Lying motionless on the floor, Zaahida could cry no more. The pain Bilal had inflicted on her body was nothing compared to the one in her heart. She was barely alive, lying in the pool of her own blood. Subconsciously, her eyes opened and closed on their own terms. She couldn't decipher what was about to happen to her. All she could see was blank. Remorselessly, Bilal stood tall before her, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.. "Do you now understand the consequence of disrespecting me? If you think you can do it, and get away with it, simply because my father approves of you, then you're badly mistaken. I'm Bilal," he smirked. "No one, especially someone as worthless as you, disrespects me and goes scot-free. You are not my wife, Zaahida," he hissed. "I need you to get that into that thick brain of yours. And even if you were, you can't talk back at me. Not at all." "I may have tolerated and ignored your craziness, for the past few days, but that's not how I always am. Hec
Since the doctor's pronunciation of a successful surgery, Zynah couldn't contain her nervousness. She was happy, undoubtedly, but at the same time, apprehensive to see her son for the first time after abandoning him for three long years. She knew the boy wouldn't recognize her as his mother, but that was okay, as long as he wouldn't end up hating her. She believed it was not to late to introduce herself to him. Zynah was still engrossed in her thoughts when Mr. Aliyu approached her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I have noticed you look troubled. Is everything okay with you?" "No, dad," Zynah admitted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Mr. Aliyu took a seat beside her, his presence a silent source of comfort. "Should I call the doctor? Why did you even leave your room when you're not perfectly fine yet?" "Dad," She called, a lone tear finally escaping her eye. "It's not about that. It's about... him." Mr. Aliyu's face scrunched up in confusion. "Who? "Ad...A
One week had passed since Bilal physically assaulted Zaahida. Standing in front of the mirror, she stared back at her reflection. The bruises Bilal had inflicted on her had begun to fade. Her eyes weren't as swollen as they were a few days back. Zaahida adjusted her head tie around her head, and as usual, began to conceal the still visible scars with make-up, to prevent her family from finding out. She felt it was unnecessary to tell them because they wouldn't think twice about calling off the wedding. And she didn't want that. The mere thought of losing Bilal even after what he did was appalling. She felt it was all her fault, and a mistake on Bilal's side. She shouldn't have provoked him like she did. After the call with Mr. Idris, he had asked her what she did to Bilal, and even suggested that she apologized to him, just for peace to reign. But she hadn't done it yet. Bilal wasn't even speaking or looking her way. She was scared to even approach him. The memory of the last
Zynah waited for Ibrahim to say a word. Anything. But his lips remained sealed. Her lips curved into another knowing smile. "I knew you'd have that... disgusted expression. That's why I didn't want you to know, but I will understand you if you want nothing to do with me anymore after today." Ibrahim opened his mouth to say something, but no word emerged. He stood there like a zombie, gawking at her. "Bye. You can leave if you want to. I have said what I had to say," Zynah said, turning her back on him. "Wait..." Ibrahim's voice trailed. "What expression are you even talking about?" Zynah turned back to face him. "You don't exactly need to say it in words for me to understand. Don't worry, I didn't expect you to be happy anyway." Ibrahim took in a deep breath. "You're getting me wrong. I didn't say anything because... because I was surprised and—" he paused. "Zynah, I have absolutely no reason to be disgusted. I was surprised, but I'm glad you decided to tell me. You
Zaahida couldn't contain her happiness. She was finally going to be married to Bilal tomorrow. Her lips curved into another smirk. After their marriage, she would do everything in her power to tame him. To make him realize that she was much wiser than his first wife. "Hey, Zaahida," Nazmeera called, walking into the room. Zaahida gazed at her with a smile plastered on he face. "Yes, sister in law?" Nazmeera sat beside her on the bed. "I just wanted to have a word with you. Do you think we can do that right now? "Of course," Zaahida replied, furrowing her brows. "You sound serious. I hope it's not something bad." Nazmeera shook her head. "It's about your marriage with Bilal..." she started but stopped mid sentence. Zaahida's worried demeanor morphed into excitement. "What about it?" Nazmeera heaved a sigh, before finally blurting out the question. "Are you sure you want to go ahead with it?" Zaahida suppressed the urge to burst into la hysterical laughter. "Are
Closing the door behind her, Zynah let loose the tears she had been suppressing while in Hafsa's room. Even at such a tender age, he seemed to be aware of what she had done to him. She wondered what she had to do to make him accept her. She had asked Ramlah about his favorite things, and had been doing it to get him to like her, but her efforts seemed futile. Zynah didn't return to her room. Instead, she returned to Adnan's. She wanted to feel his presence. Stepping into the room, she began to go through his stuff - his clothes, toys and even his books. A sad smile crept up her lips as she saw his drawings. It practically didn't make any sense, but for a boy his age, he actually made a good effort. She was supposed to be the first person to teach him how to hold a pen. But she wasn't. She wasn't even there when he said his first word. She wasn't there when he took his first steps either. There and then, Zynah realized just how much she had missed out on her son's life. But i
"Bilal! Open the door, Bilal!" Mr. Idris banged on his door with his fists repeatedly. "Don't do this, Bilal! Open the door right now!" "Dad, please calm down," Nazmeera pleaded, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why are you shouting?" "Calm down?" He roared. "How can I calm down, Nazmeera? Today is his wedding and he has locked himself up in his room. How am I even sure he's in there? What am I going to tell our relatives? What will Zaahida's parents say? Poor girl." "Dad, don't worry, I'm going to convince him to open the door," Nazmeera reassured. "Just go. The guests are waiting for you." "You better make sure he appears there in thirty minutes. Anything later than that, he's going to witness my wrath," Mr. Idris hissed before storming away. Seated on his bed, Bilal wrapped his hands around his head. He was suffering from a terrible migraine and his family were only adding to it. He had made it clear to them that he didn't want to get married to Zaahida, or anyone
"Where is my husband?" Zaahida walked up to Nazmeera and asked. After the commotion that took place before the wedding, she had been keeping an eye on him. She never knew when he would decide to leave. Their marriage wouldn't be able to stop him — she knew. But it was only for the time being. She promised to make him fall head over heels for her, and not only that, she was hellbent on wrapping him around her little finger. He was her husband now. Hers. The thought make her lips stretch into a smile. "He's left already," Nazmeera replied. "He did immediately after the wedding fatiha." Zaahida hissed. "He left? Where did he go to? Why did you allow him leave? Why didn't you stop hi—" "Zaahida!" Nazmeera's high-pitched voice cut her off. She placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down. Why are you getting angry now? You've won. Bilal is now yours." Zaahida shrugged Nazmeera's hand away. "I know, but I can't calm down, Nazmeera! I need to know where he is. I'm leaving." "Wait