"What are you doing?"

Layla finally managed to push him away, her chest rising with effort, anger flashing in her eyes.

"What am I doing?" Yahzaan echoed, a mocking edge curling his lips as he leaned down again, trying to capture her lips again.

She shoved him hard this time.

"I said stop."

She reached for the door, desperate to get out, but his hand shot forward and gripped her wrist tightly. Yahzaan was already on edge, his temper hanging by a thread, and Layla... she was only pulling it tighter.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

She frowned at his question. "Home."

That one word snapped something inside him.

Before she could react, he stepped out, hoisted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

"Yahzaan!" she struggled, hitting his back, but he didn't stop.

He shoved her into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

The second he moved around the car, Layla seized her chance, she pushed the door open again, ready to run but it slammed shut once more.

She looked up and met Emad's apologetic gaze. Her eyes hardened as she glared at him, then she turned sharply to Yahzaan, fury blazing in her eyes, just as he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Where are you taking me?" Her voice shook despite her effort to steady it. "I want to go home."

"We are going home."

"I don't want to go to your place," she snapped, emphasizing every word. "I want to go to my home."

His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"You're not going anywhere," he said coldly. "You're coming with me."

"No."

"Don't test my patience, Layla. I'm already furious."

She let out a bitter laugh. "And that has what to do with me?"

His jaw clenched. "Nothing to do with you?"

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating but then her voice softened, fragile in a way it hadn't been before. "Please. Just drop me at my apartment."

He didn't answer.

Didn't even look at her.

The city lights blurred past as the car sped toward the penthouse, and with every passing second, Layla felt her chest tighten, like something was slowly closing in.

"You promised me..." she whispered.

His response came without hesitation.

"That promise means nothing to me."

Hearing him, Layla went completely still.

Too still.

The kind of stillness that didn't belong to calm, but to something far more dangerous.

For a brief second, it felt like the world inside the car had paused. Like even the air was holding its breath.

And then

She snapped.

In the very next moment, she lunged at him.

It wasn't graceful. It wasn't controlled. It was desperate.

Her hands flew toward his face, nails ready to claw, to leave bloody marks, to make him feel even a fraction of what he had just done to her.

"You liar!"

Her voice cracked as it rose, sharp and broken at the same time.

But before she could reach him, his arm shot out, catching her mid-motion firm and unmovable.

"Layla."

"Don't you touch me!" she screamed, twisting violently in his hold.

She pushed against him, struggled, tried to break free, but his grip only tightened, holding her in place as if she weighed nothing more than a thought.

And that only made it worse.

"I hate you!" she cried, her voice shaking now, the anger bleeding into something far more fragile. "You promised me!"

Her fists hit against his arm, his shoulder, anywhere she could reach.

"You promised me!"

The words came out louder this time.

"You bastard... you liar..."

Her strength started to falter, her movements losing their force as her vision blurred with tears.

"I should've never come to that ridiculous party," she choked out, her voice uneven, breaths coming in short, shaky bursts. "I should've never trusted you..."

A tear slipped free, then another, until she wasn't even trying to hold them back anymore.

Her anger, her fight turned into pain, raw unfiltered pain.

"You're a liar..." she whispered, the words breaking apart as they left her lips.

Her hands slowly dropped, no longer hitting, no longer fighting.

But she didn't pull away either.

She just... stayed there, caught in his hold, crying openly now, like whatever she had been holding together for so long had finally fallen apart.

Yahzaan was still holding her when she suddenly stopped struggling.

It caught him off guard.

A second ago she was hitting him, pushing him away like she couldn't stand being near him, and then just like that... she went still.

His grip didn't loosen immediately. He was still breathing hard, still tense, waiting for her to start again.

"Layla..."

But she didn't respond.

Instead, she slowly pushed his hand away.

Not angrily. Not even forcefully.

Just... enough to remove it.

Like his touch wasn't something she wanted anymore.

That small movement did more than all her shouting.

Yahzaan's hand stayed in the air for a moment before he pulled it back.

Layla shifted away from him, pressing herself into her seat, turning slightly toward the window. She didn't look at him.

Didn't say anything.

Her hands rested in her lap, fingers gripping her abaya tightly.

The car kept moving, but inside it felt quiet in a way that wasn't normal.

