Chapter 3.
The air at breakfast the following morning was still thick with tension. The unnoticeable staff had set out the usual Sunday morning breakfast buffet on the sunny patio next to the pool before disappearing back into the house. Asad didn't like distractions on Sunday mornings, so he preferred not to see the staff and usually, even though he insisted Zoya have all meals with him for "appearances" sake, he ignored her in favor of his Sunday Times. That morning, despite the fact that he had the usual barrier of his newspaper up between him and the rest of the world, meaning her, she could all but feel his fury. Finally, after an unbearably tense half an hour, he balled the paper up between his fists and tossed it aside before glaring at her across the glass table.
"I want to know exactly where you were yesterday, Zoya," he demanded fiercely.
"Why do you even care?" She asked tiredly.
"You've certainly disappeared without explanation enough times for the both of us."
"We're not talking about me here," he pointed out.
"No but I think it's time we do talk about your outrageous behavior, about the other women and the obvious disregard for the fact that you're married!"
"I don't feel married!" He sounded almost defensive.
"No?" She retorted recklessly. "Well maybe I don't feel married either! Maybe I'm ready to be outrageous. Maybe I'm ready for other men and extra marital affairs too!"
"This had better not be your way of telling me that you were with another man last night, Zoya," he warned ominously, his voice quite calm. Zoya recklessly ignored the warning in his voice and plunged on regardless.
"So what if that's exactly what I'm telling you?" She asked daringly. "What will you do about it? Make my life hell? Well surprise surprise... it's already hell! Do your worst!"
"What's his name?" He insisted in a lethally calm voice that sent an involuntary shudder down her spine. She suddenly recognized that she had pushed him too far but she knew that even if she backed down now, it wouldn't assuage his anger.
"Zoya, who the hell is he?"
Even though Zoya knew that he would never physically harm her, she couldn't help but
feel an instinctive shiver of fear. She knew that he had a tight leash on his temper but right now that leash seemed strained to breaking point.
"I... I was speaking hypothetically," she stuttered, abandoning all pretence of bravado and feeling unbelievably intimidated.
"I don't believe you," he bit out furiously.
"I wasn't with anybody, I just needed a break!"
"A break..." he repeated with flat contempt.
"Yes a break! A break from you and from this life... I don't want to be in this marriage anymore. I want out... I want away from you! Please... I just want a divorce, Asad. Please."
"You'll get your divorce when I get my son," he reminded ruthlessly.
"That's so sick," she protested. "Why would you even want a child with a woman you despise?"
He didn't respond, instead he sent an odd probing little look over her strained face.
"You honestly don't know, do you?" he breathed in disbelief and she blinked in confusion.
"Know what?" She asked blankly, distracted by the rapt look on his face. Again he didn't reply.
"Know what?"
"Why did you marry me?" He asked suddenly.
"You know why..." she was outraged by the way he was rubbing salt in the wound unable to believe, even after a year and a half of similar treatment, that he could be so cruel.
"Humour me," he prompted and she exhaled shakily, before getting up with as much dignity as she could muster. She felt shaky and nauseous and couldn't stomach being around him anymore. She took an unsteady step away from the table, swaying so badly that he jumped up and clasped one large hand around her slender arm to steady her.
"Zoya?" He sounded almost shaken.
"I'm fine," she shrugged off his hand. "I just got up too quickly. Now please excuse me, I have things to do!"
"Wait..." he said urgently. "I asked you a question."
"A stupid question that you already know the answer to," she retorted.
"Maybe I'd like to hear the answer again," he was being a total ass about this and not for the first time in her life, Zoya felt like hitting him.
"Oh, God, why do you insist on doing this?" She groaned.
"You really loved me, didn't you?" He breathed in amazement and she shot him a haunted look before turning away.
"You may rest assured that whatever I felt for you a year ago is no longer an issue. I want a divorce, nothing you do or say can induce me to stay with you..." she insisted and he surprised her by nodding thoughtfully.
"Yes. I'm beginning to realise that," he acknowledged softly. There was nothing more to be said and she left the room with her head held high and her dignity intact.
She was a mass of nerves when she finally got to the bedroom and sank down on the bed, feeling quivery and still vaguely nauseous. She felt like she had just gone ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer but she also felt like he had actually listened to her and that she had made some headway. Feeling like she needed to speak to someone about what had just happened, she picked up the telephone receiver from its cradle
on the nightstand but she was taken aback to hear ringing on the other end. Realising that Asad was on the extension downstairs she was about to put the phone down when the ringing stopped abruptly.
