CHAPTER 11 'APOLOGY & RECOVERY'

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CHAPTER 11 *Unedited

'Apology & Recovery'

I just stared at the plain white ceiling in silence trying to separate every piece of thought. My cold hands were grasped tight on the piece of paper, which lead to that one person who could maybe shine a light of hope in my dull life. 

Technically and literally I was in no relationship, Zayn was a show only, we were nothing. We were two complete strangers sharing a house and nothing more. His daughter which I once called mine probably distasted my presence after learning the truth. The thoughts cut through me like salt being vigorously rubbed on an opened and untended wound. 

I sighed and continued to look up dazing in and out of sleep. 

What felt like hours later but barely a few minutes the door slammed open and thrust into the side of the wall likely to leave a deep dent in the white polished wall. 

My eyes sprang from the boring old ceiling to a set of inky blue eyes, which I had learnt to hate. 

His eyes were unique to many but after years of seeing pure hate being shone in those blue orbs I learnt the worst feature Zayn possesses were those harsh cold stone eyes. They seem to slice you alive and the anger floating in those blue specks shone strongly.

I blinked back the tears and looked up at the ceiling once again, not ready to see those sinful orbs.

I felt him move towards me and the shadow of his tall looming figure fell over me, causing another wave of panic and distress to shoot through my tired body.

“That was a stupid move Aliyah,” He growled out and the tears fell. I let the dam go and allowed them to fall freely. I was so close to death, lying on a white hospital bed and this man just thrusts the fact that I’m stupid right in my face.

Why did I not trail behind Rizvan and begged him to take me back?

He stood silently observing my uncontrollable tears.

“I’m sorry… I was just…” He muttered, he jerked back and sat on the small plastic stool next to the foot of the bed. 

Zayn Shah apologized.

I relished in the apology, the words that left his mouth where the most sincere and honest.

“I really am sorry Aliyah, I just… I don’t know what happens to me,” He whispered and his shoulders hunched over and his eyes fell down to stare at the grim tiles.

I kept my mouth shut and trained my eyes on the ceiling not wanting to see the built up guilt and sadness, which seemed trapped in his crystal blue orbs. No amount of apology could live up to the tears that had fell from my eyes every night since the day Malika had left. 

“I know… I know you sacrificed your young carefree life to help me out, to help Zaisha out,” He sighed and his voice sounded heavy. 

He stood up and walked towards me, my heart thudded in sync to every step he took towards me.

His warm hands encased my pale hand. His touch felt heavy and wrong.

“Give me a chance?”

My heart stopped.

So many years I had waited countlessly, waited for the day Zayn would move on from Malika and accept the reality. Accept me. I would have gladly taken his hand in mine and smiled but the white paper which was crushed between my palm seemed to cut through my skin and remind me of what I had, what I should have.

He was to late. Rizvan’s return had head on brought back the feelings I had buried so deep in my heart.

“Aliyah, I know. I know I don’t deserve this. But please.” His voice was broken and scratchy. I wanted to, I really did. 

“We never knew each other before…” He cleared his voice, as the words caught up in his throat. He was right I had never made a civil conversation with Zayn when he was happily wedded to my sister. He seemed so foreign and awkward, always avoiding me or leaving me to be.

“We can be friends, get to know each other,” He whispered. His voice seemed wrong like he was forcing the words out. 

The insults and anger which was building up on the tip of my tongue disappeared as thundering steps hit my ear full on. Zaisha came running in with Mary hot on her tail. 

“Zaisha,” She shouted as Zaisha’s watery eyes met mine.

“Momma,” She sniffled as she stopped at the bed and tried pumping her small legs onto the side of the bed. My nervous eyes met Mary’s as Zayn shot her with an angry glare. 

“She really insisted on seeing Aliyah,” She shook her head in defeat and left the hospital room.

“I’m sorry,” Tears left her blue orbs as her chubby hands clutched mine tightly. She continued to push herself on to the bed but the hospital bed was much higher for her.

Zayn let out a deep irritated sigh and helped her on to the bed. I anxiously watched her every move as her big eyes continued to let out an endless stream of salty tears. 

Her arms wound around my form as she shoved her small face into the side of my neck and cried her heart out. I automatically held her and smiled as I felt her familiar scent surround me. The same scent which helped me fall into a deep empty slumber after a confrontation with Zayn. 

“Shh… hey it’s ok, don’t cry. Big girl’s don’t cry.” That stopped the tears and she shot me a small smile. 

“I was scared that because your not my real momma you would leave me, then Zaisha would be all lonely. And daddy,” She whimpered and pointed towards Zayn, who looked anywhere but at the two of us.

Her words struck another currant through me. 

The only reason for marrying Zayn was Zaisha and now it was time to big up and take him up on his offer, because a mother always places her child’s happiness ahead of hers. 

And by heart and soul I was Zaisha’s real mother.

I sniffed back the tears and smiled, determined to give Zayn a second chance.

…..

I poured coffee into the white china cup and sighed. My eyes seemed to waver between the cup and Zayn who seemed engross in the morning newspaper. Two days had floated since the day I was discharged. 

Everything was the same. He never spoke more the necessary, but shot me a warm reassuring smile once in a while or asked me about my medicine dosage. 

He played my non-existent brother.

I watched Zaisha as she concentrated on eating every crumb of bread from her plate. She was back to the same bouncy girl. 

Zayn cleared his throat and I looked up towards him. 

“Uhm… I was thinking, you know…” He stopped and shook his head and looked down at the paper.

“Do you need more coffee? I asked easing his distress of choosing the right words.

“No, I was. Actually maybe, we can you know go out for lunch?” He questioned and looked at my uneasily. 

Hope bloomed up in me and I nodded furiously letting the smile grow on my face. He was actually making an effort.

