It was nearing 11 PM. The room was dimly lit by the warm bedside lamp, casting soft shadows on the pale lavender walls. The air was still, heavy with everything left unspoken.
Hadi sat on the floor beside Maira’s bed, his back resting lightly against the side of the mattress. His legs were folded, his head tilted slightly downwards, and his hand remained limp, not gripping, not pulling away, but still held tightly by Maira’s delicate fingers. She was asleep now, deep in slumber, her body curled under the blanket, her breath slow but uneven, almost as if her dreams were still haunted by the trauma of a few hours ago.
She hadn't let go of his hand since she’d drifted off. And Hadi… he hadn’t the heart to move it.
He couldn’t.
He stared ahead, blankly, his mind unable to shut down.
He had not held her hand back, of course. Not even slightly. He didn’t dare. Not now. Not when she was in such a fragile, vulnerable state. It would’ve been wrong. He knew that. He had crossed too many lines already, emotional, moral, and now... protective. There was a very fine line between being her guardian in this moment and overstepping that boundary again. And Hadi didn’t want to add to her distress in any way.
He let out a long, silent sigh, his chest rising and falling with a quiet heaviness.
His eyes flickered to her face, peaceful now, but earlier, she had been nothing short of wrecked. And as he sat there, the entire evening replayed in his mind with a harsh clarity.
When he had returned to the apartment after chasing after Faiz and failing to find him in the night, he had found her sitting where he left her, still trembling. The sight had gutted him. Her dupatta had fallen halfway off her shoulder, her expression vacant, stunned, bruised, and shell-shocked. His eyes had instinctively averted out of respect, and without a word, he had walked quietly into her bedroom and come back holding a shawl. He had gently wrapped it around her shivering frame, as if trying to preserve the last remnants of her dignity that Faiz had tried to trample.
Every single tear she shed, every staggered breath, made Hadi want to find Faiz again and finish what he had started.
“Maira,” he had said softly, crouching in front of her again. “Come... let’s go to the room. Get some rest.”
She hadn’t moved.
Her eyes were fixed somewhere far away, as if her mind had detached from her body. Her limbs had gone rigid, her shoulders tense.
With great hesitation, Hadi had leaned in and carefully picked her up in his arms. His hands trembled as he did so, unsure if it was right, but there was no other way. She didn’t protest, only leaned her head weakly against his chest.
He had carried her to her bed and laid her down gently, whispering, “Wait here, I’ll get you some water.”
He had rushed to the kitchen. The glass was barely filled when a strange feeling hit him, and he rushed back to the room, only to find it empty.
The water ran in the bathroom.
He knocked, heart pounding. “Hey… are you okay?” he asked through the closed door.
No response.
He waited. Another minute. Another.
Still no answer.
“I’m coming in,” he called out, not wanting to violate her space but needing to ensure she was safe.
When he stepped inside, the sight before him had shattered him from the inside out.
She was curled up on the cold floor tiles near the wash basin, her body hunched tightly into itself, arms wrapped around her knees, crying soundlessly with her mouth covered, the water still running as if to drown her sobs.
Hadi had felt something rupture in his chest.
He knelt down beside her, turned off the tap, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t know what else to say. No words could undo the damage. No apology could erase the fear, the disgust, the sense of violation she had just faced.
“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” he said, his voice breaking. “I never should’ve let him near you. I thought… I thought he was a decent man. I was wrong.”
She didn’t respond. Her sobs only intensified.
“Maira, please… stop crying,” he whispered again. “Please forgive me.”
He couldn’t stop his own voice from cracking.
Then gently, almost afraid to ask, he said, “Did he… did he hurt you?” He meant physically, but the words lodged in his throat. The emotional hurt was already visible.
Maira, without saying anything, slowly rested her head against his chest. The contact startled him at first, but he let her. She needed comfort, not words, not logic. Just something solid to hold onto.
He held still.
He glanced at her arms, her face, her neck, no visible bruises. No signs of injury.
“Maira…” he asked softly again, “did you get any injuries?”
She shook her head, just barely. But it was enough.
Relief flooded through him.
“Okay… then let’s get you to bed,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Try resting for a while, yeah?”
She pulled away slowly, standing with his support. He led her back to the bed, guided her to sit down. She looked dazed again.
