Mannat

39 | Don't push me

QULSUM

"Mom, please sit down. I will manage everything." I said writing down some points on notepad and handing it over to the helper. "Get these from the market."

"I am sorry you had to rush here last night. I know you and Zayaan are not able to give time to each other." Mom said looking down at her now sprained ankle.
Yesterday she had fallen in the kitchen and sprained her ankle badly. When I got the news I had to rush home cause Dad was out of town for some business work.

"It's fine. Once Shiza's reception is over and your ankle heels, I'll go back." I reassured my mother. Honestly she wasn't completely wrong. It's been close to a month since I have married but I don't feel like a newly married bride. Drastic changes happening in our lives are always keeping me occupied.

"I just hope Shiza is happy. I don't want to regret my decision of asking Shiza to marry Asad." Mom stated looking at some distant.

"You won't." I said getting up. "I think you should get ready now. The reception starts at 7 and if we are late, Shiza is going to throw a fit."

~~~~~

I couldn’t help but peer at Shiza’s blushing, radiant face. A slow smile crept across my face as I watched her bickering with Asad on stage; she was clearly enjoying her wedding. A thought of my own, less-than-joyful marriage flashed through my mind, but I quickly suppressed it. I didn’t want to jinx Shiza’s happiness. I lowered my eyes, looking down at my henna-stained hands.

"What's making my wife upset?" A soothing voice followed by a hot breath hit my ear. I could feel Zayaan standing behind me.

I bite my lower lip and shake my head negative.

"C'mon tell me." Zayaan whispered while placing one of his hands on my waist. Heat crawled across my back while I tried to hide my flushed face.

"Shiza — she looks happy." I raise my head and tilt sideways to look at him. Silence unfurled our surroundings as I registered how close he was. Zayaan peered at my orbs with admiration. "I didn't get to enjoy any of this." I mumble whilst lowering my eyes.

There was a long pause.

"Is Mehndi, Haldi and reception enough?" Zayaan asked casually.

I looked at him with confusion laced on my face. "Are you saying our mehndi, haldi and reception? Is that even possible now?"

"Very much possible," he affirmed, a charming smile playing on his lips as he looked at me. "If my wife wants something, she receives it. There is no point in you being Mrs. Zayaan Zaidi if I fail to give you the marriage you've always envisioned."

I scrutinized him thinking he might be joking but he looked pretty serious.

"Zayaan I don't —"

"Shh. You are looking breathtaking, Qulsum." Zayaan's tone dropped an octave and he leisurely turned me around so that we were now facing each other. He peered at me with intensity brimmed in his eyes making me gulp.
"Can I take you home tonight after reception?" Goosebumps erupted all over my skin. A cold shiver coursed down my spine when his fingers caressed my waist.
The way he said those words, his emotions, his tone, his demeanor made me breathless. My throat parched as I watched him admiring me with his deep eyes.

"Mom wants me stay with her for a few days." I answer feeling guilty.
Zayaan is trying so hard to make me comfortable, to make everything normal between us. I feels like it's me who is the problem here. I don't know why I keep pushing him away. Like we had almost made improvement when he brushed his lips against mine but next hour I had to rush back home.