HIS INNOCENT BRIDE

TWENTY-FIVE

“No, then I’ll make you, my wife.” He said as he was completely shirtless now but the thing that made my heartbeat skyrocketed was his words.

Wife? Then I would be related to him.

“I don’t want to be your wife.” I muttered as I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him also I felt some kind of giddiness inside my chest.

“Then let me make someone else my wife.” He disappeared inside the restroom as I screamed at his back.

“You can make anyone your wife who is willing and Areej isn’t.” I said as without waiting for his reply I adjusted my dress and ran towards the door to enter my room which just across the hall so close to him.

I closed the door behind me with a relieved expression while stress was till compressing my brain strings.

I couldn’t say that he was completely bipolar because he had the reason. To get angry with me sometimes and all this sometimes belonged to Jameel. I was now angry at him too if it was true that he laid hands on Beela. Beela must be head over heels for him or she was utterly drowned by his fake love that violence never became a big deal for her.

If he ever raised hands on me, I would never be able to respect him anymore. A thought came across my mind as I looked at the closed door. He was close to me but still felt like miles away because of the difference in our thoughts and the believes in our emotions.

But there was a part of me that he would never raise hands on me. He had talked to me gently every time even when he was boiling with rage. He never had the need to yell because everyone was scared of his cold voice and deadly glare including me but sometimes like the night in the dhabba I felt like I wasn’t scared of him. I couldn’t feel any type of threat and fear against him as he was completely different at that time.

My thoughts roamed around only one person when sleep consumed and engulfed me in his arms. I didn’t know what time it was when I finally drifted to sleep but middle in the night, I found someone caressing my hairs made me feel contended just like the moment s when me and my mother use to sleep together after she told me the bedtime stories. I felt safe.

No matter how much you like the chirping of birds and the melody they play early in the morning but when you don’t want to wake up you really didn’t want to hear it. I fluttered my eyelashes at the sounds too as my eyelids were too heavy because of the sleep that still hadn’t left my eyes.

I wanted to turn around so that I could fill my face inside the pillow to have some more sleep but I couldn’t even move when I felt something heavy rested on my waist. I squirmed as now I fully opened my eyes to absorb m surrounding.

The black sheets, the small chandeliers and the grey and white curtains ahead of my eyes making them to pop open. This wasn’t my room this was…his.

I looked down at my waist where his veiny arm was gripping me like his life depended on me. I didn’t want to freak out so in order to overcome my panic state I took few deep breaths before I tried to remove his hand but I almost screamed when his grip tightened while pulling me back against his chest. His face nuzzled in the crook of my neck making my toes curl a little when his breath hit the bare areas of my skin.

Giving up I decided to do something else as I turned around only to face his sleeping form. My face got flushed as soon as I realized he was shirtless. I tried to place my hands in between us in order to not touch him but there was a little space in between and my hands ended up on his chest just to make sure that he wasn’t flushing my chest.

The desire to get up and run away from him subsided for a moment as I looked at his features.

Kitney masoom lag rahey hen. (How innocent he is looking.)