He stepped away to grab a clean towel from her closet. Her face was soaked, whether with tears or the water she’d splashed earlier, he couldn’t say.
He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, gently wiping her face. Her expression remained blank, her eyes staring into the distance, as if her soul had detached from her body.
Then he whispered, “Lie down, Maira. Just rest.”
She obeyed, wordlessly.
He pulled the duvet over her carefully, smoothed the covers.
He turned to switch off the bedside lamp, but just as he moved, he felt a sudden tug.
He turned back.
Maira had caught his hand, holding his index finger tightly between hers, her eyes wide and full of unspoken fear.
“I’ll be here,” he said gently. “Just rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
And so he sat down again, on the floor, beside her bed.
Half an hour passed.
She had drifted off, not easily, not peacefully, but out of sheer exhaustion. And she still hadn’t let go of his hand.
Hadi remained still.
He knew why. She was scared. After everything she had endured over the past few months, the accident, the hospital, the loneliness, and now this, tonight’s trauma was the final blow. Her world had tilted once again. Her reality had been invaded.
And he… he had let it happen.
His mind spiraled.
What if I hadn’t reached in time? What if something had happened? What if she hadn’t messaged me? What if Faiz had… He couldn’t even complete the thought.
Hadi felt sick.
This wasn’t the first time Maira had been hurt because of him. But this, this was the worst.
He had ignored the signs. At the restaurant, when Faiz’s behavior had rubbed him the wrong way, he’d told himself he was overthinking.
He hadn’t trusted his instinct.
And tonight, she had paid the price.
How many more times would she have to suffer because of him? How many more times would he walk into a situation only to end up begging for her forgiveness?
How many more times until she finally gets tired of forgiving me?
He looked at her sleeping face. Even in sleep, her brows were slightly furrowed, lips parted just enough to whisper nightmares. Her fingers still curled around his.
Hadi swallowed the lump in his throat.
He didn’t know what tomorrow held. But for tonight, he would sit there. As long as it took. Until she felt safe again.
---
It was almost 12 am when Hadi, still seated on the floor beside her bed, felt his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. His head had tilted slightly, resting against the mattress as he hovered in that hazy space between consciousness and sleep.
That’s when he heard it, a murmur, soft and broken.
His eyes flew open.
He looked up, blinking away the fog of sleep, and saw Maira. Her face was scrunched, her body shifting uncomfortably under the duvet.
“No… please…” she mumbled, her voice fragile and filled with distress.
A nightmare.
Hadi sat up straight, the drowsiness instantly wiped away. He reached forward, carefully withdrawing his hand from her tight grasp, then turned on the bedside lamp. The soft light bathed the room in a warm glow.
“Maira,” he called gently. “Maira, wake up. It’s okay, you’re safe.”
She stirred, her eyes fluttering open.
And the very next second, the moment her eyes registered the room, the light, his presence, it all came crashing back. The fear. The humiliation. The pain. Her lips trembled, and tears immediately spilled from her eyes, silent but heavy.
Hadi felt his heart clench. “Shh… you’re okay. You’re safe now,” he whispered softly, unknowingly brushing away a strand of hair from her forehead, letting his voice be the anchor she needed.
He sat beside her for a few minutes, letting her cry it out, until her breaths became steadier.
“Would you like to eat something?” he asked cautiously, after a pause.
She didn’t reply.
“You have to take your medicines too,” he added gently. “You’ll be able to sleep better.” His tone was soft but insistent, a quiet nudge rather than a command.
She gave a faint nod, almost imperceptible and that was all he needed.
Hadi got up, walked to the kitchen, and reheated the dinner she had prepared earlier, the one neither of them had touched. As the microwave hummed, he glanced around her little kitchen, clean, familiar, a space she had carved for herself. And tonight, it had become a sanctuary she’d been invaded in.
With the tray in his hands, he returned to the room.
Maira was now leaning against the headboard, eyes closed, her posture slumped. She looked like a hollow shell, awake but not quite present.
As Hadi sat beside her, the tray clinking faintly, her eyes opened slowly and found his. They then flickered down to the tray.
“I’m not hungry,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse, strained from all the crying.
“I understand,” Hadi said with a small nod, “but please try to have a little. You can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”
She hesitated, then finally gave in with a slow nod. That tiny agreement made Hadi’s shoulders drop in relief. He offered her a small smile, gentle and grateful.
