Denial is a Funny Thing

Aira pulled away—abruptly, almost forcefully—creating space between them as if the warmth of his embrace had burned her. She turned her back to him, rubbing her eyes aggressively, frustration clear in every movement.

Muneeb watched her with amusement, his arms now crossed over his chest. "So," he drawled, tilting his head, "why exactly are you crying if you claim you have no feelings for me?"

Aira's body stiffened.

He smirked. "I mean, if I was just some random husband forced into your life, you wouldn't care about what my mother said, right?"

Aira spun around, glaring at him. "I don't care!"

Muneeb chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Sure. That's why you're crying over something she said about me, huh?"

Aira opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Because, deep down, she didn't have an answer. Or maybe she did, and she just didn't want to admit it.

He took a lazy step toward her, his gaze locked onto hers, sharp and knowing. "Tell me, Aira," he murmured, voice dropping lower. "If I mean nothing to you, why did the idea of other girls in my life bother you so much?"

Her breath hitched, her heart pounding against her ribs.

She hated that he saw through her so easily.

She hated that he wasn't wrong.

But she refused to give him that satisfaction.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, turning away.

Muneeb grinned. "And yet, here you are, losing sleep over me."

Aira clenched her jaw, inhaling sharply. "I was just… upset because your mother was being unfair. That's all."

Muneeb raised a brow. "Unfair? Or did it hurt because for a moment, you actually believed it?"

Silence.

Aira swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him.

Muneeb took another step forward, closing the space between them again. His voice was quieter now, more serious. "I meant what I said, Aira. There was no one before you."

She bit her lip, fingers curling at her sides. "Why should I believe you?"

His jaw ticked. "Because I don't lie."

Aira finally met his gaze, and something in his eyes made her breath catch. He wasn't teasing anymore. He wasn't playing games. He meant it.

The weight of the truth settled between them, thick and suffocating.

And for the first time since their marriage, Aira wasn't sure if she was afraid of Muneeb's arrogance… or the possibility that she was starting to care.

Really care.

Muneeb smirked again, but this time, it wasn't mocking—it was knowing.

"Next time you cry over me," he murmured, brushing past her as he headed toward the stairs, "just admit it, alright?"

And with that, he left her standing there, heart racing, mind spinning, and absolutely, utterly confused.