The night felt longer than usual.
Aira sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the dim glow of her phone screen lighting up the dark room every few minutes as she checked the time.
11:47 PM.
Muneeb still wasn't home.
She shouldn't be worried. He was a grown man, fully capable of handling himself. He had been coming home late ever since their marriage—business meetings, clients, whatever it was he did.
But tonight felt… different.
She told herself it was just her mind playing tricks on her.
She told herself she wasn't actually concerned.
And yet—
She had left the light on.
She had never done that before.
Aira sighed, throwing the blanket off her as she sat up. Why do I care?
But no matter how much she tried to reason with herself, the unease wouldn't go away.
She found herself pacing near the window, arms crossed. Every sound from outside made her ears perk up, only for her to realize it wasn't him.
The clock ticked on.
12:30 AM.
Aira frowned, her grip tightening on her arms.
This was stupid.
He doesn't even tell me when he'll be late. He probably doesn't even think about it.
She grabbed her phone, debating whether she should call him.
But before she could decide, the sound of a car engine outside made her head snap up.
Seconds later, the front door opened.
Aira rushed back to the bed and threw the blanket over herself, pretending to sleep.
She heard his footsteps approaching. The door creaked open, and she felt his presence in the room.
Silence.
She resisted the urge to peek.
Then—
A soft chuckle.
Aira's brows twitched. What is he laughing at?
Muneeb sighed, and she heard him move across the room, the rustling of fabric as he changed.
Then, just as she thought he would settle onto the couch like always—
A soft thud.
Aira felt the mattress dip slightly.
Her breath caught.
He's sitting on the bed?
Her heartbeat picked up, but she remained still, forcing herself to breathe evenly.
After a moment, she heard his voice—low, amused.
"You're a terrible actress, you know."
Aira's eyes shot open, and she turned her head just enough to glare at him. "What?"
Muneeb smirked, arms resting on his knees as he looked at her. "You're pretending to be asleep, but you're gripping the blanket like you're about to punch me."
Aira immediately loosened her hold. "I was not pretending!"
He raised a brow. "Oh? Then why were you waiting for me?"
Her face heated. "I—I wasn't!"
Muneeb leaned slightly closer, his smirk widening. "Then why are you still awake?"
Aira clenched her jaw, sitting up in frustration. "Because some people don't have the decency to inform their wives when they're coming home late!"
Muneeb blinked. Then, slowly, his expression changed—his smirk softened, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
Aira realized what she had just said.
She had just admitted she was waiting for him.
Her mouth opened to take it back, to make some excuse, but before she could—
He smiled.
Not his usual teasing smirk.
A real smile. Small, quiet, but warm.
Aira felt her heart skip.
"You were worried about me." His voice was softer this time.
Aira turned away, refusing to meet his gaze. "I wasn't."
Muneeb chuckled. "Liar."
She glared at him. "Fine. Next time, I'll sleep peacefully and let you get kidnapped or something."
Muneeb grinned. "That's fine. I just needed to confirm something."
Aira frowned. "Confirm what?"
Muneeb leaned back, making himself comfortable on the couch. "That I'm living rent-free in your head now."
Aira grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him.
Muneeb laughed.
And despite her frustration, Aira found herself smiling, too.