CHAPTER 16 *Unedited

‘Date Gone Wrong’

I sat in Malika’s old bedroom fingering the dusty pink silk covers and watched the endless stream of pictures plastered to the cracked walls. Nothing had changed; no clothing was thrown out, even the curtains where the same odd shade of pink Malika adored.

It hurt to see her memories real and alive, her clothing all hung in the wardrobe surrounded by their faint feminine scent, which was still present. 

I was dressed and ready to go out where ever Zayn had planned, but deep down in my core I didn’t want this. I didn’t want him to make any effort with me.

I could blame Malika for everything, but she was my everything. My family, my first ever-best friend who had fought for me. 

“Dad, please this is what I want,” I cried feeling the tears escape my eyes.

“It’s too far,” He snapped at me, anger blazing upon his deep brown orbs scaring me to the core.

“Dad, please, you just don’t understand. I worked so hard to secure my place in this university, don’t do this. Please,” I whispered, feeling my mother hover over my father. 

“Aliyah, go inside,” She shot me a disappointed look and huddled towards my father with a glass of water trying to sooth his stress but avoiding my presence.

“No, please just listen,” I was loosing all hope, all will.

“What the hell is wrong with you Aliyah? You’re leaving the universities of New York for some university in London?” He growled out, irony lacing his words.

Maybe I wanted to set foot out of New York to experience life outside the cover of my parents. I wanted to be alone, independent and taste a slice of freedom. 

“Why can’t you be like your older sister,” My father shouted rising from the large armchair.

“Because I don’t, I don’t want to get married into some shitty arranged marriage. Why can’t you change your mentality? This is New York, people think differently now.” I screamed.

I saw the plain anger written on his face, before his palm raised and Malika stepped in taking the blow, which was aimed for me.

All hell fell loose. 

My father’s face was shocked; he took her into his trembling arms and consoled his precious daughter while I felt the tears break free.

“Dad, I’m fine,” Malika spoke over his burbling sorry and his tight arms, which encased her in his warmth. The warmth the love I was never given, because I wasn’t the perfect little daughter every parent dreams of.

I was the rebel, the one with big dreams.

“Let her go, let her prove her worth. She’s worked so hard for this and she’s capable papa she really she is,” Malika smothered him with honey coated words.

“I can’t let her go,” 

“Dad give her this opportunity, she’s my sister I know she’ll do us all proud,” She said shooting me a small smile.

She had dragged me one step closer to my dreams and I was indebted to her. Maybe she soaked up all my father’s love and fondness but she was there for me, when I needed her.

I rubbed the tears that had flown through and pushed myself of the soft mattress worn with age and headed towards the door. 

I felt his presence before I pulled open the door. He wore a plain white t-shirt with dark blue washed denim jeans. My mouth hung open at his attire and I stared shamelessly at him in utter disbelief. This man always stuck to the crisp clean suits and smoothed down sleek hair when he wasn’t grieving over his first dead wife.

“You ready to go.” I gulped back the no, which seemed hilted at my tongue and the urge to slam the door shut on his innocent face.

I nodded and silently fell behind him.

“We should take Zaisha,” I said breaking the silence as he pushed open the front door and held it open for me. 

“This day is for me and you only Aliyah,” He said and his gaze held mine. 

I wanted to roll my eyes at his words. This wasn’t the Zayn I was used to. I disliked this new man; I’d rather deal with the cold Zayn, where I could predict what would spill out of his mouth. He seemed far to foreign to caring and gentle.

“Where are we going?” 

“I thought I would take you out to meet some of my old friends, but father reminded me that this day is for us only,” He said holding the door to his car open for me. 

“I can open my own doors,” I scowled settling into the Range Rover’s plush leather seats and letting him slam the door close at the choice of my words.

He settled in and twisted the key to the engine reversing the sleek car out of the small drive way.

“You doing this for your father?” I said keeping my eyes on the road and avoiding his stare.

“I’m doing this for myself,” He said after a short pause and changing gears smoothly.

“You could have done that 4 years or even a year ago, but why now? Why now?” I repeated emphasizing each word. I felt his free hand move from the gear to touch my hand, which lay frozen on my lap.

“I realized now Aliyah,” He whispered and I nudged his hand away wanting to slap some sense in him, to shake his thick brain and ask him to leave me the heck alone.

