AsYa FF - Devotion [Updated Chapter 4B/p24](24/08) - Page 9

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CHAPTER IV: Dilemma

The next week was awful as Asad and Zoya both attempted to tell Ammi and Najmah in their own way about their decision. Considering that he had supposedly, only agreed to the wedding for the sake of his mother's happiness, it was eating away at his conscience that he had not even sought his mother's permission before agreeing to the marriage. While he knew that she would not be displeased by their decision to get married, he knew it was wrong of him to say yes, without consulting his mother. But he had already given his word and he would marry Zoya under any circumstance. He just had to break the news to his family now.

"Should be a piece of cake", he had said derisively. With every passing day, Asad's guilt doubled, he felt like he couldn't look his mother in the eye when she spoke to him and as much as he wanted to tell her, he just couldn't find the right time or the right words. How does one simply tell their mother that they have decided to get married? It was dreadfully tactless and just not him. He had never imagined being in such a position. Asad had always thought that when - if he did ever decided to get married, it would be an arranged marriage with a woman of his mother's choice. Never, even in his wildest dream, had he ever thought that he would be in such a fix - having decided to marry someone, without his mother's knowledge or express approval. Marrying a woman, he actually cared about.

Beyond frustrated, he knew he couldn't really expect Zoya to be the one to tell his family. Not that he didn't think she could do it, because he knew she could, it was just that he was a bit wary of what scheme she might come up with in order to get the truth out in the open.

They had eventually told their family in the end, but it had been a right drama along the way. It would have been so much simpler, if they could have all sat down together and just talked it out and although it would have undoubtedly been the most awkward conversation of his life, it would have probably spared them a whole lot of trouble and embarrassment in the long term.

For her part, Zoya was beyond mortified with herself after the initial adrenaline had eventually worn off. She had to have been possessed that day. What had made her desperate enough to go to Asad and ask him to marry her? She had been unusually depressed that morning and had relied on the one person who she knew, would never turn her away. She didn't regret the outcome one bit and neither did she regret what she had done. She just wished she had been a bit more poised and prepared before she pounced on him. It would have made the matter a little dignified she supposed, or it could have also gone the other way and led to his rejection which would have been much more humiliating. Either way, it had all worked out well in the end.

Now recalling the hectic week, Zoya giggled uncontrollably. Trying to tell Ammi and Najmah had been a real comedy of errors. It was a historic week in their lives. It was a week of pure hell and hilarity but eventually - it was a memorable week that had blessed them all, with great happiness.

***

On the first night, only a few hours after the 'proposal' at his office, Asad returned home late with all intent and purpose to avoid everyone. He was almost tempted to take Ayaan's way and climb through his bedroom window, so that his mother and neither Najmah nor Zoya would know he was at home. But it seemed kind of pathetic. Asad wondered if his mother and sister had been informed already about their decision, but it didn't seem likely since nobody had called to berate or congratulate him yet.

And so, looking as cool and collected as he could, he strolled tenaciously through the foyer aiming to go straight to his room without looking left or right. He was so determined to avoid everyone that he failed to notice Zoya right in front of him.

Zoya had been on cloud nine all afternoon, randomly bursting into song now and then. Phuppi and Najmah had been casting curious looks at her now and then, but Zoya simply couldn't contain her excitement. Anxious eyes kept drifting back to the clock, her heart on a constant high as she waited for Asad to return. She tried to distract herself by keeping herself occupied, but it was fruitless for everywhere she looked, everything she did reminded her of Asad.

She had been setting the table for dinner and even though her mind was still preoccupied, it was almost as if her instincts were fine-tuned to sense his presence. She had felt him arrive, even before he had walked through the door, but still she did not have enough time to collect herself, before she had to face him.

Zoya dropped Asad's favourite china plates the instant her eyes fell upon him. Immediately alert, Asad looked up, seeking the source of the crash, but he froze once his eyes met Zoya's. Her dark, kohl-lined eyes held him captive and for what seemed like an eternity, neither Asad nor Zoya blinked as they stared at each other from across the room.

The moment was only broken when Dilshaad came rushing to see the cause of the commotion and called for the maid to clean up the mess. Asad and Zoya nervously looked away before Zoya ducked under the table to help pick up the pieces and Asad quickly disappeared into his bedroom.

Seated in the rumpus room, Najmah looked at them suspiciously. Something just wasn't right here. "Did you see that Ammi? He didn't even yell at her!" Najmah exclaimed, amazed that her brother hadn't seized the opportunity to yell at Zoya when she had just created a ruckus in the kitchen. It was a good thing, she supposed, but it was also highly uncharacteristic.

"He must be in a good mood," Dilshaad brushed it off easily. As long as Asad and Zoya weren't fighting, she was content. She had better things to worry about than a few crockeries, Zoya's rampant mood swings and Asad's brooding. Not that she didn't care, after all Asad was her beloved son and Zoya, she loved like her own daughter, but honestly those two were always having some sort of disagreement and she had learnt by now that they resolved things in their own way.

