Chapter 17: Restless Nights

The whole night, he kept turning in his bed. Whenever he closed his eyes, her face appeared before him. All the scenes replayed in his mind: the moment he first saw her, when she crashed into his chest, in the lift, her saving the child that day, and at the hotel when he killed the man aiming a gun at her.

He didn’t know why he did what he did. He could have let that person kill her and it wouldn’t have bothered him, but his hands had moved on their own, shooting the man. And today, when her helpless eyes stared at him, asking for help—the memory of her eyes connecting with his created a spark in him. His heart had skipped a beat, unknowingly. No woman had ever affected him like this. But she did, and that was why he found her different. Oddly attractive.

He liked her hushed breaths, her nervous eyes, her whimpers. He liked everything about her. From her eyes to her toes. There was something about her that was so mesmerising and different.

What was happening to him?

Had he begun to like her?

He shrugged the thought away. It was all because of that bastard Zaroon that he was thinking about her. He was sure it was just infatuation, something he could get out of his system with a single encounter.

He tried to sleep once more, but her face returned to his mind’s eye. Sighing, he sat up and rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling restless, and not knowing the reason only made him more so.

Realizing sleep was out of reach, he got up, put on his shirt, and went to the gym for a workout. His thoughts have began to bother him. He did not appreciate himself to be under the affect of someone to an unhealthy extent. He just wanted to get her out of her mind. And working out gave him the best possible solution in that moment.

At the gym, he was doing cardio exercises. And her face appeared infront his eyes again. He was frustrated. He wanted to feel her. Her plump lips. Her petite frame. He wanted her to be near him. Satiating him. Because his mind was getting fucked up.

Shehryaar breathed in, continuing his exercise, but still her memories from his mind didn't fade away. Rather every other second, his mind kept on reminding him the moments he had spent with her.

Her picture was painted in his mind.

Later that night, he called another woman to satisfy his desires, but even then, he didn’t find the satisfaction he sought.

He wanted someone else.

…

Sheharzaad couldn’t sleep the whole night either. She hugged Amna tightly, crying in her lap. She knew Amna would worry, and that her stress might worsen her condition, but Sheharzaad needed comfort. She knew she was being selfish, but she couldn’t always wear the mask of being strong. She was human. She also had the right to break down.

“Please, Shehar, please don’t cry, my life. God will give us justice,” Amna tried to comfort her, but Sheharzaad clung to her, afraid Rafay would come again. Afraid he would repeat what he’d done. After what happened that day, she knew she wouldn’t be able to live normally again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to trust anyone. She was broken. She had been so close to being assaulted.

Assaulted?

Was she really about to be assaulted?

She never thought such a thing would happen to her. She hadn’t yet recovered from the trauma of what happened at the hotel that night, and now this. But this was worse than the last incident.

At least no one had touched her, kissed her, or ripped away her scarf then. She’d remained pure and untarnished, but now she felt a dark stain on her chastity. She felt impure, disgusted by herself, as if someone had taken her dignity.

“Amna,” she said in a broken voice.

“Yes, Sheharzaad?”

“Please... help me shower. He... he touched me,” she choked out.

“Sure, sure. Come on, get up.”

Sheharzaad took a bath to remove his touch, but still, she felt the lingering sensation on her body. She wanted to scream; her heart was shattering. No one had ever touched her the way that man did.

She felt hopeless.

…

Her whole night was spent praying, and she gave Amna sleeping pills so she could rest. After finishing her prayers, she laid her head on the prayer mat, and at last, she found a peaceful sleep.

Two hours later, she awoke. It was 8 in the morning when she remembered her boss’s order to be in his office at 9 sharp, along with her phone. She couldn’t recall where her phone was; it seemed misplaced. Still, she got ready for work, hoping to reach early enough to find her phone and prepare for what she’d say to the CEO.

It was 8:45 when she arrived at the office and found her phone on her table. She couldn’t remember when she’d placed it there, but when she tried to think back, the events of the previous night filled her mind, so she stopped thinking about it.

Her palms felt queasy as the clock neared 9. She fervently hoped he would believe her over him. Just five minutes remained when her office phone rang, and she picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Sheharzaad,” his rich voice sounded in her ears, and she stood up, startled.

“Yes…yes, sir?”

“Come to my office.”

“Okay, sir,” she replied, and the call ended.

She rushed to his office, knocked, and entered. She found him sitting at his desk, working on his MacBook.

“Good morning, sir,” she greeted him before entering fully. He looked at her, then motioned with his brow for her to sit, continuing to work on his laptop.

She sat, tense, rubbing her hands. She hoped nothing unfavorable would happen, something that could question her position at the company. Her character was at stake.