Liberated to lose herself in books, ideas, and the quiet rhythm of a single woman’s life.
She gathered a few titles from the shelves: ancient poems, a fiction edition, and a volume of philosophy, and curled up on the worn couch, its softness enveloping her.
Within moments, she was lost, immersed in another, where words stitched a balm across the restless cracks in her soul.
Saba must have fallen asleep, for hours had passed when she opened her eyes, the tall clock in the library confirming the time.
She left the repository, a pile of books in her bag, and headed back to Deck 27.
When the elevator doors slid apart, the sun was dipping below the faux horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the gardens.
Still reluctant to return to the lodge, she slowed her walk.
The vibrant colors of the blooms and the gentle rustle of the leaves provided a welcome distraction.
From the simmering tension inside her, as well as the strain between her and Mak.
The winding pathways took her around the lake again, and she mulled over her reality.
The fact was, Mak was a stubborn man, and he continued to ignore her.
His silence was deafening, a constant reminder of the chasm that separated them.
She longed to bridge that gap, to find a way to connect with him beyond the confines of their arranged marriage because the alternative was unbearable.
How would she survive a lifetime with him if it meant living in incessant discord?
Why did she have to suffer for her sisters’ freedom?
Why was she the one whose youth and years were being wasted?
The future loomed empty before her, and with a sob, she nearly sank to the ground, unable to bear the thought. But she stumbled on, blinking away her tears.
Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn’t detect the figure standing at the edge of the small beachhead behind their lodge, hidden by the shrubbery and trees.
As her eyes took in the silhouette, illuminated by the soft glow of the rising moon, she froze.
Mak.
A brooding version of him.
It was the only variation she had ever encountered.
His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he stared into the night.
His profile, turned away from her, was inscrutable.
Dusk cast a halo around his form, making him seem like an ethereal specter.
Saba took a shaky breath and emerged from the shadows, stepping toward him.
He flinched, and his jaw clenched, but he didn’t acknowledge her.
For a long moment, they stood still, the unspoken words hanging heavy, the distance between them palpable.
His gaze was fixed on the horizon, as if searching for a sentiment beyond reach.
Saba didn’t say a word, unsure of what to say, eyes on him, the silence stretching.
