After Yugh left, Anisa retreated into her office, the silence he left behind ringing louder than any argument. She sat, mentally sifting through the wreckage of her own past. š
She had believed in a fairy tale. She had left her family, convinced she was building a cherished life with Zayan, the man she loved more than breath itself. The reality, she now knew, was a carefully constructed illusion. Their differing tastes; in art, in music, in life which she had once optimistically chalked up to "spicing up their love," were in fact fundamental incompatibilities. Zayan had simply gone to find his true match in Zahra, a woman who mirrored his preferences, leaving Anisa with the cruel proof of her own misjudgment.
Resting her head on the cool surface of her desk, she contemplated the uncertain future. Zayan and Zahra had played their deceitful game together, but now, in their absence, it was she who faced Yugh's redirected anger and grief. She was the living target for a betrayal she, too, had suffered. šŖ
Somehow, she had to face it. This was the consequence of the life she had chosen for herself. She had made that choice alone, defying her family for a love that proved false. She had no one else to blame.
A small, fragile comfort emerged from this stark realization: her family. They had, against all odds, begun to forgive and forget. They were offering her the love and support she had once foolishly walked away from. That was her anchor now. š
After a long moment of quiet reflection, Anisa took a deep, steadying breath. She lifted her head, straightened her shoulders, and rose from her desk.
There were responsibilities waitingāher employees, the studio Zayan had built but she now sustained. It was a duty, a foundation of her own making, and she would meet it. Stepping out of her cabin, she returned to the world of tangible tasks, carrying both the weight of her past and the quiet strength of her present. š£