The Unwanted Marriage

Chapter 36

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Amina's POV

The sun's rays touched my face, gently waking me. I slowly opened my eyes, and my gaze fell on him.

His hand was resting on my waist, my hand around his neck, our legs tangled together. My heart started racing, just seeing him this close. I don't know what's happening to me - I like this feeling, and at the same time, I wish I didn't feel anything at all.

The sunlight crept onto his face, making his skin glow. God, he's so handsome. And of course, someone like him must've had a girlfriend. That thought hit me hard. I remembered him mentioning a girl last night - who was she?

The memories of last night came rushing back, and tears filled my eyes. He didn't trust me. He accused me of something I never did. And yes, I know he's sorry, but how can I just forgive him and forget everything? There's no relationship without trust.

Slowly, I pulled myself out of bed, leaving behind the warmth of the sheets and the comfort of his arms. I tried not to wake him - even though walking away felt like the hardest thing to do.

I walked towards the washroom and did my morning business. I went to turn on the tap water but accidentally turned on the shower instead. The cold splash drenched me completely. I clicked my tongue in frustration. "Kal hi main beemar padi thi," I muttered with a sigh. Then I just quickly took a shower. After that, I wore my baby pink kurti—it's my favorite color—and paired it with white salwar. I really like this color combination, it's cute and my absolute favorite.

[I got sick just yesterday.]

I stepped out, my damp hair wetting my kurti. I was drying it with a towel when suddenly—

"Why did you wash your hair again?"
His sharp voice made me flinch badly.

I widened my eyes, startled, and turned to look at him. He was watching me—his expression a mix of concern and something else I couldn't quite decipher.

Quickly, I clutched the towel to my chest, realizing my dupatta was lying a little too far.
Ya Allah, I muttered under my breath, my heart racing.

Zayd's gaze lowered, and he murmured guiltily, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Ignoring him, I quickly walked to the chair and grabbed the dupatta, wrapping it securely around myself before placing the towel down.

"You weren't well yesterday, Amina," he said again, his concern clear. "And you just washed your hair last night. Doing it again while you're still recovering—"

"So what?" I interrupted coldly. I was done. Done with everything. I didn't want to feel hope again.
"It's my hair. I'll wash it whenever I want," I snapped, my irritation bleeding through every word.

I knew I'd hurt him. But he deserved it. Why wouldn't he just leave me alone? Why did he have to make me feel things I was trying so hard to bury?

"Amina, I didn't mean it like that," he said softly, stepping closer. My breath hitched.

"You were sick last night. You didn't need to wash your hair again—it could make things worse."

For a moment, I froze. Seeing him like this... It stirred something in me. But I knew he'd change again. He always did. That's why I couldn't let myself believe. I didn't want him raising hopes he'd only shatter.

"Stop acting concerned," I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
"Anyway, I wasn't planning to wash it. When I turned on the shower, the water just fell on my head by accident," I admitted bitterly.