Turmoils- A Muslim Love Story

Chapter 9

Sorry for the late update (sheepish smile). I was busy with my cousin's wedding. But here it is! Enjoy. :)

(Un Edited.)
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Ayesha's PoV

There had been many times where I felt as if though the world is about to end. Or times when I wish that the floor somehow breaks open and I fall inside.

I think this is one of those times.

Farhan glided up the stairs and walked towards me. He had a blank expression on his handsome face. He kept walking towards me until we were just 3 inches apart.

He flicked his finger towards the door which I had entered before, at the far end of the corridor.

"That's your room." He spat. There he goes again. Treating me like dirt. I felt my blood boil. The pinching pain in my wrists returned because I dug my nails into my palms.

I was about to go, when he suddenly pulled me back by my arm and pinned me to the wall. I felt my heart beating wildly against my ribcage. I looked at him and saw rage in his brown eyes. Had I caused it? And if I had, why and how?

"If you think that there is going to be any sort of relationship between us, then you are just deluding yourself. Forget about the wedding night. I can't even look at you right now." He sneered.

I felt hurt. And furious. Fury took over my hurt and I looked at him coldly.

"As if I was expecting chivalry from you Mr. Farhan. You're just deluding yourself, I'm not deluding anything. Cut down the wedding night. I'm just grateful I spent our wedding day with you without gauging your eyes out of their sockets." I barked.

Rage radiated from him and his eyes became slits.

"I hate you. I can never ever love you. I married you because it was my mother's wish. Otherwise, I don't even step on people like you. Have you seen yourself? So pathetic." He spat angrily.

I clenched my jaw. "Are you done? Because, the feelings are mutual. I hate you too. And loving you is out of the question. I married you because of Aunty. I hate you too." I yelled angrily at him. And with that, I spun around and stalked to my room.

Once inside, I made sure to lock it up, so the devil might not be able to enter, if he tries. Ayan was staying with Aunty for the night.

How I wish he was here! I really missed him. At least he could cheer me up when his brother made me sad.

I took off the jewellery and placed it on top of the console. My room really is beautiful. It was the same room I had entered before Farhan and my ugly confrontation.

I opened the cupboards only to find branded clothes hanging in them. I gasped. Aunty wasn't kidding when she said she was going to replace my whole wardrobe.

I selected on a pair of bunny printed pj's and a half-sleeved t-shirt. I took a long hot shower and dried my hair. Then I pulled them up in a bun. My bags were placed in the corner of the room.

After carefully folding up my wedding dress and securely keeping it inside the cupboard and after carefully placing the jewellery in the lock drawer, I opened up my bag and pulled out my mother's photo frame from inside.

Her picture smiled at me as if assuring me that everything would be okay. I hugged the photograph to my chest as I layed down on top of my bed and snuggled inside the covers.

I was all alone. On my wedding night. Only with my mother's photograph to keep me company. Funny, this situation reminded me of my first day at the orphanage.

A sad, heart-broken and betrayed girl had to start a new life inbetween complete strangers. Who were all orphans.

But what made it harder for her to start a new life was that she was aware of the fact that she wasn't an orphan.

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Farhan's PoV

Jogging always helped me clear up my mind. So after waking up this morning, I took off on a long jog to clear up my mind.

After Ayesha talked back to me last night and went into her room, I had a fit of rage. I would've practically broken everything had Zara not called.

Zara Aswad is a wonderful girl and my girlfriend. I wanted to marry her but I couldn't defy my mother's wishes.

She was upset at first, though. But I begged her not to leave me and promised her that after a duration of 6 months, I would divorce Ayesha. That seemed to do the trick.

Zara is from a wealthy family and is an only child. She told me that her father had a second marriage when she was 6 years old. So she and her mother, Zareena Aunty, moved out of her father's home to live with her maternal uncle.

But her father's second wife died from tumor and she and Zareena Aunty were brought back by her father. Her mother forgave him. That's all she told me. Sometimes I think she is hiding some teeny tiny detail. But then again I could be imagining things.

I sat down on a bench after a long jog. I looked at my wrist-watch. 8:30 a.m. I should be heading back as I needed to go to work.

I got up and headed back towards my home.

I entered the house through the front door. The smell of something fresh being cooked hit my nose like a soft cushion.

Curious as to what it was, I neared the kitchen. Ayesha was standing with her back facing towards me. I made sure to keep myself hidden behind the wall seperating the kitchen and the hall.

I watched as she continued cooking. Then she turned around so that her face was facing me. I looked at her in awe.

So beautiful.

Her open hair looked fabulous as she kept brushing them aside to wipe off some sweat. Her dress looked amazing on her. It was a purple frock with diamonds and had a green dupatta around her neck.

She picked up the mug and took a sip of its contents: tea. She scrunched up her nose and put the mug back down in its previous position.

I shook my head to rid of her thoughts. Maybe I'm sweaty from the run that's why my mind is wandering. I really need a shower right now. I jogged upstairs after glancing at her once more. She was mixing sugar in her tea.

I chuckled quietly. She forgot to add sugar and had to taste bitter tea.
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