With the house empty, Yugh worked the lock on the trunk. His objective was clear: read further, find a clue. Three pages were torn from the middle, but the remaining entries might still reveal something. The diary stopped in July 2022. š
22 July 2022
The weather is perfect today, so gentle. I asked Yugh to come to the soul music festival with me this evening, but he said he's too busy with work. It might be true, but even if he came, he wouldn't enjoy it. Our tastes are diverging. I'm going alone today. Or rather, I'm going with him.
Yugh froze, his mind snagging on the word. Him. Who was 'him'? As he sat pondering this new, chilling pronoun, a sound pierced his concentration; the front doorbell. š
He was alone. With a frustrated sigh, he closed the diary, locked it back in the trunk, hid the key, and went to answer.
Opening the door, he was met not by a neighbor or deliveryman, but by Anisa, standing on his porch with a determined weariness. š
"Youā¦ What are you doing here?" Yugh's voice was sharp with rising anger. "First, your husband is found dead with my wife, and now you come to harass me?"
"Was it only my husband's fault?" Anisa shot back, her own pain giving her a steely edge. "Or have you forgotten the photo of your wife with my husband at the market? Framed on the notice board under 'Couple Competition Winners'? She was smiling quite brightly in that one." š°
Yugh's jaw tightened. "Fine. Why are you here? How did you even find this address?"
"I learned what town you were from at the hospital the day of the accident. I just asked someone on this street where the family of 'Yugh, whose wife died in the crash' lived. They were veryā¦ informative." š
"What do you want from me?" Yugh demanded, his voice hard.
"I came to tell you something," Anisa said, her gaze unwavering. "I believeā¦ no, I know there was something between my husband and your wife. They didn't just die together; they were together. And it wasn't just that. My husband bought your wife an expensive sapphire ring. I only found out recently." š
The words hit Yugh like a physical blow. His face flushed a deep, dangerous red. He had clung blindly to his faith in Zahra, a faith that felt like his last tether to sanity. Hearing this accusation, this evidence, from a stranger's mouth was an intolerable violation.
"Who are you to say such things about my wife?" he roared, his composure shattering. "Your husband was probably the one chasing women, and now you're dragging my Zahra's name into it? Don't you dare make her the villain in your story! Get out! Get off my property!" š
His voice echoed in the quiet street, a raw outburst of grief, denial, and a fury meant for a world that had taken everything and now sought to tarnish the memories he had left. šŖ