"Gaffur Siddiqui," her father's voice snapped into her ear and her eyes widened in shock. Asad and her father did not get along and she was surprised to realise that Asad had actually willingly called the older man. More than a little curious, she hesitated before replacing the receiver but that brief hesitation proved to be enough to keep her frozen to the phone.
"Your daughter wants a divorce," was his opening statement and Zoya's fingers tightened around the phone.
"What are you talking about? Divorce is not an option and you know that!" Her father astounded her by responding.
"Yes," Asad's voice was dryer than the desert in summer. "I know that but it appears that she does not. You didn't tell her about our agreement?" What agreement?
"Of course not," Gaffur Siddiqui scoffed contemptuously. "She would never have married you if I had, the little fool fancied herself in love
with you!" Her father laughed harshly and Zoya winced. Her free arm wrapped around her midriff as she tried to keep her nausea at bay. Asad did not react to her father's last statement.
"I thought she knew... that she'd gone into this marriage consenting to sell herself for the sake of your sadistic little contract. Daddy's good little girl to the very end!" He finally said after a long pause.
"Would it have changed your mind if you'd known you were marrying a naive little fool, who thought you epitomized her every dream come true?"
"And she has no idea what the terms of our agreement are?" Asad finally asked slowly.
"Well I assumed she would discover them from you eventually..."
"Are you telling me that she married me believing that I was in love with her?" He sounded humiliatingly incredulous that Zoya would ever have believed him in love with her.
"Of course," her father snorted, she could practically hear the careless shrug in her words.
"And you just went ahead and let her believe that?"
"I know it was a ridiculous assumption on her part but it played right into our hands. It was like watching a sleepy kitten fall in love with a roaring lion," her father laughed, he actually laughed, after saying that. "But I doubt she would have married you otherwise."
"Played into our hands'? There's no us here, Siddiqui. I had nothing to do with your obscene little scheme."
"Oh spare me your preachy talk, Asad..." her father scoffed. "It smacks of hypocrisy when you gained a hell of a lot out of this deal. And even if you'd known about Zoya's expectations it would have made no difference to the eventual outcome. You know that as well as I do."
"She's your daughter!" Asad suddenly roared furiously. "That should have meant something to you."
"Of course it meant something to me... it meant that she could at last be of some use to me! Her role in my life is now quite vital. So you'd better keep her happy, get her pregnant and stop her jabbering about divorce. You know what you stand to lose if your marriage dissolves before I get what I want."
"I had a life before this ridiculous arrangement... and I would like to get back to it at some point," Asad finally intoned and Zoya bit her lip hard to stop herself from crying out at the knowledge that her husband had always considered their marriage to be something outside of his real life! She had never met his family, all of whom lived in India. He visited them every second month for at least two weeks and never bothered asking her to join him. Of course he had never wanted them to meet her, not when she was just his "temporary" and unwanted wife.
"Well you know what it would take to get out and I'm amazed that it's taken you so long to accomplish that task." Asad remained silent.
"You know we had a setback, it's been difficult to recover from that!" He finally responded. Zoya's brow furrowed and her sweaty hand tightened around the receiver which was practically welded to her ear. She tried to figure out what they were talking about... what was this goal that would set her free? It had something to do with a mutual business interest if the conversation was anything to go by. She would do anything to help Asad accomplish whatever he needed to if it meant she could get out sooner. And once she was free she would walk away from them both and never look back.
"Yes... that damned girl can't do anything right, can she?" Her father suddenly grated and Zoya's head came up when she realized that they were talking about her. What on earth did... "The one thing you'd expect the woman to be able to do and she screwed even that." Ya Allah! Zoya finally realized what they had been referring to in such dry, legal terms and she nearly doubled over in pain.
"No-one was to blame for what happened," Asad shocked her by saying. "It was just one of those things..."
"Regardless," her father dismissed. "Give me a grandson fast and be done with it. Surely the task shouldn't be too difficult for a handsome young man like you? After that, you're most welcome to obtain your divorce and live happily ever after with that Mahek woman of yours. The Love of your Life that's what the Press once called her, right?"