Heavy.

Her shoulders started to shake a little. She tried to control it, taking a slow breath like she didn't want him to hear.

But it didn't work.

A soft, uneven sound escaped her anyway.

Then another.

She lowered her head slightly, like she was trying to hide it.

Tears slipped down her face, one after another. She didn't wipe them. She didn't even try.

She just sat there and cried quietly.

Yahzaan glanced at her, then looked back at the road.

He didn't know what to do with his crying wife.

"Layla..." he said again, a little unsure this time.

No answer.

Not even a look.

She just kept staring out the window like she wasn't really there anymore.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Then loosened. Then tightened again.

He looked at her once more, longer this time.

She looked... tired.

Not just physically.

Like something inside her had given up.

like she had already started pulling away, even though she hadn't gone anywhere.

By the time the car stopped in front of the penthouse, neither of them had spoken for a while.

The engine went quiet, but the silence between them didn't.

Yahzaan glanced at her, half-expecting her to say something now. To argue again. To refuse.

She didn't.

Layla just sat there, her face turned slightly toward the window, her expression empty in a way that didn't feel right.

Not angry.

Not even hurt in an obvious way.

Just... blank.

He looked away first.

Without saying anything, he stepped out of the car and walked around to her side. For a second, he just stood there, staring at the closed door, his jaw tight.

Then he opened it.

"Get out," he almost said.

But the words never came.

Instead, he leaned in and picked her up.

Carefully this time. Not like before.

One arm under her knees, the other around her back.

Layla didn't resist.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't even look at him.

She just let him lift her, like it didn't matter anymore.

Like none of it did.

And that... that unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

Her head rested lightly against his shoulder, but there was no warmth in it. No reaction. No tension.

Nothing.

As if she had already accepted whatever was going to happen next.

As if struggling wasn't worth it anymore.

Because what would it change?

Nothing.

Yahzaan's grip tightened slightly as he carried her inside, irritation building in his chest but it wasn't the same kind as before.

This felt different.

He didn't like this silence.

Didn't like the way she wasn't looking at him, wasn't speaking, wasn't even trying.

It reminded him of earlier.

Of the way she had looked at him when he was talking to Miral.

That same distant, unreadable expression.

Like she had already stepped away from him long before this moment.

His jaw clenched.

For a second, he had the sudden urge to break something.

To grab the nearest vase, throw it against the wall, hear it shatter, just to fill the quiet with something.

Anything but this.

Because this silence...

It wasn't peaceful.

It wasn't calm.

It felt wrong.

He carried her all the way to the elevator.

The doors closed with a soft sound. The ride up felt longer, slow and suffocating.

Yahzaan didn't look at her.

Layla didn't look at him either.

The only thing that filled the space between them were their uneven breaths.

When the elevator finally opened into the penthouse, he didn't pause. Didn't say anything. He just walked straight to the bedroom with her still in his arms.

He pushed the door open and walked in, then moved toward the bed. For a second, he hesitated, just barely before lowering her down.

Carefully this time.

Like he was afraid she might break if he wasn't.

Layla sat where he left her.

Still.

Her hands rested loosely in her lap, but her fingers trembled slightly. Tears continued to fall, slow and silent, slipping from her eyes like she didn't even have the energy to wipe them away anymore.

Yahzaan stayed there in front of her.

Then slowly... he lowered himself, kneeling down so he was at her level.

For once, there was no anger in his face.

No control.

Just something uncertain.

He looked at her, like he wanted to say something.

Anything.

But the words didn't come.

Then Layla lifted her eyes, she looked at him directly without any hesitation.

And somehow, that felt worse.

Because there was no anger left in her expression.

Just hurt.

Deep, quiet hurt.

When she spoke, her voice wasn't loud.

It didn't need to be.

"You're a liar."

The words landed softly.

"I'll never trust your words again."

There was no shouting. No tears in her voice this time.

Just certainty.

And that...

That was what made it worse.

Something in his chest tightened, sharp and unfamiliar, as her words settled in.

Because for the first time that night...

he felt it, that unfamiliar, bitter thing they called... Regret.

____________________

End of the chapter🤍

Thank you for reading ✨

Let me know your thoughts.❤️

____________________

Like

Comments

Share🤍

____________________