Damsel In Distress (COMPLETED✓)

CHAPTER: 75| THE ART OF LETTING GO (PART-21)

[PG-13]

Turning the engine off, Aariz eased back into the plushness of the driver's seat. He stretched his legs and closed his eyes, a hand tenderly cradled his forehead while the other loosened his tie. His fingers worked on the buttons, unbuttoning a few at the top. In the absence of animate and inanimate sounds, his rhythmic breathing and heartbeats were the only audible tapestry in an eerily quiet basement.

Everything that had happened that evening seemed to be taking a toll on his body and mind.

Exhaustion weighed upon him, a silent testament to the relentless battles life had been throwing at him.

He was emotionally weathered, physically and mentally drained. He wanted nothing more than sleep.

An escape from reality and a moment of peace.

A part of him regretted meeting Meher. Perhaps, if he hadn't met her, he wouldn't have known. And if he hadn't learnt what his uncle did, he wouldn't have fought with his family.

The other part of him was agitated, frustrated and hurt. The feeling of being deceived by a blood relation churned the fabric of his existence with tumultuous rage.

He doubted he would ever forgive his uncle for what he did and then, he questioned whether Meher was even worth it.

Perhaps, neither of them deserved his forgiveness.

Aariz was done with them. They fell from his eyes to a point where regaining respect seemed unattainable. In fact, acknowledging their existence itself was beyond consideration.

Slipping a hand into his pants pockets, he retrieved a pack of cigarettes. Placing one between his lips, he cupped his hands around his mouth and attempted to flick the lighter when it slipped from his grasp and tumbled onto the car floor. With a groan, he stooped, fingers combing the carpeted floor. There, alongside the lighter, he discovered another item - his cell phone. Aariz seized the device and sat up on his seat. As he lit the cigarette and inhaled, he simultaneously unlocked his cell phone.

The screen illuminated, displaying seventy-three missed calls and numerous text messages from Laiba.

He snubbed the cigarette in the ashtray and quickly checked the text messages first, his heart quickening inexplicably, while pessimistic thoughts insidiously invaded his mind.

He scrolled through all the 'where are you' and 'call me back' messages. He found an image she had sent him and clicked it open. The moment he read the words written on it, his eyes widened.

"What the fuck?"

He swiftly opened the car door and exited within seconds. Striding to the basement elevator, he pressed the button. Restlessly pacing inside as it ascended, he emerged before the doors fully opened. He hurried down the hallway, unlocked the door to the apartment and barged in.

"Laiba?" He called out her name, marching into the house.

As he walked past, the motion-activated lights came to life. After inspecting the living space and the combined kitchen and dining hall, he proceeded to check the bedroom. She wasn't in the first two. "Laiba?" he called out, opening the last door, and there she was, in sujood.