At dinner, Asad and Zoya tried to behave normally, but it was really quite useless. Zoya's lame poetry recitals seemed a little meek and Asad's glares at said poetry were half-hearted. Fortunately, Dilshaad was preoccupied with other thoughts and Najmah was too busy eating, to notice the tension between them.

Halfway through dinner though, Dilshaad suddenly perked up as she remembered their breakfast conversation. "Asad, your secretary didn't fax any details about any possible matches for our Zoya."

"Actually, Phuppi I need to talk to you about that." Zoya jumped in quickly, before Asad could give them away. The man just didn't know how to lie and especially not to his mother and this was an issue that needed to be handled with tact. And after all, she had told him that she would be the one to inform everyone and Zoya was a woman who kept her word.

Asad looked at her stricken, his shoulders tense and jaw taut. This girl was seriously going to land them in trouble today.

"I spoke to him about it today and we decided...I mean I decided that...we want to," She stammered, trying to find the right words to tell her about their agreement, but seeing Asad's disgruntled expression, she hesitated and at the last minute, Zoya's resolve faltered. "Wait. I mean, I want to wait until my visa problem is solved before thinking about marriage." She covered up quickly and fortunately for her, Phuppi didn't press the issue and Asad looked slightly relieved.

Later that night, Zoya was watching some awful soap on television when she saw Najmah bustling around in the kitchen.

"Hey Najmah, what are you doing?" Zoya asked her and Najmah smiled back at her brightly.

"Oh hey, I'm just going to give Bhai-jaan his coffee and then maybe - " She was going to ask Zoya if she wanted to watch a movie in her room, but Zoya cut in before Najmah could even put the words together.

"Here, why don't you let me do that?" Zoya grabbed the tray from Najmah's hands. "I'll go give Asad his coffee, why don't you go and watch TV or - water the garden!" She said hastily, nudging Najma towards the alfresco, before scuttling off purposefully towards the lion's den.

"Water the garden?" Najmah echoed, shaking her head in confusion, "at this time?"

Curiously watching Zoya make her way into Asad's bedroom, Najmah pondered Zoya's behaviour. She had been peculiarly cheerful all afternoon, Najmah had noticed. There was slight lilt in her voice, added bounce in her step and more sparkle in her eyes. Najmah had questioned her about it, but Zoya would not share the source of her excitement, totally avoiding the issue.

And then her eyes widened comically in realisation. "Did Zoya just call Bhai-jaan, Asad?"

Her mother was walking past and Najmah quickly reached out to grab her by the elbow. "Ammi, since when are Bhai-jaan and Zoya on a first name basis?"

"That'll be the day," Dilshaad snorted. Those two were constantly at each other's throats; the likelihood of them reaching any sort of mutual understanding was too much to hope for. Although, she had noticed that lately they hadn't been squabbling as much, but she didn't give it much thought since Asad and Zoya were both incredibly moody.

"Where is Zoya anyway?" Dilshaad looked around. The house was too quiet, too calm and she didn't like it one bit, for it meant that Zoya wasn't at her best. Zoya brought so much life, laughter to this house. She had turned their house into a home. The difference was little, but the distinction profound.

Najmah gestured towards Asad's room and Dilshaad stared at her blankly for a brief moment. They looked back at the closed bedroom door and wondered what could possibly be going on in there.

***

For once the silence of his bedroom, did not feel peaceful. Silence was supposed to consume feeling, then why did it only amplify his? Why did being alone feel wrong? Since when had commotion become comforting? He didn't have the answers and nor did he want them, for he was wary of the implications of such a revelation, particularly because he knew that it all came back to the one person who was currently invading his dreams and plundering his peace.

Zoya - the woman, he was going to marry. She was constantly on his mind. His interest hadn't developed in a day, but ever since their confrontation in his office, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Asad was fascinated with Zoya's every movement --the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, or nibbled on her plump lower lip, when deep in thought. Her dimpled smile and sparkling eyes - it was all he could think about and it was driving him insane. There was something wrong with him. He had to have been ill for he felt flushed and overheated. Even his bloody heart was beating at an irrational pace. It was concerning, because he was only twenty-six and no-one in his family had a history of heart problems. It had to be something more major than a heart disease, especially since Zoya seemed to be the cause and the cure for his malaise.

These feelings were infuriating and he was losing hours of work and sleep but no matter what he did, he was too distracted by his thoughts. The panic was beginning to build within him and so he did what he did best. He yelled at the ever loyal Prasad.

"How reliable is your source Prasad? And the likelihood of depreciation? Invest three million tonight. No, not dollars. Pounds. If the leak is false, it won't be a huge loss." He paced back and forth in his room. Now these were issues that he could solve. Concrete, complicated and totally solvable problems.

Suddenly he heard his door open and he turned around to see Zoya, carrying a mug, and wearing her famous smile.

"Prasad, I'll call you back." He snapped his phone shut and glowered at her, watching as her nervous smile melted away to be replaced with a slight frown of confusion.

