With Yugh still absent, Anisa single-handedly steered the studio. Her own wedding loomed only six days away, but the workload was so intense she informed her parents she could only return home on the 15th, the eve of the ceremony. They, busy with their own preparations, raised no objection. Though she felt a quiet satisfaction that justice had been served for Zayan, she had no time to dwell on it, consumed by her responsibilities. š«”
One evening, as she left work and walked down the street, she saw Hasan. He was leaning against his car, parked by the curb, clearly waiting for her. She approached him.
"Hi, Hasan. What are you doing here?" š
"I came to apologize, baby," he began, his voice dripping with feigned remorse. "That day, I acted out of fear of losing you. When I saw that photo, I was just... jealous of the guy in it. That's why I behaved so terribly." His performance was meticulous, born from a genuine terror that she might cancel the wedding and unravel all his schemes.
"You did act terribly, Hasan. You wouldn't even listen to me. Look, my wrist is still sore," she said, showing him the faint, lingering mark. š§
"Oh, baby, I was just upset over nothing... over a lie. It was all because of that woman, Seyda," he declared, smoothly offering her a scapegoat.
"Seyda? From our studio? How?" Anisa asked, shocked. š²
"She's the one who showed me the photo and poisoned my mind," he confessed, sacrificing Seyda without a second thought to save himself.
So she's the one who stirred the fire with that photo, Anisa thought, the betrayal from within her own team stinging. š
After a moment of heavy silence, Hasan took her left hand, gently kissing the skin near her still-tender wrist. "Baby, you'll forgive this fool, won't you?" he asked, looking up at her with practiced, pleading eyes.
In that moment, something in Anisa's heart softened. She nodded, granting him the forgiveness he sought. He then showered her with false promises, vowing to always trust her. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, "You do love me, don't you?" š„
She nodded again, a silent affirmation. Seizing the moment, Hasan closed the distance and kissed her; a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. This time, unlike their previous confrontation, she didn't push him away. A strange, hazy warmth enveloped her, blurring the lines between duty, manipulated affection, and her own longing for the fairytale she still hoped this marriage could be. She felt almost intoxicated. š
Later, he drove her home, the perfect, attentive fiancĆ© once more. He had successfully doused the flames of her doubt, not with truth, but with a masterful blend of apology, deflection, and a kiss that left her more confused than ever. š