CHAPTER 15 *Unedited

‘New York’

“The flights at around 5,” I whispered into the phone, facing a stretch of silence.

“I could come with you,”

 “No!” I shouted as the hair at the nape of my neck stood up. I shivered thinking of the fire that would rage when my father and mother saw me beside Rizvan Ali, the man they chased away with a bunch of foul lies. 

Rizvan couldn’t come.

“We just met,” His voice came out slow and deep through the line. 

“I know it’s for only a week. I just have to show up, show some love for his father, sit through a ceremony and leave.” I said softly convincing myself that that’s all that’s required from me. But deep inside I knew there was a slight chance that things could get harsh or take a turn for the worst. Because where Aliyah Shah was concerned nothing ever went smoothly. 

“Ok, take care and I swear if you don’t show up in a weeks time I will fly there myself and no one will be there stopping me,” Rizvan’s voice was firm and I gulped thinking where this was leading to. 

He had only taken us out for lunch, nothing more. No midnight dinners amongst candles in fancy restaurants. I had called only to let him know that I was leaving, that’s the least I owned him. I couldn’t leave him stranded again, wondering and worrying where I had disappeared.

My heart knew that this thing between us had to end before it started. 

I had to break Rizvan’s heart again and this would be the last time. He had to let go of the past. 

…..

I rolled my suitcase slowly dragging my eyes through the crowd of people stood in front of arrival.

I was in New York.

The realization made my stomach clench and lurch as I felt a wave of sickness and nausea pass through me. I gripped Zaisha’s hand tightly keeping her close to my body and dodging the reunions taking place. 

My heart froze as Zaisha screamed daddy and ran towards him.

He was smiling, clean-shaven and wore a crisp charcoal black suit. His hair was soft and his icy blue eyes locked on to mine as he held tightly onto Zaisha and made his way towards my frozen body. 

We felt like the only ones in the roaring airport.

“Aliyah,” He whispered his arms snaked around my waist spiking my fear and he pulled me towards him in an attempt to hug my rigid body. 

“How are you,” He whispered as his eye locked on to mine once again.

My throat was clogged up. How could this man who humiliated me a week ago causally ask me about my well being. He never uttered a word more than necessary.

Never touched me. It’s as if my image repulsed him.

Zayn broke away from me as my father old figure surrounded me, he hugged me tightly and I fought back the tears. The numerous times I had missed him. He was suppose to be the over protective father, but I had kept him at a length still blaming him for my state.

He could have pulled me back and told me not to sacrifice my life.

“How are you?” He whispered smoothing down my hair and looking at me adoringly. I would have died for that affection before Malika, but now I felt nothing.

No wonder Zayn was feeling all warm, he had to pull off a show for my father.

“I’m ok,” I whispered and pulled the suitcase alongside me as we left the airport trailing behind the two men.

The ride home was filled with my father and Zayn conversing about a new business they wanted to start. I sat quietly at the back often catching Zayn’s icy blue orbs wavering between me and the road through the front mirror. 

He probably felt sorry. 

He could turn around and stuff that sense of sorry up his sore bottom and leave me the hell alone.

My thoughts were violent as Zaisha kept bouncing on her seat and asking her grandfather about New York. She adored the brilliant city life and the tourist rush. 

I watched the car roll into the driveway. The house was still the same, white brick with a dark royal blue door. The front garden was lined by a small crumbling wooden fence, which had seen better days. Tears threaded my eyes as I remembered Malika chasing me around the garden. Small drawings were marked on the fence where we would use a needle to engrave out initials into the hard wood.

“Aliyah,” My mother whispered as she stepped out of the door and took me into her arms. I kept my arms beside me feeling no connection towards my mother, the one to bring me into this world.

I should have screamed at her, pushed her away but I stayed quite allowing her to flutter around me.

“Come on I’ll take your suitcase,” Zayn stated breaking my mother away from me.

“Yes, get some rest dear,” My father said happily, as I answered him with a small smile and trailed behind Zayn. I didn’t have the heart to hurdle any abuse at my parents, what was done was done. Nothing could be changed.

