ECHOES OF DEFIANCE

chapter 10

We chatted for a while, mostly about school, when Zain dropped an unexpected question.

"So, when do you plan on getting married?" he asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.

I froze for a moment, staring at him as if I hadn’t heard him right. His question caught me completely off guard, and for several seconds, I could do nothing but blink.

"I don't know, I haven't really thought about it," I finally replied, trying to keep my tone light, though I could feel an uncomfortable weight settling in my chest.

Zain, on the other hand, looked unbothered, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "Maybe when you're 18?" he suggested playfully, raising an eyebrow.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking my head. "18 is next month, no. Maybe 22 or 23," I responded, flipping through the pages of the book we had been discussing. Not that I was actually reading it—I was too overwhelmed by his words, my thoughts spinning in all directions. I mean, who talks about marriage this early? What was wrong with him? Who even gets married at this age anymore?

Maybe love really *has* made him crazy.

I could feel his eyes burning into my face, his gaze intense and unwavering. But I nervously kept my attention on the book, pretending to be deeply engrossed in something—anything—to avoid looking at him. My heart raced, and I didn’t trust myself to meet his eyes.

"I *have* to marry you this year," he said suddenly, his voice dropping to a tone I had never heard before—soft, almost vulnerable, like he was pleading.

My hands stilled, the book lying forgotten in my lap. I looked up slowly, our gazes locking. His eyes were filled with an emotion I hadn’t seen before—something raw, something deep.

"Zain... marriage is not child’s play," I began, my voice steady, but my heart was pounding. "We’re both so young."

His eyes remained locked on mine, filled with a quiet desperation that unsettled me. "What if this is just for a fleeting moment?" I asked softly. "What if we really *do* want this? Think it through. I will too. You know I love you, right?" I paused, holding his hand as sign of assurance. "Let’s figure out if we really want this."

"I know I want this, and I'm the only one in my family to have reach this age without  getting married.

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I could feel my chest tighten, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. I reached out, gently placing my hand on his, trying to soothe the storm I could see brewing in his eyes. "Zain, you need to really think this through." Did you know when I first realized I loved you?" He asked, I nodded  my head abit

He gave me a small, sad smile. "You were 13," he said softly. "I guess it’s been almost four years now. I remember it so clearly—at Amma’s, when she was plaiting your hair. I walked in, and you quickly pulled a scarf over your head and gave me the deadliest glare I’ve ever seen. Then... then that accident with the snack plate  happened, and when Amma called out and accidentally dropped you, I thought you were hurt. I was so scared." His voice wavered slightly as he recounted the memory. "After that, I wanted to apologize, but by then, you had already started hating me thinking it was intentional. I guess you never really liked me to begin with." He laughed a bit. "Things just got worse from there. But when I first saw you again at the Turkish restaurant, I was so happy. I thought... maybe I could finally make you like me."

I listened quietly, my heart aching for him. It was strange, hearing him speak like this. Zain had always been the snobbish, distant one. He barely spoke to anyone, let alone opened up like this. The fact that he was this vulnerable with me made my heart swell, and I couldn’t deny it anymore—I loved him so much, too.

But that didn’t change the reality.

"Zain, that’s really messed up. I can’t get married next year," I said softly, shaking my head. "You don’t have to get married just because everyone in your family is rushing into it."

His grip on my hand tightened slightly. "I have to. It’s more complicated than you think," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "I’m the only son of Safwan bin Nahyan Al Qasimi."

The name rang a bell, faintly. But in my overwhelmed state, I couldn’t quite place where I’d heard it before. Still, the gravity of his words wasn’t lost on me.

"Zain, I don’t enjoy talking about marriage. I’m only 17," I said, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on me.

He smiled softly, though there was disappointment in his eyes. "Please, think about it," he pleaded.

I sighed, feeling torn. "Maybe we should slow down," I said, looking him in the eyes. "I don’t want to rush into something like this. Should I marry or should I study? I don’t want anything to jeopardize my future."

He looked at me for a long moment, and then, with a sigh of resignation, he nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "I’ll give you space to think about us. Is that alright?"

I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Yes."

He gave me a gentle smile, his hand still holding mine as he rose from his seat. "Eat something and rest. We’ll talk later. I love you

He paused in the doorway, turning back with a small smile, “I love you”

"I love you" i replied  with a smile bare on my lips

The next morning, my phone buzzed. Zain was calling.

“I’m leaving for Morocco,” he said. His voice was calm, almost distant.

“Okay. Safe travels,” I replied, my voice void of emotion. As soon as I ended the call, I stared at my phone, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts.

I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t allow myself to be dragged into something I wasn’t ready for. My future, my independence—it all mattered too much. I had to end things before I fell any deeper. Before I lost myself.