18-10-2025, 12:47 PM
(This post was last modified: 18-10-2025, 12:47 PM by matiba2025213. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Chapter 43: Sari (Act 5)
Rahim lay on the couch, his body tense and restless. The small jar of oil he’d taken from the burly men felt heavy in his pocket, as if it carried the weight of the night’s horrors. He’d meant to smash it, to throw it away, but something, some twisted curiosity or guilt had stopped him. He pulled it out now, turning it over in his hands. The liquid inside sloshed faintly, catching the dim light from the street outside. He clenched his jaw, disgusted with himself for keeping it, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it go just yet.
The sound of Sari’s muffled sobs drifted from the bedroom, cutting through the silence like a knife. Each cry was a reminder of his failure, of the violence he hadn’t been able to stop. Rahim sat up, his chest tight, and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stay here, listening to her pain. He had to do something.
He stood, the jar still clutched in his hand, and hesitated. Finally, he tucked it back into his pocket and walked to the bedroom door. He knocked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sari? Are you awake?”
There was a pause before her trembling voice replied. “Yes.”
He opened the door cautiously, stepping inside. She was sitting up in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around her as if they could shield her from the world. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Rahim’s heart ached at the sight.
“I… I heard you crying,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Sari. I should have done more to protect you. I should’ve..”
She shook her head, cutting him off. “You did enough. You got hurt because of me. I don’t blame you. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”
Rahim swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a small bottle of anti-anxiety pills Lina kept in the medicine cabinet. “Here,” he said gently, handing her one along with a glass of water from the bedside table. “This might help you sleep. Please take it.”
She hesitated, her fingers trembling as she took the pill. “Thank you,” she whispered before swallowing it with a sip of water. “I don’t know what I’d do without your kindness.”
Rahim forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Sari. Once you go back to your hometown, things will get better. You’ll be safe there.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. “I hope so.”
He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him. “Rahim?” she called softly.
He turned back to face her. “Yes?”
“Can you… can you stay with me? Just for a little while?” Her voice was fragile, like a thread stretched too thin. “I’m afraid to be alone right now.”
Rahim hesitated, his stomach knotting with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She nodded quickly, her hands clutching the blanket tighter. “Please. I trust you.”
He let out a slow breath and grabbed the pillow he’d been using on the couch. He placed it on the floor next to the bed and lay down, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. “I’ll be right here,” he said quietly.
The room fell into silence for a moment before Sari spoke again. “This is your house, Rahim. You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
“It’s fine,” he assured her, though the hard surface was already pressing uncomfortably against his back.
“At least join me on the bed,” she insisted, her voice soft but firm. “I promise I won’t bother you.”
Rahim froze, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” she asked, her tone innocent but laced with a quiet desperation. “I trust you, Rahim. I just don’t want to be alone. I feel safer with you here.”
He hesitated, torn between his concern for her well-being and the unease stirring in his chest. Finally, he gave in, standing up and placing his pillow on the bed. He lay down beside her, careful to keep a respectful distance between them. “There,” he said quietly. “Now try to get some rest.”
She turned onto her side to face him, her eyes searching his in the dim light. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”
Rahim nodded, avoiding her gaze. “You don’t have to thank me.”
Neither of them spoke for a while, but sleep didn’t come easily for either of them. The events of the night hung heavily in the air, refusing to let go.
“Rahim?” Sari broke the silence again after a few moments.
“Yes?”
“What are you thinking about?”
He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess. What happened tonight… it’s hard to process.”
“Me too,” she admitted softly. “I keep replaying it in my mind. I can’t make it stop.”
Rahim turned his head to look at her, his expression filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand on the bed between them. “It’s not your fault. You saved me.”
Her touch sent a jolt through him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let her hand rest there, offering what little comfort he could. “I wish I could’ve done more.”
“You’ve done enough,” she insisted, her voice barely audible. “More than anyone else would have.”
They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt less heavy, less suffocating. Slowly, Rahim felt the tension in his body begin to ease.
“Rahim?” Sari whispered after a while.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for staying with me,” she said, her voice drowsy now as the pill began to take effect.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied softly, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed.
Her breathing slowed, and soon she was asleep, her hand still resting lightly on his. Rahim stayed awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling and grappling with the storm of emotions inside him. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for now, all he could do was make sure she felt safe.
