadows while injustice trampled all over her. No, she wasn't built for silent suffering. She wasn't some fragile doll to be broken and tossed aside.

Brushing away the last of her tears, she pushed herself up from the cold marble floor, her legs shaky but her resolve stronger than ever. She let out a bitter, humorless laugh, mocking herself for the ridiculous effort she had put into trying to seduce him. What a joke.

She had stood before the mirror, anxiously adjusting the seductive nightwear, hoping—praying—that he would finally see her. That he would finally want her the way she had wanted him.

But he didn't deserve to see her like that.

With renewed determination, she stripped off the silk and lace, replacing it with her usual clothes. The fabric felt heavier, safer. She draped her headscarf over herself, concealing every inch of skin as if shielding herself from the humiliation he had forced upon her.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms.

She would not let him get away with this.

With each step she took, her anger sharpened, fueling her resolve. She stalked toward their bedroom—no, his bedroom—her heart pounding like a war drum.

And when she reached the doorway, she found it still ajar.

Wide open. As if mocking her.

As if daring her to take that step inside.

Her jaw clenched, and she inhaled deeply.

He had played with her heart.

Now, it was time for him to suffer.

Anaabiya had stopped crying, but the evidence of her heartbreak remained. Her nose was red, her eyes swollen, and her chest felt like it was caving in under the weight of betrayal. Yet, there was no hesitation in her steps as she stormed into the room, her fury guiding her like a raging fire.

And then—her heart shattered all over again.

Humza stood with his back to her, his towering frame pressing a barely-dressed woman against the wall. The woman's breath hitched in shock when she spotted Anaabiya entering, her wide eyes flickering with something between guilt and fear.

Humza was saying something—cursing under his breath, caught up in whatever sick game he was playing—when Anaabiya grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him around with all the strength she had.

He barely had time to react before her fist connected with his face.

A sharp crack echoed through the room. Humza staggered back, caught completely off guard, nearly losing his balance. Not because the punch had been particularly strong, but because he hadn't expected it.

The woman gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as if she had just witnessed something unspeakable.

Anaabiya's chest heaved, rage coursing through her veins like poison. "You're worse than a filthy, spineless bastard!" she spat, her voice shaking with raw fury.

She expected to see blood—expected to see at least a bruise forming on his perfect, unbothered face. But there was nothing. Not even a single mark. Meanwhile, a sharp pain serrated through her knuckles, making her wince.

She clenched her hand tightly, ignoring the throbbing ache. It was nothing compared to the pain that was tearing through her heart.

Anaabiya spun on her heel, ready to leave this wretched scene behind, but before she could take a single step, a strong hand clamped around her wrist, yanking her back with a force that made her stumble slightly.

She barely had time to catch herself before she found herself chest to chest with Humza.

His grip was ironclad, fingers digging into her arm just enough to make his displeasure clear. His face was mere inches from hers, his breathing uneven, his body radiating a dangerous heat. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils flaring as he glared down at her with eyes darkened by something unrecognizable—fury, challenge, something more menacing.

His usually sharp, composed demeanor had cracked.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was low but sharp, laced with a quiet wrath that sent a shiver down her spine.

Anaabiya refused to cower. Instead, she lifted her chin, eyes blazing as she threw his own rage back at him. "Oh, did I strike a nerve?" she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "Well, let me make myself clear, Humza. You—are—no—better—than—a—cheap—whore."

A slow, almost mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, though his grip on her arm only tightened. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something lethal.

"You've got some nerve," he murmured, his voice deceptively calm, dangerously quiet. His thumb brushed over the inside of her wrist, almost absentmindedly, as if debating something in his head.

Anaabiya felt her pulse hammer beneath his touch, but she refused to let him see how much his proximity affected her. She glared at him, matching his intensity with her own.

"And you've got no shame," she shot back, voice unwavering.

Humza's grip on her wrist remained unrelenting as he loomed over her, his towering presence suffocating. His dark eyes bore into hers, a twisted mix of amusement and menace gleaming within them.

"Do you even know who you're talking to?" His voice was a low, menacing whisper, yet it held the weight of a violent storm. His arrogance dripped from every syllable, filling the space between them with an unbearable tension. "I could end you with a mere snap of my fingers."

