Chapter 11 . part 1 until 5
1118 Words
🌙 Part 1/5: The Quiet After the Storm
It had been three days.
Three long days since Qisya last spoke to Hariz.
Three days since she returned from that café and told him—no, begged him—to figure out what he felt before she ran out of strength to keep fighting alone.
And in those three days, Hariz hadn’t said a word.
Not even good morning. Not even goodnight.
The silence in the apartment was louder than any scream.
Qisya moved through the rooms like a ghost—tidying the kitchen, folding clothes, watering the small plant on the windowsill. She wasn’t sure why she still did these things. Maybe to hold on to something. Maybe to keep from falling apart.
Every now and then, she would hear the click of his keyboard from the study. He spent most of his time in there now, as if hiding behind work made it easier to forget they were even married.
But she couldn’t forget.
Not when every room smelled like him.
Not when every corner held a memory she couldn’t escape.
Not when his presence haunted her more than his absence ever could.
⸻
🌧️ Later That Evening…
The rain had started around 6 PM. Soft at first, then louder, like it was knocking at their windows, begging to be let in.
Qisya stood by the kitchen sink, watching the droplets race down the glass. Her reflection stared back at her—tired eyes, faded lips, skin too pale for someone who once used to smile with colour.
She heard the door to the study creak open.
Her heart skipped.
Then—nothing.
Just footsteps walking past the kitchen, heading to the front door.
Hariz was leaving.
Again.
She turned around, voice dry. “You’re not even going to say anything?”
He stopped. His back still to her.
“I have a meeting.”
“At night?” she asked, arms folded.
“Not that it matters,” he replied without turning. “You seem to be doing fine without me.”
Her jaw clenched. “And you’ve made it so easy to forget you’re even here.”
That made him pause. But only for a second.
Then the door closed behind him.
And she was alone again.
đź“– Chapter 11: When Silence Screams
🌙 Part 2/5: The Rain That Heard It All
Hariz didn’t drive far.
Just enough to be out of sight.
He sat in the car, engine running, staring at the raindrops trailing down the windshield. It was ridiculous. He’d told himself he needed space. That she didn’t matter. That he could walk away without feeling anything.
So why did her voice echo in his head now?
“You’ve made it so easy to forget you’re even here.”
He swallowed hard.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care.
It was that caring scared the hell out of him.
Because if he let himself care—even just a little—then everything would unravel. The wall he built, the numbness he clung to, the reasons he convinced himself that marriage was just a duty… they’d all fall apart.
He leaned back in his seat, eyes closed.
But her face wouldn’t leave him.
Not her quiet strength. Not the way her voice broke that night. Not the look in her eyes when she said “I’m tired of holding on.”
⸻
🌙 Part 3/5: A Letter Never Sent
That night, Qisya couldn’t sleep.
So she did what she hadn’t done in years—she wrote.
Not a message. Not a post.
A letter.
To him.
“Dear Hariz,
I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. But I need to write it, even if only to let these feelings stop choking me.
I didn’t marry you expecting love. I knew what this was. A choice made for us. A situation we were forced into.
But I hoped—God, I hoped—that maybe along the way, you’d see me.
That maybe I’d matter to you.
Not because I cooked. Or kept quiet. Or smiled at your family. But because I stayed. Because I tried. Because I wanted to be something real to you.
But maybe that was my mistake—wanting too much from someone who never planned to give.
– Qisya”
She folded the letter and slipped it into her drawer.
She didn’t know if she’d ever give it to him.
But it helped her breathe.
⸻
🌙 Part 4/5: A Storm Inside
Hariz returned past midnight.
He didn’t expect her to still be awake.
But she was.
Sitting on the couch, knees to her chest, eyes staring blankly at the TV that wasn’t even turned on.
He paused at the door, guilt punching him in the gut.
“I didn’t go to any meeting,” he said quietly.
She didn’t move.
“I drove. Just… needed to breathe.”
Still, no reply.
Hariz stepped further in. “I know I’ve been silent. I know I’ve shut you out. I just… don’t know how to do this.”
She turned her head slowly toward him.
Her eyes didn’t hold anger anymore.
Just emptiness.
“That’s the problem, Hariz,” she said softly. “You keep saying you don’t know how… but you never try.”
He didn’t know what to say to that.
So he sat on the floor, across from her.
Close. But not too close.
⸻
🌙 Part 5/5: The Moment That Didn’t Heal, But Hurt Less
The room was quiet.
Just the sound of rain outside, tapping gently against the windows like whispers.
Hariz looked at her.
Really looked.
She wasn’t the same girl he married. She wasn’t soft anymore. She was stronger now. Sharper. But tired. Wounded.
He rubbed his hands together, nervously.
“I don’t know what I feel, Qisya. I never learned how to name my emotions. But when I saw you with Fikri… I hated it. I hated how easy it looked. I hated that he got to see you laugh. That I didn’t even remember how your real laugh sounded like.”
She blinked.
He swallowed.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “But I also don’t know how to keep you the way you deserve.”
Her lips trembled.
“You’re not supposed to keep me, Hariz,” she whispered. “You’re supposed to stand beside me.”
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time.
It was honest.
And though nothing had been fixed…
That night, for the first time since their wedding…
They didn’t sleep on opposite sides of the bed.
They didn’t touch.
But the distance between them?
Felt just a little less impossible.
- Writer