“Uhm… yeah so I’ll pick you two up at 2,” He rushed and got off from his seat shoving his long arms in the deep black blazer. 

I watched him walk out of the house and let out a scream. A full on scream. Zaisha looked up at me with crazy eyes. 

“Momma, are you scared?” She whispered as I chuckled and swept her in my arms twirling around in the large dining area. 

“No momma’s just excited. Get dressed where going out,” as she broke out in excitement and escaped my arms.

I left the dirty dishes lying on the table and skipped up the stairs smiling and letting out odd giggles. This was the first ray of happiness I had faced since leaving London. I was so close to the stars and over the moon in bliss. 

I rummaged through my drawers looking for a set of clothing but found nothing. Everything seemed so casual or too dressy. I felt unease build up in the pit of my stomach. 

Zayn really did love Malika, he fell for her looks and I was her sister. What if I looked and dressed more like Malika. Maybe that would draw him towards me. 

I skipped towards his room and pushed the door open slightly. His walls were painted a dark rich masculine brown and his sheets where done up. Everything was clean and kept in order. I opened his drawers slowly drawing in the scent of cologne and found a truck sitting in one of his drawers. 

I opened the trunk and lifted a pair of black shalvar kameez. They looked modern and edgy with the white sparkling silver lace. I smiled as I grasped the soft stretchy material in my hand and then found a pair of heavy silver dangly earrings. This was extremely dressy and maybe a little odd for the city of Vancouver but I wanted him to see Malika in me. 

Malika was the only thing now lying between the two of us and to demolish that problem I would use it against it. 

I spent time bathing and working the right amount of light makeup into my face. I dried my hair and walked towards Zaisha who was rummaging through her toy box.

“Zaisha, it’s nearly time,” Zaisha looked up from the over crowded toy box and looked at my choice of clothing. 

“You look beautiful,” She laughed as I tried chasing her to slop a wet kiss on her chubby naturally rose tinted cheeks. 

The door bell rang as soon as I finished pushing down Zaisha’s pale pink frilly frock. I smoothed back her curls and we both descended the stairs. Excitement bubbled into me as I rushed towards the door.

I opened the door as Zayn was looking down at his phone. 

“I’m sorry we can’t go,” He rushed out still staring down at the phone in deep concentration. His voice seemed off and his hands clenched tightly onto the thin black phone.

The excitement instantly died down.

His eyes snapped up towards me and he took a startling step back. His face scrunched up in confusion, the distaste. Emotions flicked through his stormy blue eyes. 

He took a huge step towards me and latched on to my wrist causing a wave of pain to flit through me. His stubby nails dug into my wrist as he held on tightly. Tears brimmed my eyes as I watched a growl of anger escape him. 

“How dare you,” He shouted as I heard Zaisha gasp behind me. 

“How could you walk into my room and take these…” he gripped on to the earing, which dangled freely from my ears, as I winced in pain. I tried pulling my ear free but only felt more pain drift into me.

“How?” He screamed and let me go. I fell backwards from the harsh push and let out a cry as I heard Zaisha running up the stairs. 

“Get them off,” He screamed out aloud. I winced at the tone and volume of his voice and nodded vigorously quickly taking the earing off with shaky hands. 

“All of them,” He growled and took another threating step towards me. I looked down at the black clothes and tears broke out. He wanted me to strip naked just for this piece of clothing. This clothing it meant so much to him. It held more value and respect than I ever did. 

Shame filled up in me.

If I could die right now I would die with a smile. Because death would be easier than living with this man.

“Now,” He screamed as I quickly threw the scarf in my neck away. His voice was so strong; for once in my life I really did fear Zayn.

His eyes were shooting daggers and the tears seemed to shamelessly fall.

As my hands went to grasp the bottom of the kameez his phone rang in the eerie silence and he growled in frustration. 

“Take them off,” He clenched out and bit out each word sharply. I nodded as he left the room and walked out of the house leaving only my heavy sobs ringing and bouncing of the walls of the huge but lonely house. 

I took off towards the stairs and shut the room to my door stripping from the clothes, which seemed to burn and scar my creamy pale skin.

I dressed up quickly and opened my door running towards his room, I slipped in and threw the clothing on the well-made bed not once putting a stop to the endless stream of tears.

My eyes caught the heavy white album, which lay carelessly on the bed. I had seen it but I was so wrapped up in the bliss and happiness of the moment that I hadn’t taken extra care or notice.

My watery eyes stared at the album. I slowly walked towards it and opened the thick album and my heart screamed and twisted into me. 

Malika, Malika, Malika.

Everywhere I looked there was a picture of Malika. Her hair floating, her deep pearly white smile, her baby bump, her wedding, her gardening, her sleeping, and endless mug shots.

It was Malika.

That’s what he did; every night when I cried myself to sleep this man would spend late hours just staring at her pictures. 

I threw the album on to the floor with as much force as possible and watched it clash with the bedside table. The lamp came crashing down and pictures scattered on to the floor.

“I hate you Malika, I fucking hate you,” I screamed out to nothing. I wanted her to hear and feel the pain the anger and aggression oozing out from my every word. I wanted her to feel the stab, the emptiness, the loneliness I felt everyday.

She had everything. Everything. Even after death god had gifted her everything. She was dead but alive in this house, alive in Zayn’s heart and she was taking my every chance at happiness away from me. He was still madly in love with her.

“I hate you. I really do Malika,” I ended with a whisper and slumped onto the floor in defeat.

Why did Allah not take me away on that night instead of Malika?

  

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First off a big thankyou for the pile of comments I received on the last chapter- YOU GUYS R THE BEST! – I read and appreciate each and everyone- seriously makes my day! 

LOVE YOU ALL xo

 

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