He picked up the spoon, made neat little bites, and placed them near her side of the plate so she could eat at her own pace. She picked them up, one by one, in silence. Each swallow was an effort, but she didn’t resist.
Hadi didn’t rush her. He waited patiently, never pressuring, never breaking the quiet. When she finished, he picked up the tray and took it back to the kitchen.
When he returned, Maira was stepping out of the bathroom, drying her hands on a towel. She sat back down on the bed, not meeting his eyes.
Hadi quietly fetched the small strip of tablets from her bedside drawer, along with a glass of water.
“Here,” he said softly, offering them to her.
She stared at the pills for a long moment, then took them silently and downed them in one go. Her hand trembled slightly as she handed the glass back.
“Are you feeling better?” Hadi asked, not quite sure how else to ask if her soul was still hurting.
She gave him a tiny nod, wordless, guarded.
He didn’t believe it, but he accepted it. At least for now.
“Okay,” he said, “then try to get some more sleep.”
He turned to leave, switching off the overhead light, leaving only the bedside lamp glowing.
“Hadi.”
Her voice made him stop.
He turned around instantly, taking a few steps toward her. “Do you need anything?” he asked.
She didn’t look at him. Her eyes were lowered, fixed on the rug beneath her feet.
“He... he called me... a damaged… piece,” she said, her voice cracking near the end.
Hadi froze.
His stomach dropped. The air around him suddenly felt heavier.
He had heard her. Every word, clear as day, even though they were whispered in the softest breath.
He took one step closer, then dropped to his knees beside the bed.
“What are you saying?” he asked, even though deep down, he feared he knew.
Maira lifted her teary eyes to meet his.
“Am I a damaged piece?” she asked between hiccups, her voice splintering into fragments of despair.
“No,” he said quickly. “No. Goodness, Maira, no. You are nothing that man said. Please don’t let his words in. He’s filth. His words were meant to hurt you. Not define you.”
But inside, Hadi was spiraling. His biggest fear had come true. Faiz had said something. He had hinted at her condition, perhaps not explicitly, but enough to make Maira question her worth.
Hadi understood exactly why Faiz had said it. But If there was still a way to keep her unaware, to protect her from the weight of that truth, he was going to take it. Because when the time would be right to reveal it, she needed to be mentally and emotionally prepared. She wasn’t ready back when she was in the hospital, and she certainly wasn’t ready now. So he would hold onto the truth, for as long as it took, until she was strong enough to face it.
“He just wanted to break you, Maira. To feel powerful. People like him, they feed on that. But what he said? It’s all lies. Rubbish. You are anything but that,” Hadi said, his voice raw with pain.
He handed her a few tissues from the nightstand. She accepted them with trembling hands and dabbed at her face.
“Did he… say anything else?” Hadi asked softly, though a storm raged in his chest. If Faiz had said anything more, he needed to know.
Maira hesitated, but then shook her head. She wasn’t ready to revisit those words. But she knew one thing, Faiz wasn’t worth her tears. And more importantly, this wasn’t Hadi’s fault. She could see the guilt etched on every line of his face, in the way his shoulders stooped. He had meant well. He couldn’t have known. And she… she didn’t want him to carry that weight.
He was already punishing himself enough.
Hadi studied her face, her expressions, but didn’t press further.
“Why don’t you rest now?” he suggested gently, sensing her fatigue returning.
Maira lay down, adjusting the duvet over herself.
After a pause, she whispered, “Can you… stay? Till I fall asleep?”
“Of course,” Hadi said without hesitation. “I’ll be here.”
He settled himself on the small couch tucked into the corner of her room, not too far from her bed. The silence stretched out again, but this time it was peaceful, no tension, no heaviness. Just the slow return of calm.
Under the dim light, Maira’s eyes slowly closed again. The medicine helped lull her into a deeper, more restful sleep.
Hadi watched for a while, making sure she was truly resting.
He hadn’t eaten dinner. He couldn’t.
His mind was still spinning. Guilt, fear, anger, exhaustion, they all swirled together in his chest.
Eventually, sleep overtook him too. His head tilted back against the couch cushion, and the shadows of the night finally claimed him.
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
Follow me on Instagram - @author_siya_m for spoilers!!
Rest of the chapters of this story are available on - https://siya-m-writes.stck.me
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.