Always

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Murad Iqbal

She was not wearing that damned ring!

"Where is my ring?" I asked her, suddenly feeling the panic surge within me.

"I am asking you something! Where is it?" I yelled, my voice booming in the room.

"At home!" She yelled back, holding my gaze. I tried reading her eyes like I always do. But this time, they didn't portray any sort of readable emotion. But, my instincts were shouting something else at me.

"You were leaving, weren't you?" I asked her, inhaling sharply.

She didn't answer, but looked away, maybe ashamed of herself, and confirming my doubts. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, flaring my nostrils in anger.

I didn't know what to do, so I just ask her; "Why?" In a low voice.

"Why were you doing it? Why were you leaving me when I need you the most?"

"Because if I didn't, then you would." She confesses, leaving me shocked.

Would I?

No. I wouldn't. I would never leave her, no matter how mad I am at her. Never in a million years would I do something that I know I will regret later.

"What is wrong with you?" I yelled.

"Don't you yell at me, now. What was I supposed to do then?"

"Since the day we came back from that place, we are acting like we don't exist for each other. We were living like strangers, Murad! We were sinking. Can't you see that? We are sinking!"

"That doesn't give you a reason for you to leave me!"

"I can't deal with us drifting apart anymore." She said quietly, after a long silence.  "I know you hate me and we can't go back to the way we were before, so let me go." She said, her voice on the verge of cracking.

"Stop saying that! I don't hate you and in no way I am letting you leave. You hear me?" I shook her roughly by her arms, and she just broke into sobs again, shaking her head at me.

She was hurting me. Her actions were scaring me and the way she was sobbing only added to the fear of her leaving me. 

I.AM.NOT.GOING.TO.LET.HER.GO. 

No matter how fucked up we are. I am not going to let her leave me. And that's it!

I grabbed her wrist, firmly holding her and pulled her to her feet, and dragged her out of the room. 

"Murad, let go." She complained and tried to free her hand out of my grasp. We walked down the hallway,  turning every eye towards us as we took steps further. I didn't care if we were making a scene. Or if I looked like the abusive husband, dragging her out of the place like that. But I didn't give a fuck as to what people said.

"Murad! You are hurting me!" She cried.

"No, Momina. You are hurting me more." I roared.

I saw the guilt in her eyes, but couldn't place my finger on what she felt guilty about. She was either guilty about not telling me about Humdaan or guilty for the pain she caused. But, I knew for a fact that, she wasn't guilty on her decision of leaving me. And that's what hurt me the most.

I opened the car door for her, roughly shoved her inside, doing the belt and slammed the door shut. I then jogged around for my seat and starting driving out. The whole ride, we were silent, and the only sound that filled the car were her soft sobs, and her labored breathing. I kept glancing at her every now and then, and kept recalling everything she said.

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