Beyond the game

Azra had locked herself in her room since yesterday. The heavy, suffocating silence around her was only broken by the occasional muffled sound of her sobs, a reflection of the storm swirling inside her heart. Her body felt numb, as if every part of her had shut down, as if she no longer recognized herself. It had only been hours since Jamal's phone call, but it felt like an eternity.

The betrayal cut deeper than she ever could have imagined. She had allowed herself to believe that what she had with Yuzarsif was real. She had given him her trust, her heart, opened herself to him in a way she had never done with anyone before. He had become the only man she allowed to get close to her—her confidant, her lover, the one person who made her believe in the possibility of a future.

But it had all been a lie. A game. A bet.

She stared at the ceiling of her room, eyes swollen from crying, her heart aching with every breath. How could she have been so stupid? How could she not see it? How could she have let herself fall for someone who had never taken her seriously? The thought of him, of his touch, his words, now felt tainted, disgusting, like a cruel joke at her expense. Everything that had once been precious, every moment she had cherished, was now reduced to nothing more than a bet between him and his friends.

The tears wouldn't stop. They flowed endlessly, each drop carrying the weight of her shattered heart.

Azra could feel the pain in every part of her body. It was as though her very soul had been ripped apart. She had trusted him—no, she had loved him. And in return, he had used her. The cruel realization settled deep within her chest, a suffocating pressure that wouldn't let go.

Her mind swirled in confusion. How could he have done this to her? What was wrong with her that he didn't see her worth? She had tried so hard to be open, to be vulnerable with him, and he had played her like a fool. She had believed in the tenderness he showed her, in the moments when he made her feel like she was the only woman in the world, and now it all seemed so meaningless.

The anger came next. She was furious at herself, furious at Yuzarsif, and furious at everyone who had kept her in the dark. Why hadn't anyone told her? Rahma, Jamal, even her own instincts—had they all known and said nothing? How could they have let this happen?

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, breaking her thoughts. She glanced at the screen but didn't move to answer. It was a message from Yuzarsif, a long string of texts asking her to talk to him, to forgive him, to open up. Each message felt like a slap in the face. How dare he try to explain now? Did he think a few words could erase the damage he had done?

She couldn't bear to look at them anymore. She grabbed the phone, her fingers shaking, and tossed it aside. It was all too much. All too painful.

The knock on the door broke her thoughts. Azra didn't want to talk to anyone. She didn't want to face the world, didn't want to pretend that everything was fine. The last thing she wanted was to listen to anyone's empty words. Not now. Not after everything.

"Azra," Rahma's voice called softly from the other side of the door. "Azra, please open the door. We need to talk."

Azra closed her eyes, pressing her back into the cold wall behind her. She couldn't do it. She couldn't face Rahma, couldn't face anyone. Her heart was too raw, too fragile to be exposed again.

"Azra, please," Rahma's voice grew more desperate. "I know you're hurting. I know you're angry, but you can't keep locking yourself away like this. Let me in, please. Let's talk."

Azra pressed her hands to her ears, willing the sound of Rahma's voice to stop. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want anyone to see the wreckage inside her. She didn't want anyone to know how much she had been shattered, how deep the wound ran.

She stood up and walked to the door, placing her hand on the handle. For a moment, she stood still, as if debating whether to let Rahma in. But the thought of facing anyone, of facing the reality of what had happened, was too much. She couldn't. Not yet.

With a sharp breath, Azra whispered, "Go away, Rahma. Please. Just leave me alone."

There was a long silence from the other side of the door. Rahma didn't speak. Azra could imagine her standing there, probably hurt, probably confused, but Azra didn't care. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing her like this, broken and vulnerable.

"Azra…" Rahma's voice cracked. "I'm here for you, okay? Just… just talk to me. I'm not going anywhere."

Azra felt her heart break a little more at the sound of Rahma's concern, but she couldn't bring herself to respond. Not now. Not when she was drowning in so much pain. She pressed her forehead against the door, feeling the cool surface against her skin as she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Rahma," Azra whispered, barely audible. "I just can't."

She sank down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, tears streaming down her face again. Her world had fallen apart, and she didn't know how to pick up the pieces.

Rahma remained silent for a moment longer before Azra heard her footsteps retreat down the hallway. Azra didn't know if she was relieved or devastated. She just wanted the world to go away.

In the solitude of her room, Azra let herself cry. The pain in her chest was unbearable, but at least it was something real. Something she could hold onto, even if it was the only thing left.

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