His Ignored Wife

31: Fighting Away His Promises

(IMPORTANT NOTE: Guys, one thing, I forgot that Asmara's mom name was Aunt Hena, so wrote Aunt Shazia, instead, in the previous chapter. I have already edited that part, but I hope you guys don't get confused.)

-Ugly truths hide in some glamorous illusions-

There are moments that keep resonating inside your heart...reminding you of the scars you had to deal with before being able to move on. The ache in my heart was a constant, but it was a matured ache...a learned lesson to never go down old roads again. When little, my grandmother used to caress my hair and tell me that many people in this world were good and deserved a fighting chance, but what if some good people didn't. I wouldn't necessarily call my soon-to-ex husband a terrible person, but he had made some harsh choices, and giving him a second chance would be only a crushing decision. 

I had been that road so many times.

The echo of him continuously breaking my heart just wouldn't go away. I would wake up at nights with nightmares filling me with the fear that my heart would be maligned the same way my grandmother's heart was. She devoted her life to her husband, while he chose others over her. That devotion was something I had once clung on to, but now I had realized that my grandmother was just a victim-someone who chose to stay imprisoned instead of breaking it. 

Was it worth it?

Maybe, to her, but to her heart and soul...she had made a huge mistake. 

Now, heading towards the hotel's main restaurant, I kept my emotions tight as I moved through the overwhelming crowd; there were rich tycoons everywhere. Foreigners, judgemental vibes could be felt lingering in the air, but I had enough of it as I finally escaped by stepping inside the restaurants.

The managing ladies were by my side at once. 

"Ma'am, you are here," one of the ladies greeted. She looked as old as my mom, and I didn't like her calling me Ma'am.

"Umm...you can call me Maya," I smiled, visibly watching her relax at my comfortable attitude. I was glad she felt like she didn't mean to keep up any facades for me. No matter what, I always wanted everyone to feel valued and important. Being belittled myself, I knew how much others' actions could really hurt. 

"Good, good," she enthusiastically shook my hand. "Sir Demir had already told us about what exactly you have to do here. Trust me, there isn't much. Just follow me..." she began leading me towards the backside of the restaurant, towards the buffet table area. 

I felt curious. 

What exactly did Demir want me to do in this restaurant? I really couldn't cook any food, and I was so clumsy to serve food, so what exactly was I to do here? 

Curiously looking around, I momentary pulled out my mobile phone while following after the manager lady, Amara, and checked my inbox. There was still no message from Asmara. Last night, I had texted her this hotel's address, but she was yet to respond back. I hope she wasn't thinking of surprising me because that would be a huge mess. I still had to conjure up enough momentum to tell Demir about my family...Zaheer...and I was thinking about doing it the very last minute. It wouldn't give him much time to react. 

"Here," Amara stopped before the buffet table, turning towards me. "This is what you have to look after," she explained, looking at my confused expressions. 

"I don't understand..." I frowned, staring at the table. Did I had to place the plates on it? Was I supposed to keep it clean? What was I supposed to do with it?

"Oh, well, all you have to do is make sure the buffet table is properly organized...the platters are continuously refilled, you also have to manage the interior decoration of this place on a daily basis. We rearrange this entire place every day," she smiled. I nodded. Seemed acceptable enough. I wanted this kind of work to actually make my stay in this hotel seem fair. I wanted no shortcuts.