The house was the same nothing changed. The same cream carpets worn and slightly grey from the dirt, pictures lining the lounge most of Malika. All the frames which once carried pictures of me where replaced with pictures of Malika. She was dead but alive, she was dead but had my parent’s affection and pride, she was dead but still the only woman Zayn Shah would every love.

 She was dead, but worth more than me.

 It hurt.

 I looked at Zayn as he kept his eyes on the stairs not once looking towards the laughing images, which proudly stood against the walls. Laughing images of his wife, the same wife he mourned. It was a surprise to see him walk by without a second glance.

 He opened the door to my old room and the tears fell.

The room was still lilac and cream. My double bed vacant but teddy’s sat on the top of my wardrobe with a layer of dust. The vanity table was lonely with old bottle of perfumes and a large picture stood in the middle of the wall of Malika and me.

 I had to remove that image it was burning me. Reminding me that no matter what reason I sought out to hate her, inside I loved her.

 My heart stopped as my gaze from the picture fell to Zayn. Both his arms wrapped around me and his head leaned on my shoulder. His front against my back causing me to gasp at the feeling, it was so foreign and wrong. Nothing like the way Rizvan felt.

 “I want to take you out tonight, to meet my old friends,” He said softly.

 I pushed away from him. Did this man grow more heads or did he trip on the stairs and cracked his sad skull.

 He scowled at the distance.

 “What is wrong with you Zayn?” I whispered staring at him wide eyed.

 “What do you mean?”

 “Why are you getting all touchy,” I stated firmly watching anger boil up in those blue orbs.

 “God damn. You wanted me to make an effort. I am,” He growled, but stopped short when he caught me retreating.

 “I’m sorry,” He breathed out pinching his nose.

 “You don’t have to,” I said softly.

 I was crazy, stupid. Every abusive word created in the history of English language should apply to me. What was I doing? I wanted this all along; I wanted him to accept me and by some miracle he was.

 “I want to. Be ready,” He said and left me in the room.

 Why did fate decide to push Rizvan back into my life? Why?

 Something was wrong. Something big had gone down. After 5 years Zayn couldn’t want to start a life with me. That too in New York, where his and Malika’s memories where most alive.

 I dressed up in a decent shalwar kameez discarding the sweatpants and wildcats sweater I had worn for the long flight. Zaisha’s laughter rang through the house as my grandparents showered her in attention and love. She seemed to have forgotten me. Children were so gullible, so easy to please and waver.

 I stopped at the wall of photos glaring at the small photo of Zayn and me sat on the couch on the day of our Nikah. It was a nightmare. He looked empty, thin and had a far away look.

 I heard a crash of glass and cursing and looked at the closed guestroom door.

 I softly moved towards the door and pushed it wide open staring into a pair of icy blue eyes that seemed to haunt me day and night. A color I was now beginning to hate.

 Uncle Shah.

 I whispered a greeting and moved in. He was resting on the bed, thin and worn out. His once jet-black hair had greyed and lost its natural shine. His squared shoulders now slack and his eyes soft and watery.

 “Daughter,” he whispered beckoning me towards him.

 I really hated this man, but I couldn’t feel it in me to let him be. He may have pushed me into the life I lived now, but this man was ill.

 I felt his thin wire like fingers clasp my hand loosely. His skin cold and pale. His smile was false and his eyes shone with warmth melting me inside out.

 “What happened,” I whispered. Before I had left he was a fit man, healthy and alive boiling with anger and full of arrogance.

 “I’m ill,” He wheezed out.

 “You’ll be fine,” I forced the words out for once meaning them from the bottom of my heart.

 “I know…” He paused breathing in.

 About what?

 “I know the troubles you have faced my daughter. But now…”

 “Uncle Shah I’m fine,” My eyes wandered towards his hand, which tightened around mine. I didn’t need sympathy or someone to spill my fears and worries to, especially not a man who had manipulated me into this relationship.

 “You don’t need this cover this up anymore,” He said softly causing confusion.

 This man had lost all his senses.

