The Billionaire's Final Victim | ✓

[48] This Moment.

A/N: Please, feel free to play the above music in the background as you read this chapter! It'll add to the scene. ☺️

- - -

Dunia runs over to to him and collapses on the floor beside him. "Barqat? Barqat! Oh my God, Barqat, please wake up!"

Her eyes are on the bottle of pills, which seem to look full and untouched. Then, she sees another bottle roll out of his pocket, "It's empty... Oh my God, it's empty... Ya Allah, it's empty... W-what do I d-do?" She screams, she screams as loud as her voice can go. Her hands run through her hair, gripping at it so hard that she could feel her scalp stinging.

Brick by brick, the emotional walls that she built around her came tumbling to the ground. Tears are flowing down her face as if there's a heavy storm in her eyes. Her sobs begin quietly but slowly building up to where it punches through, ripping through muscles, bones, and guts. She presses her forehead against Barqat's, her heart tugging in and out of her chest. It's like a yo-yo being pulled back and forth with as much force as possible. Over and over and over again.

"I'm so sorry, Barqat. I'm so very sorry. Please find it in your heart to forgive me." Dunia becomes empty and hallow. She let everything crumble using her own two hands.

She tries to pull herself together and fiddles around, looking for her cell phone to call for help.

Then, suddenly, she feels a hand slowly rest on her arm and her head quickly shoots up to look at Barqat.

"Barqat!" She almost squeals, her heart fluttering as if she's seeing him for the first time and falling in love again. She throws her hands around him, holding him close to her until he pushes her off.

She shakes off the feeling of disappointment and grabs his wrist to check his pulse. To her relief, she can feel a pulse, it's normal. She slowly places his head on her lap, while caressing his hair. He was sleeping or passed out from the alcohol, she reassures herself. But what about the pills...?

His icy cold eyes are fluttering open, as he says, "Wha-what are you doing here?" Still dazed from the alcohol.

"What am I doing here?!" She snaps out of her trance and repeats his question mockingly with a hint of sadness. "Have you seen the state you're in? Are you trying to take your own life?" Dunia scolds him, while trying to keep her sobs under control. 

He doesn't answer her. He plops himself up from her lap, and sits against the wall.

"And you care because?" His voice is stone cold, his eyes are foggy yet sharp enough to pierce through Dunia's soul.

Dunia winces at the question. She's holding onto the urge to throw her arms around him again, and hold him in her arms for next few hours. "Are you really asking me that? Are you kidding me, Barqat? Why didn't you call me? Text? Email? Could've sent a letter through the mail, for all I cared as long as I got something."

"You could've have called if you really wanted to." His voice is grim.

Dunia scoffs as she wipes her tears, "I wanted you to call, I wanted you to put aside your ego for once and just ask for me, I would've ran right back home."

Barqat doesn't say anything at first, and sighs at first. Then, he lets out a sad laugh, "I fucked up again, didn't I? I never know what the fuck to do, I'm an ignorant piece of shit."

"All this self-pity you have bottled up in you makes you blind to the fact that there's someone who loves every part of you, flaws and all. You nee to—" Her eyes lay on his hands, which are bloody and bruised. She gasps, "Barqat... Ya Allah, your hand!" That's where the blood on the floors came from. She bolts up and darts for the cupboard to get the First Aid kit.