Mahek? Zoya didn't know what to process first, the fact that this whole marriage had been about her being a breeder for whatever sick goal they had in mind, or the fact that Asad had been/was(?) in love with another woman. Both bits of information hurt so much that Zoya felt like she had been physically assaulted. She'd always assumed that Asad's desire for a son was fueled by his Indian male ego; the need to propagate his seed and all that. The thought that it was part of some kind of bargain that he had made with her father had never even crossed her mind! Even though she had hated the way he could never touch her without that ultimate goal in mind, she had always believed that it was something he wanted; a son to carry on his name and an heir to inherit his fortune. Instead the baby would only ever have been a way for him to gain his freedom and carry on his life with Mahek.
But what was supposed to happen to her and the baby once Asad had fulfilled his end of the bargain? Would he simply leave and forget about them? The one thing she had never doubted was that if Asad wanted a son, he would love the child. Now she wasn't even sure of that! Asad seemed to despise her so much she now knew that even though any baby they had would carry his name, it would ultimately be neglected and unloved by its father just like she had been by hers. She couldn't allow that to happen... this made her even more determined not to have a child.
As for her father's role in all this, she certainly knew why he wanted a grandson, absolutely no mystery there! He had always showed grief for not having a son to carry on his name and his business. Zoya had never been good enough to inherit, he had always made that quite clear but she had never realized how far he would go to ensure a male heir.
She was so wrapped up in her painful thoughts that it took her a while to register the low buzzing in her ear and realize that the two men had disconnected their call. She very carefully, as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, replaced the receiver in its cradle and sat quite still for a long time before suddenly exploding into action and dashing to the en-suite bathroom where she violently threw up the meagre portion she had had for breakfast.
After she was done she rinsed her mouth and headed back to the bedroom and crawled into the centre of the huge bed, where she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her hands. She was hurting too much to even cry and was shaking so badly that her teeth were chattering. She didn't know what to do or where to turn. She needed to get out of this situation, as far away from both of them as she possibly could. Possible solutions and scenarios kept marching their way through her traumatized mind but nothing viable presented itself. There was still Asad's threat against Humeira's business to consider, she also had no real money of her own and she knew that with their considerable resources her father and husband would find her before she could get very far.
She was still mulling it over when a soft knock sounded on the bedroom door. It swung open before she could respond and her big, dark, beautiful husband stood framed in the doorway. His eyes swept over her small, disheveled form as she sat in the middle of the bed, her knees still drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her folded legs.
"You've been in here for nearly three hours,
Zoya," he said in a quiet voice. It was the kind of voice one would use when talking to an unbroken, high-strung horse. Three hours? Zoya hadn't realized that it had been that long and when she moved, her muscles screamed in protest. She had actually been sitting in one position for nearly that long. She slowly and with visible effort stretched her arms and legs, trying not to wince in agony as her blood started circulating more freely.
"I didn't realize," she murmured, pushing
her long hair out of her eyes. "I was going to visit Humeira."
"Why?" He asked sharply and she shrugged.
"Something to do," was her casual response.
"I thought..." He hesitated and Zoya's eyes snapped up to his face in surprise, the hesitation was so unusual in her supremely confident husband. "I thought we could have lunch together... go out somewhere. We haven't done that in a while."
"Try never," she half-laughed incredulously and his brows beetled slightly.
"Of course we have..." he began.
"Once," she nodded. "About a month before we were married. I remember that once quite vividly because I felt like a heroine in my own personal fairytale. The giddy, foolish, not-quite-so-fair maiden having a meal with her dark, broody, oh-so-handsome prince who couldn't be bothered to string together two sentences the entire time and checked his watch every five minutes like he had someplace much more important to be. But of course, I didn't care, that was just the way you were and I loved'..." she sneered "the word. "...you anyway. We never went out again after that."
"Of course we did," despite his assertion, he looked remarkably uncomfortable; he shifted his shoulders restlessly and shoved his hands into his jean pockets.
"Those other times were official work-related dinners, the ones you have to take your wife to."
He frowned even more but chose not to respond to her statement.
"Well, then I'd say it's about time we went out together don't you?" He asked in an artificially cheerful voice and Zoya slanted her head as she tried to read his expression. As usual he was giving nothing away.
Her lips tilted slightly in a cynical and unamused smile. "I don't think so, Asad," she shook her head. "I think I'll go to my cousin's place like I'd originally planned."
He nodded thoughtfully, swaying back and forth on his heels in an uncharacteristically restless manner.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "What time were you planning to leave?"
"Soon."
"Right," he shrugged again looking strangely awkward. "See you later then." She nodded and he turned away and left without saying another word."
Anupamaa
Jhanak
Cricket
Kumkum Bhagya
47