Father of the Bride

Chapter 8: Falling Deep

I hold a beast, an angel and a madman in me- 

Dylan Thomas

____________________________________________

Mahnoor returned to her empty house. She flicked her shoes off in the hallway and made her way into the dark lounge. Pulling the pin from her hair, her long tresses fell around her shoulders as she swayed her head from side to side. Sitting in the silence she listened to the ticks of the clock staring into the darkness. It was a disaster. How much longer could she fight these feelings? They were powerful to ignore. Khizar's autumnal eyes were fresh in her mind. The ring. His hand. Being around him was difficult; sometimes she couldn't catch her breath.

Oh Khizar, if only we've met away from all this. If only we met earlier I wouldn't hesitate for one second. You're everything I ever dreamed of. She sobbed quietly into her hands. I can't have you. It can't be. I'm so sorry.

The music throbbed in her head. The night was a beautiful disaster. The look of disappointment on Khizar's face broke her heart.

After half an hour, she sniffed back her tears and made her way upstairs. Inside her bedroom she switched on the lap and stood in front of the mirror. She turned her head in circles exercising the knot in her shoulders. From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow lurk in the door. It wasn't a shadow. She gasped and stepped back. It was Basharat. His hulking figure filled the doorway. His black t-shirt extenuated his muscles and his black hat gave him an ominous look. In his hand he held a picture from of Ayaaz.

"How did you get in?"

Basharat's head hung low. "I was missing him." He looked at the picture. "I know he's angry with me, but he is my son."

Mahnoor looked at the picture of Ayaaz draped in black holding his scrolled degree. It was the proudest day in her life. She could remember it like it was yesterday. Mahnoor looked at Basharat she saw a genuine concern in his eyes. They both shared a yearning for Ayaaz. She scrutinized her dress. It was everything he opposed. Revealing arms and neck and hugging her figure. Fear crept under her skin.

"You messed everything up?" He looked at her. "What did you do?"

She shook her head. "I don't have to answer to you. Just leave."

He inched closer until he was in the room. "I don't blame you. It's hard. You can't carry the burden alone."

The room was small and Basharat took most of the space making Mahnoor uncomfortable. "I don't need you." She folded her arms backing away into the far corner of the room. "Don't you see?"

"Mahi," He whispered in a low growl. "I know you. You need me. You can't keep Ayaaz away from me because I'm in his blood and only I know what is best for him and can make him see sense."

Mahnoor was ready to accept any kind of help when it came to her son, even from her foe. Tonight Basharat was different under the soft light of the lamp, he was almost warm. She needed someone to talk to. Someone who cared and loved her son as much as she did.

"You look beautiful." He gestured at her dress. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere." She felt the brush of cold against the nape of her dress. "Just dinner." The dress gathered around her feet like feathers, bringing out the shape of her hips. She was simply divine. Basharat stepped close the urge to touch her making his fingertips tingle.

Listen Mahi-" he whispered . "All is not lost. I'm still here. We're family. Family stick together." He assured her. She looked up at him longing to believe his words. To trust him so she can unburden herself onto him and allow him to take the strain. She couldn't do it alone any longer. Normally she had Ayaaz standing by her, now he'd gone and she didn't know who to turn to.

"It will be different this time. I've changed. You can't do everything on your own. You need me and together we will be stronger."

"He hates you."

"When he sees you've given me a chance he will too."

He was right. Ayaaz followed Mahnoor like a lost puppy, she could make Ayaaz see sense. Basharat's closeness sent a tremor through her spine. Mahnoor sidestepped ready to leave the room, but he stayed there his palms open wide.

"Let's work together."

Mahnoor met his eyes. In there she saw the Basharat who loved Ayaaz and ease her burden. "I'm his dad. Only I can help."

Her body was exhausted fighting everyone and proving to the world she was in control. For a split second she wanted to take off the layers and bare her soul. Her shoulders slanted and her arms hung by her side, and that's when Basharat read her body language and moved in.

"I've got you." He whispered. "Just breath." Her head bowed, he moved in standing directly behind her. Basharat's arms encompassed her exhausted body and he gently he stroked her arm making her blood rush warm. In circular motions he stroked her back. He touched her without hesitation like he owned her and brushed aside her hair preparing her slender neck for his lips. He'd kissed her neck many times before and knew very well the base of her neck was her weak spot. One touch and she would surrender to him. He knew her body. Every inch. Every curve. He memorised. In the dark lonely depths of the prison cell, it was the scent of her skin, the curve of her neck that kept him going. He pressed his nose against her skin.

"Your skin smells beautiful." He sniffed wildly. Nothing changed. Her skin smelled the same.

"No, Bash." She whispered but her mellow body spoke the contrary.

"Shush." He breathed.

The fighting came to an end for Mahnoor. The warning bells were drowned out by the innate desire to be touched and kissed. The temptation was hard to resist like she was ravenous to bite into the forbidden apple. It felt good to be held. It was so easy with Basharat. Like slipping back to old, natural and comfortable way and give into the throbbing desire. She closed her eyes breathing deep sighs. Basharat's lips and nose ran along her neck savouring the taste and disarming her. Basharat was a master at making her melt in his arms.

If there was one thing that bought them together it was always the way he made love to her and fixed things. Nothing mattered at this point. Nothing. All what mattered was seducing her to a point of no return. Fighting him was pointless, she couldn't. Energy drained her and her body fell limp as he awoke the desire deep within her, waking the good times of their past.

"I've always loved you." He moaned in her ear. "You're mine."

His large hands snaked around her slim neck. With one powerful move he could snap her neck and that power he yielded over her turned him on like a wild beast. He wanted her. Here and now. He lifted her neck up tilting her head back on his chest. He ran his hand across her soft, warm skin running his fingers across her collar bone breathing in her scent. She was his. In that moment he had total control over Mahnoor.

Tonight was his wedding wedding night. All. Over. Again.