Chapter 39: Virgin Husband
While reading, you can listen to the instrumental version of "I’d Rather Pretend" by Bryant Barnes.
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Mira’s pace quickened as she made her way down the road, her heart racing and her mind clouded with an overwhelming torrent of emotions. She grabbed her phone with trembling hands, desperately trying to book a cab. The pain inside her was a gnawing ache that seemed to grow stronger with every step she took. She needed to leave, to escape the suffocating weight of her anguish. She couldn’t bear to stay here any longer; it was all too much.
As she navigated the app, trying to find the nearest available ride, a sleek black car suddenly screeched to a halt right in front of her. Mira was startled, her confusion palpable as she looked up, her eyes wide with shock. The unexpectedness of the car’s arrival was jarring, adding to her already heightened state of distress.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she approached the vehicle, each step feeling like an effort. The sight of Zamian standing by the car was like a cruel twist of fate. The painful memories associated with him made it hard for her to breathe. She felt as though her chest was being squeezed by an invisible hand, making it difficult to stay composed.
Zamian, seeing her distress, gently reached out and took her hand. "Mira," he said softly, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. Mira didn’t turn to face him, her body rigid with a mix of defiance and despair. Her silence and refusal to acknowledge him seemed to puzzle him further. Despite his usual confidence and control, he found himself at a loss, unsure of how to address the depth of her visible pain.
"Why are you doing this?" Zamian asked, his tone calm yet tinged with frustration. "Are you trying to make this more difficult? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?"
Mira remained still, her heartache so profound that it felt like it was physically tearing her apart. Tears began to silently stream down her face, each one a testament to the crushing weight of her disappointment and sorrow. She tried to keep her composure, but the pain was too intense. The man standing before her, who usually had an air of control and detachment, now seemed perplexed and unsure.
Mira finally looked at him, her eyes brimming with sadness. "How could you let them wear such revealing clothes?" she asked, her voice trembling as she struggled to hold back her sobs. "Aren’t there supposed to be dress codes in your company?"
Zamian’s eyes widened slightly as he took in her distress. He hadn’t fully grasped the impact that this had on her. His usual calm demeanor was now overshadowed by a growing realization of her emotional turmoil. "I didn’t want her to seduce my virgin husband," Mira added, her voice breaking as she wept quietly. Each word was laden with pain, a stark contrast to Zamian’s calm exterior.
Zamian stood still, bewildered. He was trying to piece together if Mira’s anguish was related to what she had heard or seen. He wondered if her behavior yesterday had been influenced by this revelation. "Mira," he began, "just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t..."
Before he could finish his thought, Mira interrupted, her voice trembling with desperation. "You haven’t what? Please, just tell me—what haven’t you done?"