As exhaustion finally claimed him, he drifted off beside her, their breaths falling into sync in the quiet darkness of the room.
Rahim lay on the couch, his body tense and restless. The small jar of oil he’d taken from the burly men felt heavy in his pocket, as if it carried the weight of the night’s horrors. He’d meant to smash it, to throw it away, but something, some twisted curiosity or guilt had stopped him. He pulled it out now, turning it over in his hands. The liquid inside sloshed faintly, catching the dim light from the street outside. He clenched his jaw, disgusted with himself for keeping it, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it go just yet.
The sound of Sari’s muffled sobs drifted from the bedroom, cutting through the silence like a knife. Each cry was a reminder of his failure, of the violence he hadn’t been able to stop. Rahim sat up, his chest tight, and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stay here, listening to her pain. He had to do something.
He stood, the jar still clutched in his hand, and hesitated. Finally, he tucked it back into his pocket and walked to the bedroom door. He knocked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sari? Are you awake?”
There was a pause before her trembling voice replied. “Yes.”
He opened the door cautiously, stepping inside. She was sitting up in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around her as if they could shield her from the world. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Rahim’s heart ached at the sight.
“I… I heard you crying,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Sari. I should have done more to protect you. I should’ve..”
She shook her head, cutting him off. “You did enough. You got hurt because of me. I don’t blame you. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”
Rahim swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a small bottle of anti-anxiety pills Lina kept in the medicine cabinet. “Here,” he said gently, handing her one along with a glass of water from the bedside table. “This might help you sleep. Please take it.”
She hesitated, her fingers trembling as she took the pill. “Thank you,” she whispered before swallowing it with a sip of water. “I don’t know what I’d do without your kindness.”
Rahim forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Sari. Once you go back to your hometown, things will get better. You’ll be safe there.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. “I hope so.”
He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him. “Rahim?” she called softly.
He turned back to face her. “Yes?”
“Can you… can you stay with me? Just for a little while?” Her voice was fragile, like a thread stretched too thin. “I’m afraid to be alone right now.”
Rahim hesitated, his stomach knotting with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She nodded quickly, her hands clutching the blanket tighter. “Please. I trust you.”
He let out a slow breath and grabbed the pillow he’d been using on the couch. He placed it on the floor next to the bed and lay down, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. “I’ll be right here,” he said quietly.
The room fell into silence for a moment before Sari spoke again. “This is your house, Rahim. You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
“It’s fine,” he assured her, though the hard surface was already pressing uncomfortably against his back.
“At least join me on the bed,” she insisted, her voice soft but firm. “I promise I won’t bother you.”
Rahim froze, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” she asked, her tone innocent but laced with a quiet desperation. “I trust you, Rahim. I just don’t want to be alone. I feel safer with you here.”
He hesitated, torn between his concern for her well-being and the unease stirring in his chest. Finally, he gave in, standing up and placing his pillow on the bed. He lay down beside her, careful to keep a respectful distance between them. “There,” he said quietly. “Now try to get some rest.”
She turned onto her side to face him, her eyes searching his in the dim light. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”
Rahim nodded, avoiding her gaze. “You don’t have to thank me.”
Neither of them spoke for a while, but sleep didn’t come easily for either of them. The events of the night hung heavily in the air, refusing to let go.
“Rahim?” Sari broke the silence again after a few moments.
“Yes?”
“What are you thinking about?”
He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess. What happened tonight… it’s hard to process.”
“Me too,” she admitted softly. “I keep replaying it in my mind. I can’t make it stop.”
Rahim turned his head to look at her, his expression filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand on the bed between them. “It’s not your fault. You saved me.”
Her touch sent a jolt through him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let her hand rest there, offering what little comfort he could. “I wish I could’ve done more.”
“You’ve done enough,” she insisted, her voice barely audible. “More than anyone else would have.”
They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt less heavy, less suffocating. Slowly, Rahim felt the tension in his body begin to ease.
“Rahim?” Sari whispered after a while.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for staying with me,” she said, her voice drowsy now as the pill began to take effect.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied softly, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed.
Her breathing slowed, and soon she was asleep, her hand still resting lightly on his. Rahim stayed awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling and grappling with the storm of emotions inside him. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for now, all he could do was make sure she felt safe.
As exhaustion finally claimed him, he drifted off beside her, their breaths falling into sync in the quiet darkness of the room.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)