25. Meiko

Isit hunched on the couch, exhaustion seeping into my bones. A brisk knock precedes Mustaf"s mother sweeping into the room. She surveys my worn state with her typical mix of orcish bluntness and maternal care.

"Meiko, you must eat and rest properly," she admonishes. "You cannot let yourself waste away, not with my grandchild depending on you."

I look down at my lap. "I"m trying, but it"s so hard not knowing if Mustaf..." My voice hitches with a sob.

She places a sturdy hand on my shoulder. "You underestimate my son"s strength. He'll come back to you, have faith." Her voice softens. "And know you are not alone in this."

I clutch her hand, taking comfort in its solid warmth. "Thank you," I whisper. "I just feel so helpless, sitting here waiting."

"I understand, child," she says gently. "But we'll find him. The search parties are working tirelessly."

I nod, blinking back tears. "Has there been any news at all?"

She hesitates before answering. "They located the site of the avalanche. It was… extensive. But we must keep hope alive that Mustaf survived."

My heart constricts at her words. I know she"s being realistic yet kind.

"Try to eat something," she urges. "And get what rest you can. You need your strength now." She squeezes my shoulder and takes her leave.

Alone again, I bury my face in my hands. But her steadfast faith in her son helps shore up my shaken spirit. I must believe Mustaf will defy the odds and come back to us.

Soon after, my mother arrives with a light meal, urging me to eat the same way Elora did. As we talk, I break down and confess everything regarding our sham engagement turned real. She embraces me tightly.

"We will get through this together, as a family," she vows. Her unconditional love and wisdom are a balm to my weary soul.

"You must eat, darling," she urges gently. "Here, I"ve made your favorite soup."

I manage a few spoonfuls before the tears I"ve been holding back spill over. "I"m trying to be strong but it"s so hard, Mom. I love him so much and I can"t lose him..."

She immediately wraps me in a fierce embrace. "Shhh, just let it out." She rocks me as I sob into her shoulder.

Finally, the wave of grief passes. "You must think I"m foolish, crying over a sham engagement."

My mother pulls back to look me in the eye. "No, darling, not at all. I can see how real your love for him is now."

I cling to her, the words rushing out in a flood. "At first we were just pretending, but then it turned into something more. Something profound."

She strokes my hair soothingly. "The heart wants what it wants, regardless of plans."

"You"re the first person I"ve told the full truth to," I confess. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"There"s nothing to forgive," she says firmly. "All I want is your happiness. And Mustaf clearly brings you joy."

Relief crashes over me at her acceptance. We sit talking late into the night, her wisdom and empathy finally giving me a little ease in the midst of my turmoil.

In the days that follow, our families bond together in tireless vigilance, awaiting word of Mustaf. With my mother"s love surrounding me, I find the strength to maintain hope even as each hour without news chips away at my resolve.

My mother"s unconditional love and support are a lifeline, helping me withstand the crushing uncertainty of Mustaf"s disappearance. In the days that follow, I cling to her words of wisdom and empathy.

But as one endless day bleeds into the next with no word, a creeping depression threatens to pull me under. I can scarcely drag myself from bed, let alone eat or take care of my own basic needs. The mere thought of the future without Mustaf is too agonizing to contemplate.

The suddenness of it all is the hardest part to bear. Our kiss was an unknowing farewell forever, a cruel tease and an empty promise to what could have been.

In my darkest moments, my mother arrives like a ray of light. She gently coaxes me up, makes me simple meals, and sits with me while I pick at the food. On bad nights when I can"t sleep, she stays up talking with me until exhaustion finally sets in. Her tranquil presence helps hold the demons at bay.

Mustaf"s mother visits often, too, her gruff affection and implacable faith in her son"s resilience tempering my hopelessness. She urges me to keep up my strength with basic tasks and self-care. Between both mothers" doting vigilance, I endure from one day to the next.

When my despair threatens to consume me, they gently steer me back from the brink. Their wisdom, empathy, and sheer stubbornness refuse to let me surrender to the darkness. Thanks to their tireless support, I withstand the brutal wait armed with fragile hope and hard-won determination.

The wait has been endless. Five agonizing days and nights since Mustaf disappeared on the mountain. My world narrows to a single, desperate hope that somehow, searchers will find him alive.

Until this morning, when a sudden commotion erupts outside. I freeze, pulse hammering, then nearly collapse as the shouts pierce my heart.

"They"ve found him!"

Joy surges through me, dizzying in its intensity. I grasp my mother, laughing and crying together. By some miracle, searchers located Mustaf, battered but alive. Against all odds, he clung to life through the long nights, waiting for rescue.

I learn that he's already been taken to a nearby hospital, and all I can think about is getting to his side as soon as possible. I can scarcely contain my excitement and anxiety as I bustle around the villa, hurrying to get ready.

"Think he's really okay, Mom?" I ask for the tenth time, needing reassurance.

She squeezes my hand. "He's a strong man. Don"t worry, darling."

I take a deep breath, willing my nerves to settle. I"ve missed Mustaf so much I ache with it. The thought of holding him again makes me giddy.

After an anxious ride over with both our mothers, we arrive at the hospital. I"m through the doors in a flash, racing down the halls to Mustaf"s room. I burst in, heart hammering wildly, and there he is – battered and weary but alive and smiling at the sight of me.

The grief-turned-joy propels me forward, launching me like an arrow from a bow as I throw myself into his arms.

I relish his solid warmth, breathing in his scent. The gnawing pain of our separation fades with each moment as we hold each other close once more. We are together against all odds, never to be parted so cruelly again.