Entangled Love ✓

Chapter 43

Armaan's POV

Why is he calling me? After what has happened the other day, he still has the guts to contact me. After the particular encounter in the restaurant, I haven't once tried to meet him; more like I have no yearning to even see him. I sigh in annoyance when despite my ignoring his calls, he is still desperate as my phone is ringing without any pause, thanks to him. What the hell he wants to tell me?

He is not going to quit until I will receive the call.

As soon as I accept the call and set the phone on my ear, Zara walks back inside without any indecision. I stare at her fading figure in uncertainness. Has she gone from here because of the call? Has she just given me privacy?

'I need to meet you, Armaan. When I will come back tomorrow, meet me in the office.'

My scrutiny averts from her when his voice colloids with my ear. Fury ebbs through my veins listening to my father's same pretentious voice. He still believes he can control me. Now I remember, he has been out of the country for three days.

'But I don't want to.'

I spat with tightened jaws and am about to cancel the call when he intrudes me.

'That's not my loss then because it concerns that girl whom you seem to care too much.'

Is he talking about Zara? What does he know about her? I hope he is not planning to hurt her anymore.

'Whom are you referring to?'

'Your wife. Who else?'

'I still don't care.'

I press the green button, putting extra force on it through the pulp of my finger, expressing my anger on this lifeless screen. I don't want him to order me around anymore like he always does. Still, I am apprehensive about what information he has about Zara for which he is so impatient to meet me. But I don't want him to have a notion that I care about her in any way, it may prod him to cause her more damage which I truly don't hope.

The rain already seems to come to a halt as the mesmerizing chirping of the raindrops plunging has also become faint, though it's still present, substantiating that small drops are still scouring their way down to the ground.

I push the same porous door to the front. My feet renders dig in the same position; a few inches ahead of the fence, glimpsing Zara sleeping in an uneasy position. Why has she slept here? She is still sitting on the couch as her head is leaning back, taking support from the crown of it. Her eyes are shut tight as her lips are parted a little permitting the soft breathes to puff out of her mouth inflicting the rambler strands of her hair to blow up every time. How is she even able to sleep peacefully in such a posture?

I grab her arms with a gentle touch, careful of not to wake her up and make her lay on the same couch. Her eyelids flutter due to sudden disturbance but soon she again goes to sleep with a pout on her lips. There is something in her that pulls me towards her; more vigorous than before and more esoteric than anyone can ever do. Probably, this is the reason I am unable to stay away from her despite knowing the fallouts of it well.

Like a fascinating delirium, her presence makes me feel complete. With her, I am myself. I crouch down before her as my eyes still lagging on her. Her long, sleek eyelashes are creating a silhouette on her ruddy cheeks. I tug the strands of her hair behind her ear when they start impeding my view. An electrifying feeling flies through my body when my fingers brush against her tender cheeks.

That time when I had held her soft hand in mine, everything becomes a fallacy to me and it's just her and me. She has made me experience me; who I am and how I want to live. I want to explore everything with her, without the fear of the outcome, without the alarm of shattering commitments. I expected to make her comfortable around me and I myself end up being uncomfortable around her. I wanted to annihilate that reserved nature of her with me and I end up liking the same restrained nature of her. Something thrived inside me and without thinking twice, I bend forward so that her face is just some inches away from me.