The Rich Life

20

ADAM POV

Tony came with me to London. All of his bitching was being blurred out. He was right but I didn't want to hear it this early in the morning. I felt as if I was underwater, Amara's voice calling out for me from across the ocean. I put my head in my hands. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say to her. An apology was too vague. The air hostess was the same one from Japan. She was an accident, certainly. And it's clear she wanted round 2.

"The second we land in this country, fire that bitch," I said, my cool fingertips pressed against my hot face.

"Oh fuck no. She can get out of the plane right now. Come on I thought you had standards you dickhead. Out with the slut. I hate you for-"

"Please shut up," I sighed, leaning back.

London was stately. And the roads much narrower in my opinion. And they drove on the wrong side. I was getting closer to her, and the taxi eventually came to rows of huge white houses, narrow and supported by pillars. They were all identical. It was the next day, one day since Amara had left me. I was fighting hard for her.

"Number 18," Tony said. The car parked up to the house, "I'm staying in here. I'll see Amara separately," The house was hidden by a huge tree

"Fine," I knocked on the door. A man opened it, his salt and pepper hair brushed back, the same nose as Amara. His dark eyes narrowed in hatred towards me.

"Hassan Khan, we've met before," I offered my hand towards him. It stood suspended in the air. I took it back awkwardly.

"You have some nerve coming here Mr Dervishi," He had a clear, low voice, with the British accent. I breathed in sharply

"Please. I just need to see her,"

He glared at me, then called Zahra's name. She came to the doorway, her hair fluffy and making her look so angelic. She stumbled when she saw me but her face betrayed no emotion. She started speaking in a language I didn't understand.

"Dad. Urdu se baat karo usko saamne," (Dad. Speak to me in Urdu in front of him)

Her eyes were cold and I almost wilted under it. Her fists were clenched.

"Kyun?" (Why?) Her dad asked, retreating from the doorway to give us space.

"Aadam Samaj aat te neya," (Adam doesn't understand it) She replied. I didn't have to be an expert in Urdu but I knew they were talking about me.

"Aacha teekhai. Pir, mai jareyo," (oh thats okay. Well, I'm going now)

"Nay. Idhar," Her face scrunched up, trying to find the word,"Stay karo," (No, stay here)

Her father took a few more steps forward, putting his arm around her. Her voice reverted to English and it was high and clear.

"I will not let you explain yourself. You've explained yourself enough pathetic, miserable times. Now you listen to me. Get out of this country and leave me alone. And if I ever find you have stepped so much as even a blade of grass here, I will have my family kill you. Keep your secretarial whore. And your air hostess. Because I don't care anymore. If this was going to be a foolish attempt to win me over, then let me just say, don't even try it. You chose your path. I will not chase you or force you to stay with me,"

I didn't doubt any of her threats for one second because I know they are true. But was Amara really going to stay with her family? After all the things they did to her?

"But Amara...Are you really going to stay with your family? They practically abused you!" I argued, "I want you safe, at the very least!"

"They've apologised to me. They're remorseful for what they did. Everythings changed,"