CHAPTER 9 *Unedited

'Rejection'

My body shook as my eyes watered. My body and my dull brown eyes were evolved to the tears. Tears were like an organ, something I couldn’t live without, and some thing my body couldn’t function without. 

He hurt me for so long and so much, but I couldn’t scar Zaisha’s mind, I couldn’t blow the words of anger upon her. Her fragile mind wouldn’t bear the pain the hate between her so call parents.

I looked down at Zaisha, as I internally cowered from Zayn’s icy blue eyes, which seemed to shoot daggers at my form. 

“Go upstairs, momma will come up as soon as she’s finished talking,” I said softly and nudged her towards the dining room door.

“Go find Mary,” She nodded without question and ran out of the room with her puffy red eyes bleeding wet tears which ripped at my heart.

My eyes return to his icy blue orbs. His hands were fisted.

“I said we were not done talking.” He growled at me closing the distance between us.

“Talk, I’m listening,” I shot him a glare.

“I wanted this talk in front of my daughter.”

 “Daughter?” The room filled with my dry laughter as my wet eyes locked on to his.

“What daughter Zayn, which daughter? In these five years name me one thing you’ve done for her,” I screamed. I had to let this out. 

“Don’t mock me. You’re in no position to speak and I’m your husband, lower your voice.” His voice shook and rose with every word.

Don’t play the respect card on me Zayn. Respect, my ass.

“You’re my husband? Zayn really. This marriage is fake, it’s all show, and you’ve never looked at me, never touched me and never spoken to me. Forget the husband act you couldn’t even help me or never even tried approaching me when I had a small child, which wasn’t even mine on my hands.” I screamed.

His body shook with raw intensity and shock from my words. 

“You think you lost everything? Zayn you never lost, you gained. After Malika’s death you had Zaisha, a walking reminder of her. But what did I gain from her death Zayn? Nothing, I… I always wanted a degree in psychology. I had a life before you. A life with friends, a normal life. This house, these four walls I see everyday I talk to are driving me mad.” My voice shook as my emotions let loose.

He stood still feeding from the words, which escaped my trapped and troubled mind.

“I’m so lonely Zayn, so lonely. I … Heck before you, before Malika’s death I had everything. I even had a man I loved, a man who would sell the world just for an inch of m happiness.” 

“But I left him, left him for you and your daughter…” The volume from my voice drained as tears slipped. 

He stood frozen, his eyes emotionless.

“You… you… he loved you?” His voice shook as he processed my words. 

“He loved me so much,” I gasped out as the pain once again filled my heart. I tried so hard to forget him, pushed the memories out. But he was there every night in my dreams expressing his love. 

Maybe unlike me today he’s a married man with many kids. A successful man.

“I…” His mouth hung open, and his eyes screamed with guilt as his hand fisted into his hair.

“Don’t Zayn. You’re not sorry. Your not sorry for wasting five years of my life.” I whispered as I moved away from him and headed towards the door.

I turned towards him, taking in his tall slumped figure.

“Tell me why you hate me so much?” I breathed out as his eyes widened.

“I don’t… I…” 

“Zayn I know you loved her, you loved her so much. But i…I loved him too. You lost her and I lost him, the only difference is I tried to reach you, to hold you but you only pushed me away. You pushed me so far. I tried to be Malika, I learned you favorite foods, your likes your dislikes. I waited up late every night just to share a simple dinner with you…” I shook my head. My body ached. 

Maybe one day just one day Zayn Shah would open his eyes to look at the world which surrounds him. 

He took five years of my life.

He took my love away from me, my every chance at happiness. 

I stumbled up the stairs letting the tears flow. I slowly walked towards the familiar door I would walk through every night. I softly opened the door praying Zaisha was sounds asleep. 

She stood there in the center of the room with tears flowing freely down her big blue eyes. Her hands clutched on her teddy tightly as she stared at me in horror. 

“Baby what’s wrong?” 

“Are you really my momma?” She gasped as her tear filled eyes analyzed me head to toe. 

“What?”

“Daddy says to me to call you aunty all the time and you… you just said I’m not your baby to daddy. I heard.” She sobbed as her hands tighten around the doll and her small body shook. 

My heart broke.

This is my life. Maybe this is what they call karma. Karma comes for you, but I’ve never done anything bad to anyone, never though bad of anyone. Then why me?

“No, of course I’m your mom,” I breathed out as I headed towards her. How do I explain to a 5 year old child that her real mother died whilst bringing her into the world.

Her mind was too small. I couldn’t inflict that type of pain on her. 

She backed away from me, killing another piece of my heart.

“No. No.” She screamed aloud. “ I want my daddy, my real daddy.” She continued to scream slicing my heart and ears.

Zayn came running in bumping past my frozen body and taking Zaisha into his muscular arms. His eyes shone with worry as he looked between us trying to work out the few words, which had been exchanged between us. 

“She’s not my momma daddy, she said. She said it to you, I heard it.” She sobbed and buried her face against her father’s broad chest whimpering aloud. The same way she would cling to me when her father would disagree to attended a school even or take her to the park.

I was the same woman who would try anything to etch a smile on her small face and today she says I’m not her real mother. 

I stood still, in silence.

“Don’t cry little girl.” He said softly as his hands worked into the coils of curls taming them and soothing her erratic crying. 

Little girl. The man can’t even seem to show any affection towards his daughter. Which fantasy was I living in, to be exact what hope? 

“I guess there’s no need for me?” I stated as I backed away from my both father and daughter. My eyes were drained dry. 

I felt used and wasted. My value my self respect, I had none, and I felt cheap.

I had spent five years caring for a man that belonged to my sister, and brought up a child, which she had birthed. Even thought she’s gone, she won. She had everything, and I a living being had nothing. What was I thinking when I agreed to play the mother role at the age of 19? What had I thought when I recited yes to marry a man 8 years old than me, a man who was sold to my sister my body and mind. 

I sold my love for a man who couldn’t even value me or show me any affection. I gave my nights and my days to child, which in one second accused me of not being her mother. Who turned against me so quickly? 

She proved that relations are by blood only. At so young she turned me away, what would have I had to face 10 years on when she would have known I’m not the woman who carried her in my womb for 9 whole months. 

Would the pain have been double?

The man she clung to now was the same man who continued to disappoint her. The same man who scolded her.

I was right all along; the day my Nikah was read to Zayn Shah was a day I would regret forever.

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