Love Means Sacrifice

Ch. 76: Tending Wounds

Mehwish's P.O.V.

As soon as Murad and I got home, he shut the front door and I bent down to take off my heels. When I stood up and turned around, he was standing an inch away from me.

I pressed myself against the wall.

"What was that?" he scrutinized.

"What was what?" I responded, trying to conceal my nerves.

"Tonight."

I looked at him, feigning confusion.

A bitter sarcastic smile appeared on his lips, "While I must commend you for your performance tonight, wifey, we both know it was more than what was asked of you," he traced his finger along the left side of my collarbone, "You can barely stand my presence, let alone my touch, yet there you were, holding my hand and touching my chest."

His eyes slowly trailed down from my forehead to my mouth, lingering there.

"Y-you were right," I stammered.

He lifted an eyebrow, now meeting eyes with me again.

"About Zahid. And you're right in what you're doing by rubbing our marriage in his face."

Skepticism with underlying surprise took over his face.

He opened his mouth to speak but I read his mind, "I know you're thinking that I would beg you not to do anything to him or his family, so what changed? I'm not taking that back or anything, but seeing him again after so long made me realize that you did make a good point," I spoke in a more deliberate voice, "And it resurfaced some thoughts and hurt that I thought I had gotten over. He had let me get with his brother. He treated mine and his relationship like a joke. He didn't have the guts to stand up for it... Regardless of whatever you did, however you did it, you showed me commitment."

He blinked and I could see the subtle vulnerability in his eyes.

Success.

"You married me upon our third meeting, and however our... arrangement... may be, you showed me loyalty in a way he didn't and probably never could."

His frame shrunk as he studied me, but after a few moments, his features tensed up again.

I had spoken too soon.

He took a fistful of my hair, tilting my head up so he could look down into my eyes as he towered over me.

Slapping a hand on the wall next to me, venom dripped from his slow words, "You won't use me like that."

Talk about double standards!

"Nor will you do beyond what's demanded of you. Got it?" he pulled, jerking my head up even more.

At the sudden motion, I instinctively placed my hands on his chest to steady myself. He looked down at my hands and his glare waivered.

I quickly moved my arms down to my sides.

"Got. It?" he repeated, firming his grip on my hair while simultaneously leaning closer.

I shifted my gaze down and nodded.

The evil smirk returned as he let go, pleased with the fact he was able to invoke fear in me again.

He looked over my shoulder as he patted my hair down and chuckled, "Good. You almost had me worried, wifey."

"I was beginning to think you developed Stockholm Syndrome. I would've had to schedule a doctor's appointment for you after I came back from New York," he strode into the living room and dropped himself on the couch, loosening his tie.