Anaabiya felt an involuntary shudder crawl up her spine. The sheer confidence in his tone was chilling, not because she doubted his words, but because she knew he was fully capable of it.

And yet, she refused to let fear silence her.

Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she clenched her fists and took a shaky breath. "Then why don't you?" she challenged, her voice cracking slightly, betraying the tremor of fear she desperately tried to mask. "Why don't you just let me go?"

Humza's lips curled into a smirk, as if thoroughly enjoying her struggle. He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, making her heart pound furiously against her ribs.

"Oh, habibti," he murmured mockingly, his tone laced with dark amusement. "If only it were that simple."

The intensity of his gaze burned through her, rendering her momentarily frozen. The air between them was thick with an unspoken battle, one that neither of them was willing to lose.

But she refused to let him toy with her any longer.

Summoning whatever strength she had left, she met his gaze head-on, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside her. "Don't you fear Allah?" she asked, searching for any trace of remorse in his eyes, any sign that he still had a soul buried beneath that ruthless exterior.

For the first time, something flickered in his expression—something unreadable, something almost human. But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

His smirk twisted into a sneer. "Save your preaching for someone who gives a damn," he spat coldly. "I don't need a lecture on faith from you.. Mind your own business!"

Anaabiya's heart clenched at his words, at the bitterness that laced them. He was utterly lost, drowning in his own darkness, and yet a part of her still ached for him.

But he didn't deserve her love.

Not when he was hellbent on destroying himself—and taking her down with him.

Her hijab began to slip from her head, and a sudden panic gripped her. Not in front of him. Not when his gaze held nothing but raw arrogance and dominance.

For the first time that night, Anaabiya felt truly weak. And Humza? He thrived on it.

Anaabiya's chest heaved with anger, her pulse hammering as she glared up at Humza, her defiance unwavering despite the suffocating grip he had on her arms. His hold was like steel, unrelenting, pressing down with just enough force to remind her of his strength, his control. She knew she would wake up to fresh bruises, purple and blue marks staining her skin like a cruel reminder of his cruelty. But the physical pain was nothing—nothing compared to the raw ache in her heart.

"My business?" she spat, her voice sharp, laced with bitterness. "Well, guess what, mister? You are my business! Or have you conveniently forgotten that you are the one who forced me into this marriage?"

She pushed against him with all her might, desperate to break free, to put distance between them—but it was useless. His body didn't budge, not even an inch. It was like trying to move a mountain with bare hands.

Humza's expression remained unreadable, but the way his jaw ticked betrayed his irritation. His grip didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened.

"You should be grateful that I don't take everything I want by force," he bit out, his voice sharp enough to cut.

His words struck her like a blade, slicing through every ounce of strength she had left. Grateful? For what? For not violating every last piece of her dignity? For allowing her to breathe?

A lump formed in her throat, and she hated the sting of tears that blurred her vision. She refused to cry—not in front of him. Not when he didn't deserve to see her break.

She swallowed the pain, masking it with venom instead. "Why?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt. "Are those other women not enough to satisfy you?"

Her words landed like a slap, and for the first time, she saw something flicker in his dark eyes—something dangerous. His entire body tensed, his grip tightening like a vice.

"Enough!" he roared, the sound echoing through the walls, shaking the very air between them.

Anaabiya flinched, but she stood her ground, refusing to look away. She had pushed him beyond his limits, and she wanted to. He deserved every ounce of anger she had buried inside her.

Without looking at her, Humza's head snapped toward the barely-dressed woman lingering in the background, her eyes filled with hesitation, watching the exchange unfold.

"Get the fuck out," he ordered, his voice dripping with venom.

The woman didn't need to be told twice. She scrambled to gather her things, scurrying out of the room like frightened prey fleeing from a predator. Within seconds, she was gone.

And then, there was silence.

The air between them was thick, suffocating. The tension so heavy it felt like the walls themselves might crumble beneath it.

But Anaabiya refused to back down. She refused to be another pawn in his twisted game.

If he thought he could break her, he was dead wrong.

Anaabiya struggled against his grip, twisting and pulling, but Humza's hold was firm, unyielding. "Let me go!" she shouted, desperation creeping into her voice. "Leave my hand, Humza!"

But he didn't.

