Bewitched

7

MUMTAZ

I was angry—beyond livid. My blood boiled as I paced back and forth in my room, trying to cool down but failing miserably. How could I let this happen? How could I let that man—Muntassir—get under my skin like this? I was supposed to scare him away, irritate him until he couldn't stand the sight of me. But instead, what did I do? I stomped on his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. Pathetic.

I should have done more. I should have smashed a plate over his head, thrown my drink in his face, anything more dramatic to show him I was serious. But no, I let him walk all over me, charm me with that infuriating smile of his. And now I couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop replaying every moment of that ridiculous date in my mind.

Why was I like this? Why couldn't I just shove him out of my thoughts and move on with my life? I flopped onto my bed with a groan, burying my face in a pillow. This stupid man wouldn't leave my mind, and what's worse, he wouldn't stop texting me either. Every day, like clockwork, a new message from him would pop up on my phone, some annoying quip or cheeky remark that I should have ignored but didn't.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and stared at the screen. The worst part was that I couldn't stop myself from responding. It had slowly become part of my routine. As much as I hated to admit it, I looked forward to those texts. But today...nothing.

I frowned, scrolling through my messages. There wasn't a single text from him today. Normally, I'd wake up to something from him—some stupid "Good morning" or a meme that made me roll my eyes. But today, silence.

Good, I told myself. Maybe he finally got the hint. Maybe he realized I wasn't interested and decided to back off. I should be relieved, ecstatic even. But instead, there was this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if something happened? What if he was sick? Or dead?

I sat up abruptly, shaking my head. No, no, no. I wasn't going to start worrying about him. This was what I wanted. Away with that pesky rat, I thought, trying to convince myself that I was glad he was gone.

Before I could spiral any further, Saif and Yusuf barged into my room, their usual goofy grins plastered on their faces.

"Ridwan told us you went on a date," Saif started, his voice laced with curiosity. "How was it?"

I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. "Can everyone please stop asking me about this? It was a one-time thing."

"One time?" Yusuf raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Your father doesn't seem to think so."

I shot him a glare, but he continued, unbothered.

"He said you're marrying Muntassir," Saif added, clearly enjoying the chaos this conversation was stirring.

I screamed in frustration and grabbed the nearest pillow, hurling it at them with all the strength I could muster. "Go away! I don't want to think about this!" I yelled, feeling my temper flare up again.

"Woah, calm down, Tazzy," Yusuf said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "No need to go all berserk."

"Yeah, we were just curious," Saif added, his grin widening.

They ducked out of the room quickly, clearly amused by my outburst. I glared at the door they left through, still fuming. The nerve of them, barging in here like that and dropping a bombshell. Marrying Muntassir? Who in their right mind thought that was a good idea?

I paced the room again, trying to shake off their words. My father had really said that? Just the thought made me want to scream all over again.

It wasn't just them, either. Everyone in the house seemed to think this was a done deal. Ridwan, my father, now Saif and Yusuf—what was wrong with these people? Shouldn't they be on my side? Shouldn't they be warning him off instead of practically handing me over on a silver platter?