His hands returned to the wheel and clenched tightly showing the whites in his knuckles. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” He stated sharply.

“Maybe years back Zayn. But now… I don’t want you anymore,” I bit out and turned to look out the window watching the trees roll by.

“What has changed Aliyah?” He shouted shocking me to the core; I could feel his burning glare on me.

“I…”

“You still love him don’t you?”

My eyes snapped to his burning glare. This was the second time the same question was thrown my way.

I gulped back the yes and nodded my head in disagreement furiously. 

“You love that bastard,” He stated, I felt the car speeding up and his anger raising.

“And you still love Malika,”

“We were married,” He growled. 

“And we were about to marry,” I growled back meeting his glare face on. He turned towards the road and parked on the side of the street punching the steering wheel and making me wince in my seat from the impact of his fist on the wheel. I felt more worry for the wheel than the man who’s fist drove into it.

“Take me home please,” I whispered feeling the tears. Zayn Shah scared me; he rocked me to my core in the most unromantic aspect. His mood swings freaked me out. 

He turned towards me red veins circling his blue orbs.

“You know what Aliyah, you’re legally and lawfully married to me. And I have now decided that we will make this marriage work,” He said sharply keeping his intense gaze on me.

“With or without force,” He spit out and turned his glare to the silent road. 

“What if I don’t want to?” 

“You will,” He said ending the conversation and bringing another fresh round of tears, which wanted to break free.

……

We never arrived at the initial destination Zayn or may I stress his father had planned out for us. He took a straight U-turn and drove us home in pitch silence.

I sat in my bedroom wiping away the tears, which seemed to fall. Year’s back my parents had forced me to obey the alliance set between me and Zayn and now few years on Zayn himself was forcing this alliance upon us.

My thoughts where shattered when my phone vibrated on the side table and my heart raced at the name. 

Rizvan. 

Zayn wanted to make this work and I had no choice. Why is it that the woman is always given the limited choices? Why is it that the man decides if he wants to stick to the marriage or divorce her? Why is the woman always put to shame but the man walks out free and ready to select any woman of his choice?

Simple put why am I less favored in this marriage?

I picked up the phone wincing.

“Don’t call me again, do you understand? Don’t call me Rizvan I am a married woman and a mother, please.” I shouted down the line letting the anger out. I left the sweet greetings out and shot straight to the point. I wanted him to hate me, to leave me alone and pick someone more worthy more loving than me, some with fewer flaws than me. 

“What is wrong with you?” He said after a short pause as I gulped back the spilling tears.

“You! Rizvan you’re what’s wrong with me. I wish you never returned into my life.” I screamed.

You brought back the love I had buried. Gave life to the feelings I had and have for you.

“You’re a selfish woman Aliyah.” I heard him whisper before the line went dead. 

What have I done? God what have I done? I’m stuck between two men, left to decide.

I wiped away the tears as the door softly opened and Zayn walked in. He shot me a small smile and walked towards the bedside table carefully undoing his watch and placing it on the table alongside his sleek phone.

I watched him carefully, narrowing my eyes at his lazy movements, almost as if he was at home and at ease rolling around his own personal space instead of invading mine.

“What are you doing?” My voice was hoarse and still clogged up from the rush of tears.

“What do you think?”

“This is my room Zayn,” I bit out, loosing every ounce of patience to deal with this bi-polar man.

“And mine,” He stated walking toward the suitcases which lied at the foot of the table. 

“Zayn, please… please just stop,” I whispered flinging my head back and closing my eyes not wanting to face him.

“We have to share this room,” My eyes snapped open and I stared at him in shock.

“Were married. My father is a room away and your parents are downstairs. Questions would rise if I walked out with a pillow,” He said casually and pulled out red shorts from his suitcase and walked out to attend to the bathroom.

I sat up abruptly as the door swung shut.

I couldn’t share a room let alone a bed. It was wrong. I couldn’t do this to Rizvan. I felt the nausea wash over me and burn my insides.

The door swung open and Zayn strode in and plain red shorts lacking a shirt and showing his upper muscular body. I didn’t swoon at the defined contours of his built body but instead felt the urge to puke out my guts because this was wrong. I wasn’t a teenage girl facing an image of a shirtless celebrity on a magazine.

I was facing my sisters husband shirtless and about to stay in the same room as me overnight.

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When I said an early Update- I meant one!

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