Instead, his jaw tightened, his features contorting with barely restrained fury. "Stop being so pathetic," he snapped, his voice dripping with cold disdain. "For God's sake, stop clinging to me like some desperate, lovesick fool. Don't you get it? I hate you! I fucking hate you!"

The words sliced through her like jagged glass, each syllable embedding itself into her already fractured heart. Anaabiya's breath hitched, her chest tightening as if the walls around her were closing in. He hates me? The same man who once held her like she was his world? The same man who had pulled her into his arms like she was the only thing keeping him alive?

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not yet. Not when he was looking at her with such cruel indifference.

"Why?" her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "Why are you doing this to me, Humza?"

But he didn't answer. He just stared at her, his expression void of emotion, like she was nothing. Like she had never meant anything.

Something inside her snapped.

With trembling hands, she grabbed his collar, yanking him closer, her vision now completely blurred by the tears she had fought so hard to hold back. "You call me clingy?" she choked out, her voice breaking. "You think this is desperation? I loved you, Humza! I loved you with everything I had, and you—" her voice wavered as she sucked in a shaky breath, "you destroyed me."

Her words hung heavy in the air between them.

For a moment—just a fleeting moment—something in Humza shifted. His grip loosened, his body stiffened, and his eyes, which had been burning with anger, suddenly softened.

But it was too late.

The damage had already been done.

Anaabiya's breath came out in sharp gasps as she stumbled back, her chest heaving with the force of her emotions. Her vision was clouded with unshed tears, but the resolve burning inside her was stronger than the pain threatening to consume her.

"I've had enough, Humza," she choked out, her voice shaking yet firm. "Enough." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the weight of her heartbreak made it impossible. "I can't do this anymore. I won't do this anymore."

Her hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides as she fought to hold herself together. "I'm leaving," she declared, her voice laced with finality. "Right now. You can go ahead and enjoy with whoever you want to —I don't care. This contract? Consider it over."

The moment the words left her lips, she saw it—fear.

A flicker of panic passed through Humza's dark eyes, his pupils dilating as if he had just been doused in ice-cold water. His breath hitched, and for the first time, he looked lost. The arrogant smirk that usually adorned his lips had vanished, replaced by something unsettling. Dread.

Anaabiya hesitated for a brief second, stunned by his reaction. Why does he look so afraid?

But she didn't let herself dwell on it. She turned sharply on her heel, her heartbeat hammering in her chest as she made her way to the door.

She had barely taken a step when his grip tightened around her arm, yanking her back with more force than before.

"You can't leave," Humza's voice was low, almost unsteady. There was no malice this time, no arrogance—just raw desperation he was trying hard to mask. "You're not leaving this house."

Something in his tone made her pause. It wasn't just possessiveness—it was something deeper. Something she couldn't quite decipher.

Anaabiya's brows furrowed in confusion. "Why?" she whispered, searching his face. "Why do you care?"

Humza didn't answer. But his grip on her only tightened, his breathing growing heavier, his entire body tense as if he was holding onto something fragile—something that, if he let go, would shatter completely.

Anaabiya took a shaky step back, her heart aching yet resolute. "I'm leaving, Humza. You can't keep me here, and you can't keep torturing me like this. I'm done. I'll go far away—so far that you'll never have to see me again."

Her voice wavered, but her determination did not.

Humza looked like he had been punched in the gut. His usually composed, ruthless demeanor was nowhere to be found. His lips parted slightly as if to argue, but no words came out. His dark eyes, filled with something she couldn't quite decipher, bore into hers with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

For a moment, she thought he might break—completely shatter before her eyes.

"I. Said. You. Can't. Leave. Me."

The words left his mouth in a deep, guttural growl, but there was no anger laced in them. No arrogance. Just fear.

Anaabiya froze.

It was a fear so raw, so unguarded, that she barely recognized the man standing before her. The beast inside him had been tamed—not by force, but by something much stronger. Desperation.

Her brows furrowed, confusion swirling in her mind. "Why does it matter?" she whispered, searching his face. "Why do I matter?"

Humza clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering with a battle he didn't want to lose. He looked... broken. As if she had just ripped something vital away from him. But she didn't wait for an answer.

With a sharp yank, she twisted her wrist out of his grasp, managing to free herself. The moment his hold loosened, she spun around, ready to bolt—ready to finally leave the man who had done nothing but destroy her.

