Weakness

In His Arms

Noora's POV.

I stayed silent. I did not know what to say. I tried hard to be present tonight but I just can't. My body isn't coping well with this new environment.

"People are still waiting for you and here you are? Sanam, what's going on?" He asked her. He looked pissed.

"Ozan, calm down. Your wife was having a full-on panic attack in the bathroom. She doesn't feel comfortable being here at all. How can you just force her to stay here? I told you she wasn't going to fit in." Sanam was mad at him.

He looked at me with concerned eyes this time.

"You...cried?" He asked me.

"She almost fainted as well. Take her home if you care for the love of god." Sanam said before walking back inside the hotel in frustration.

He got close to me leaving only a few inches between us.

"Look at me" he ordered as I met his brown eyes.

"What's the matter?" He asked pushing some strings of my hair back.

"I...can't do this. I tried but...I don't think this is for me. I'm sorry." I looked down.

I'm so ashamed.

He grabbed my hands and took a look at them.

"You're shaking." He stated.

"Why didn't you tell me...that this wasn't for you?" He asked.

"I...I didn't want to disappoint you. I knew what was coming and tried to prepare myself but...it didn't work. I'm sorry." I apologized.

Should I also tell him about how I did not like the interactions that happened tonight or is it not the right time?

"Let's go home." He said after letting out a sigh. Is he mad?

He grabbed my hand and pulled me with him up to the car. Our driver got in and we were back on the road home.

Once we arrived home, we got inside and as he walked past me I grabbed onto his hand. He turned around meeting my eyes.

"You're upset." I made the statement because the change in his behaviour is obvious.

"I am...I made you cry. I'm an asshole." He lets go of my hand and walks away into the kitchen as I follow him. I feel the need to check up on him.

He untied his tie and harshly threw it on the floor along with his blazer. Then, he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. Oh no...is he going to drink?

He somehow manages to open the beer using the edge of the kitchen counter and then takes a big sip.

"Ozan...don't do this," I said.

"Look, we can talk about this...it doesn't have to be this way—"

"Why the fuck did I do this to myself and you?!" He snapped and I couldn't help but flinch at the rise of his tone.

What is he talking about?

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Take off this dress. Now." He ordered all of a sudden.

"I...why?" I asked.

"Just take it off—fuck!!" He turned around drinking more.

"Why do you want me to take my dress off?" I asked once again.

"Because it's killing me. To see you looking like this...and not being able to touch you...not even being able to kiss your beautiful curves and feel your heart beat against mine...it kills me that I'm an asshole who forced you to marry me...it kills me that I made you cry...it kills me that you're not happy in my presence..." my heart was beating so fast. His words touched me so deeply.