 “I asked Zayn. I asked him to accept you. This was my last wish, my last request.” He breathed loosening his thin fingers and slumping against the double-stacked cushions.

 “What?” I gasped. This whole new face Zayn had worn was forced upon him by his father, a replicate of when he was forced into a relationship with me.

 “Have you not done enough damage?” I growled moving back from his dull gaze.

 “I want to fix things before I leave. I want to die in peace,” His words hit heart and I gulped down setting my eyes on the floor in shame.

 “You don’t need to,” I whispered. My blessings would always remain with him, no matter how much hate I had gathered together over the years.

 “I want to. I sent him to Malika’s grave.” I looked up shocked. This was the first time in years Zayn had set foot at Malika’s grave.

 “When a man looses someone he loves he can never let her go my dear. I myself hurt till 3 years after his mother’s death. I visited her grave and spoke my true feelings, gave her my final blessings and words before promising to never look back, to let her go and move on. But the love and devotion I had for her I put into raising my children,” He whispered, bringing tears to my eyes.

 His eyes screamed the buried love and pain he had always managed to cover up around people. He placed a strong façade in front of others. But inside every solid human is a story, is a truth.

 “He wants to move on now, not because I spoke my emotions to him, not because I want him to move on. It’s because he realizes how much of your life you have devoted to him and his daughter. He wants to take it slow, please for my sake allow him in,” he said and gave me a small smile.

 “He told me. He told me he feels guilty for shouting at you for spilling his anger upon you. He told me that he see’s Malika in you, you remind him of Malika the way you care for him and it angers him to know that you can’t ever be Malika. He’s troubled my dear, he wants to give you a life be the right husband, but something just turns out wrong,” He said softly.

 “I don’t know…” I whispered.

 “Is it him?”

My eyes rapidly blinked at the words, which left his mouth.

 “Rizvan Ali. The man who chased you all the way to New York,” He said keeping his blue gaze on my frozen frame.

 “I…” 

“I know, but he left your life 5 years ago. I chased him away,” he laughed bracing himself.

You never chased him away because he’s back.

“You both lost someone 5 years ago and it’s time. Time to let go and embrace each other,” He said firmly.

“We may have talked you into this, but you had something in your mind. Something stubborn, which you yourself forced your hands to sign that paper and accept this fate,”

“Promise me Aliyah, promise me you will complete your Nikah by all means before I’m gone,” He whispered, his intense eyes boring into me, reading me inside out. Reading the hesitance in my form. 

“I…” 

The door swung open and Zayn walked in smiling at his father with Zaisha bouncing behind him. She jumped up at the sight of me and rushed forward knocking me in the seat.

“Momma why can’t I go?” 

“Where…?” I asked embracing her in my arm and caught Zayn conversing with his father, his warm gaze wondering towards Zaisha and me.

Zayn walked towards me his arms circling around Zaisha; I pulled back from his touch and closeness and stared down at the floor. Glaring at the worn carpet.

“You stay with grandpa and I’ll take your mummy out,” He whispered to her and shone me a warm smile, causing a shiver to break out.

This was wrong, everything that’s happening is wrong.

I didn’t ask for this.

I knew coming to New York was bad. Guess another regret to add to the list.

___________________________

NOTE III

 WE HIT 5000 READS AND I AM OVER THE MOON! – so in celebration I wrote up this extra long chapter for you all xo

 + It’s sweet that all my new found readers want to know more about me/ the story and inboxed/ wrote on my page some Q’s

Are you Indian?

No

Is the story meant to be Indian?

No, I’m not very familiar with Indian culture.

Is this a copy of some Indian drama or film?

No, as far as I’m aware. I don’t watch Indian/Bollywood films or dramas at all.

You don’t mention much of Islam in here?

It’s a romance, if your looking for more religious aspects in the story your in the wrong place.

Is there anyway I can fan, or you will post links to exclusive chapters or previews?

I don’t think this story is big enough for exclusive chapters or previews

How old are you?

17 

Where do you live?

England

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Promise this is the last long ass NOTES I’ll be posting!