But she had barely taken a step when she felt it.

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back forcefully. She gasped as her body collided with his, her back pressed flush against his chest.

He was holding her.

Tightly.

Desperately.

The warmth of his embrace seeped through her layers of clothing, his hold unyielding as if letting go would mean losing something he couldn't afford to lose.

Anaabiya stiffened, her breath hitching. She was amused—shocked, even—by the sudden turn of events.

But what he had done tonight? That was unforgivable.

"Let me go," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Humza's grip only tightened. His face buried itself in the crook of her neck, and she could feel his ragged breath against her skin.

"I can't." His voice cracked. "I won't."

"Don't..."

Humza's voice was barely above a whisper, but the way it trembled carried a weight Anaabiya had never heard before. His warm breath ghosted over her earlobe, even through the fabric of her headscarf, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. A strange mix of emotions surged within her—anger, betrayal, and something dangerously close to longing.

"Please..." His voice cracked this time. It wasn't a demand. It wasn't a command. It was pleading.

Anaabiya stilled beneath his touch, her struggles fading as confusion clouded her mind. Why? Why was he stopping her now, after everything?

"Why?" she asked, her voice quieter this time, hesitant yet searching. She turned in his grip, slowly facing him, her heart hammering against her ribs.

And then she saw it.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Tears.

Humza's eyes—those same eyes that once held nothing but arrogance and indifference—were glistening with unshed tears.

Anaabiya's lips parted in shock. This was the man who had shattered her heart, the man who had thrown her love in the dirt, the man who had humiliated her without a second thought. Yet, here he was, looking utterly lost, vulnerable in a way she had never seen before.

"I don't know," he murmured, his voice hoarse, broken.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped Anaabiya's lips before she could stop it. "Great. Just great." She shook her head in disbelief, her hands trembling at her sides. "You don't know? After everything you've done to me, after pushing me away over and over again, you don't know?"

She turned sharply, ready to walk away, ready to never look back—

But his grip tightened around her wrist once more, pulling her back before she could take another step.

"Please don't leave." His voice was quieter this time, but the desperation in it was unmistakable.

Anaabiya clenched her jaw, yanking her hand but failing to free herself. Fury swelled within her chest, burning through the remnants of the love she once held for him. "Why should I stay, Humza? Give me one good reason."

He said nothing.

"Do you even hear yourself?" she snapped, her voice trembling with frustration. "You say you hate me. You treat me like I mean nothing. You act like I don't exist unless it's convenient for you. And now, suddenly, you want me to stay?"

She searched his face for an answer, for something—anything—that could justify this madness. But Humza simply stood there, his gaze locked onto hers, his silence stretching unbearably between them.

His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

Because he didn't know.

And that was what hurt the most.

"You know what, Humza?" Anaabiya's voice trembled with barely contained rage, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps. "By the time you finally figure out whatever this is, I'll be gone. And I won't come back."

Her chest ached, her heart warring between the pain he had inflicted and the undeniable pull he still had over her. She clenched her fists at her sides, glaring at the man who had shattered her, piece by piece.

"You confuse me so much," she spat, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "One second, you push me away like I'm nothing, and the next, you won't let me leave. You betrayed me, Humza. You cheated on me. Do you have any idea what that feels like?" Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she took a step closer, her anger drowning out the ache in her chest. "Maybe I should show you. Maybe I should make you feel the same gut-wrenching pain—make you watch me walk away into someone else's arms. Would you like that, Humza? Would you finally—"

"I love you."

The words sliced through the air like a knife, freezing Anaabiya mid-sentence. Her breath hitched, her mind scrambling to process what she had just heard.

"You what?" she whispered, staring at him as if he had just spoken a foreign language.

Humza didn't hesitate this time. His jaw clenched, his entire body rigid with unspoken emotions, but his eyes—his eyes held something raw, something unguarded.

"I said I love you."

Also give your views on the story. Please I request the silent readers as well to comment and give me your review for this story. ♥

Wrote this chapter literally barely being awake. I am so sleepy. Going off to sleep now. When I wake up, Please make amazing amazing comments. If it makes me too happy then maybe I will update again today. Just maybe 😋

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E D I T E D  on 9.3.2025