Gereksiz İntikam

29

Shoaib's POV

Well, I take a deep breath, watching her sleep carelessly in this private jet. 

Of course, it belongs to her newly found dear, Don Abraham Ahmad. 

I know what you guys are thinking—private jet? 

Well, I was booking flight tickets, but this good-for-nothing, illiterate wife of mine doesn’t even have basic documents like an identity card, which means a passport is out of the question. 

She told me she has her documents at her Reyhanli house but under a different name. 

Yep, a family of terrorists can’t even have documents in their real names. 

I can’t risk my well-settled job, which pays me a fortune, for this unwanted—or should I call her a burden—of a wife. 

But as you know, I urgently need to leave this country, or I’ll end up destroying everything. 

So, I told my Amma that it was too urgent to reach there. 

She asked Abraham Ahmad to arrange something, and that billionaire Richie Rich arranged this private jet for his dear newly found princess. 

Actually, I thought Amma would let me go alone if I told her how urgent my work was, but Allah knows what hit her brain—she did what she did. 

Well, it was my plan to leave my wife behind, as I wasn’t in the mood to take her with me, but I guess luck isn’t on my side. As you can see, the major issue of not having a passport for a 17-hour-long international flight was solved with just two or three calls from Abraham Ahmad. 

And here we are—she’s sleeping like there’s no tomorrow. 

Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the cozy, luxurious room of the plane and sit down while unlocking my laptop. 

Roaming my fingers over the keyboard, my mind drifts back to her actions early this morning. 

I had been sleeping on the couch, which was too small for me, making my neck and back ache. Yeah, the couch—because my nieces were sleeping with my wife in our bed, still covered in decorations. 

As per her routine, she woke up half an hour before Fajr to pray Tahajjud. 

I was wide awake but pretended to be asleep. 

She twisted her long hair into a messy bun—thanks to the darkness, she couldn’t see me gawking at her. 

She covered Abira and Dilan with a comforter. 

But I think she noticed my presence too. I immediately closed my eyes, pretending to be in deep slumber. 

I could feel her presence near me, but my body tensed when I felt the warmth of a comforter being placed over me. 

When I no longer felt her presence, I opened my eyes. 

She was nowhere to be seen—or maybe in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, she came out, water dripping from her face and hands. Her messy bun had transformed into a braid that reached down to her hip, dangling like a noose. 

She performed her prayer, but I noticed her wiping her tears again and again—an unwanted stab to my heart. 

Why is she crying? Did I do something? Did my behavior hurt her today? 

Stop it, you fool! Why are you even concerned? The devil in me mocked, making me clench my teeth. 

When she stood up, folding the prayer mat, I unknowingly wished for her to come to me, blow on my face, and run her tiny fingers through my hair until I forgot the discomfort of the small couch and drifted into a peaceful sleep.