"Hasan, what was that?" Anisa asked, still in shock from the sudden, public kiss. đ§
"Oh, baby, what happened was... today you looked more beautiful than ever. I couldn't control myself," he said, his voice a smooth blend of apology and flattery.
"Oh, you and your antics. We're not even married yet," she replied, a blush rising to her cheeks despite her words. đ€
"That's true. But you love me, don't you? This is just my way of showing love," Hasan countered, his eyes locked on hers.
Anisa offered him a small, flustered smile, though the discomfort of the public display lingered. "Come on, Anisa, let's go for that walk," Hasan said, opening the car door for her with exaggerated chivalry. Anisa, swept along by his momentum, got into the car. đ„
_____________________________________
Back inside the studio... đ
Yugh, slumped at his desk, struggled to catch his breath, a physical reaction to the emotional blow he had just witnessed. The image of Hasan kissing Anisa played on a torturous loop in his mind.
Why does seeing that hurt me so much? It feels like I'm standing in the middle of a fire. She's the wife of the man who had an affair with my late wife. So why am I so tormented by her? He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly as if to pull the conflicting thoughts from his skull. The lines between past betrayal, present protectiveness, and a deeply buried, unacknowledged feeling were blurring into an unbearable ache. He was a prisoner in a cell of his own making, watching the woman he was trying to save walk willingly, and happily, further into the arms of her captor. đââïž