Gereksiz İntikam

9

Taniya's pov

Something broke inside me, hearing his words.

Yeah, my heart broke into a billion pieces.

Allah, is he really about to sell me? Were all those promises, love, care, attention, late-night chats, and worries just a façade?

More tears come to my eyes as I remember his words.

Right now, I am sitting on the bathroom floor, drenched in water, but still, this water fails to hide my pain and tears.

How could he? I loved him. I broke my religious boundaries. For the first time ever in my life, I chose to let any man enter my life.

I love him with all my heart and soul. How could you, Navruz?

What would have happened if Abraham sir didn't crash my wedding?

What would have happened if I had bound myself to him in nikah?

Allah, my soul shivers at the thought of being sold by my own lover.

...
Shoaib's pov

I'm worried as hell.

It's been three hours since we returned from Ahmad Castle to a rented house near Galata Tower.

I want to be as far away as possible from that castle.

I know she is hurt beyond words after discovering the true face of her so-called deceased love, but that's okay. That bastard is dead.

She is safe and sound; no one is selling her for Sex work.

Shit, why do I feel like killing that bastard again?

How could he fake his love to sell her in prostitution?

My tongue feels bitter at just the word "sell, prostitution"

Controlling my rage, I decide to knock on the door.

This naive girl locked herself in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Does she think I'm stupid? I know she turned on the shower so that I wouldn't hear her crying.

Okay, I don't care if she cries or not.

But it's been three shitty hours. I won't pay a single penny if she gets a fever.

Then why are you worrying? My heart mocks me.

She didn't open the door, but I'm stubborn.

So I knock again.

"Open the damn door, Taniya," I shout while banging on the door with all my strength.

After a minute,

The sound of the knob clicking reaches my ears, and I breathe in relief.

But my relief only lasts a few seconds.

She stood there, completely drenched in water, her white suit clinging to her body like a second skin, revealing all her curves to my eyes.

Her long hair is dripping with water, and a few wet strands stick to her face.

She isn’t wearing her dupatta, so I can clearly see her black inner.

Her white skin has turned red, and those blue eyes, which I hate the most, now look like drugs.

Her blue eyes have turned completely pink from continuous crying.Her dense lashed looking like damp leaves.

Her chin and lips are still trembling.

Her swan-like neck looks marvelous with water droplets on her collarbone and shoulder blade.

Shut up, Shoaib, nobody asked you to describe her beauty.

But seeing her vulnerability and drenched state, a smirk appears on my lips.

But her action breaks my thoughts, and my smirk dies on my lips.

She clings to me and hugs me tightly like her life depends on it.

Her delicate, wet arms around my neck and her drenched body clinging to me make my clothes damp too.

She starts crying hysterically.

I don't know why, but her crying is hurting me. I soothe her back to calm her down.

But she cries even more.

"Shoaib, I'm not a bad girl. I just chose to love him. I didn't know his intentions, that he wanted to sell me into women trafficking," she cried, pressing herself even more into me.

Her henna-clad hands around my neck smell like heaven.

The dark red stain looks marvelous on her white skin.

I let her cry because I think, as a woman, it's really a big thing.

I soothe her with my words while my hand continues caressing her back to calm her hiccups.

"Shhh...now stop crying, that's enough. He's no more. I am with you," I said, but those "I am with you" words left my lips without my permission.

I will also leave her after taking her innocence, so why did I say I am with her?

"I'm not a bad girl, Shoaib," she cried, repeating those words again and again, her hold tightening around my neck as if she’s afraid to leave my embrace.

You are not a bad girl, Taniya, but you were born in the wrong place.

After what feels like hours, I finally pull her away from my chest.

But I immediately regret it.

Her trembling lips look like fresh petals smeared with dew.

Our eyes meet—her blue eyes, now pink from crying, and my brown orbs.

And without thinking about anything,

I lock her lips with mine.

---

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