"What are you doing here?" Asad asked her sharply. He didn't want to see her at the moment. Too much had happened in too little time and he needed his space to sort out his feelings. Zoya only added to the confusion. But at the same time, he knew that without her, he would succumb to the emptiness. He would sink into the accustomed frostiness he'd existed in for years until she came with her warm heart and melted it away. And it felt wrong, like after having heard music going back to a world of silence, but it felt safe. It was a familiar and controllable. He didn't want to hurt her, but perhaps it was the only way.

Even though she was bothered by his tone, Zoya marched straight up to him with determination. She held out the coffee mug and stared at him defiantly. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? I'm delivering your coffee and anyway this is practically my room now." She declared bravely. She was confident because she knew her rights and as far as she was concerned, Asad himself had given it to her.

Asad paled at the prospect. Goodness, he hadn't even considered that yet. After they got married, she would be permanently shifting into his bedroom. The idea frightened him out of his wits. How could it have escaped his mind that being married to Zoya meant that he would be sharing a lot more than just his home and his family with her? It was kind of convoluted really, he was almost prepared to share his pain, his loneliness with her, but the idea of them sharing a room - a bed, worried him.

She was a beautiful woman, there was no denying that, but could he assume an intimate relationship with a woman he hadn't any romantic inclinations for? Maybe he could, but would it be right? It was against his morals, but at the same time, being with her was a husbandly duty. This was so confusing.

"I'd like to see you explain that to Ammi." He huffed, taking the steaming mug from her and setting it on his bedside table. He sat down on his bed and stared at his laptop screen. They were far beyond formalities now, considering that Zoya had just staked her claim on his bedroom.

"I don't even know why you're being so shy about this! Isn't this what Phuppi wanted?" Zoya ungracefully plopped herself onto his bed next to him and turned to face him, looking put out. Why wasn't he paying any attention to her?

"Well, I don't see you going over to tell her." Asad quickly got up and opened his windows. Anything to not have to look at her, because even the sight of her made him weak. He was being so immature and he knew it too.

"You're the man in this relationship and you're her son! It's your responsibility!" She argued. It was a feeble argument, but perhaps a salient point. She felt guilty for having put him in such a position. She felt bad for having taken such a huge step in their relationship without having discussed it with his mother, but it was done and they couldn't un-ring the bell. But she did want to give him the opportunity to rectify his mistake.

Asad was exasperated. Didn't she see that this was exactly why he couldn't tell his mother? Because he was her son and it was his responsibility to let his mother find him, his bride. He shouldn't have to be informing his mother about his wedding. The irony was staggering.

"I can't just go up to her and say, I've suddenly decided to marry Zoya." He explained. His patience was wearing thin, as he was consumed by the seriousness of their situation and her refusal to see it from his perspective.

"And why not?!" Zoya asked. She found that he was being unreasonably, especially because it was Asad's mother who had asked them to consider each other in the first place. Hadn't Phuppi encouraged them upon hearing Najmah's suggestion? Then what was Asad's problem?

"I don't know, maybe because we're supposed to hate each other. Maybe because we're not supposed to be together! Maybe because I should have let my mother know before we agreed! Take your pick!" Asad threw his hands in the air, finally releasing his pent up frustrations in his furious rant.

Zoya was stunned by his outburst. It crushed her to hear him say those words. It hurt so much, she felt her eyes darken. And once again she felt alone, utterly and completely alone. When she had come to see him tonight, she hadn't expected him to welcome her with open arms. She didn't expect him to profess his undying affections to her, nor did she expect him to be remotely friendly towards her. But she had expected understanding, and it was not there tonight.

Asad could read her expression. Hurt. Good, he'd meant to hurt her. Keep her at a distance. It was better this way, easier to keep himself grounded. But if that was the case, then why did he turn away when he saw her face fall. Why was he afraid of her tears? Being with her would bring her pain, but he realised that distancing himself from her, tormented her more and the agony was his as well. And yet again, he was confused. Why did the thought of being apart, make him want to wretch?

Zoya was equally conflicted. Why was he doing this to her? More importantly why did it hurt so much? She should be used to this by now, this imbalance in their relationship. She should be used to his extended emotional withdrawal by now, but she supposed that she had wanted to see him be more open with her and finding him still so unaffected made her upset.

They were both quiet for a long time, Zoya struggling to find her voice and Asad struggling to find the words.

When she finally spoke, her voice was cracked and broken. "Do you regret it, Asad?"

She looked up at him with large, glistening eyes filled with unshed tears and he felt like he stopped breathing for a second. The moment was suspended in time, and he knew that one word could make or break them.

"No," He breathed softly. He could lie to himself, but he couldn't lie to her. Not when she was already so hurt. Hadn't he given her enough tears, enough heartache already?

She nodded slightly, but didn't respond. The panic that had been threatening to overcome her, had subsided with his affirmation but still she felt anxious and exhausted.

After another extended bout of silence, Zoya got up to leave, just as Asad moved towards her. She collided with him and yelped loudly. Caught off guard, Asad instinctively tried to steady her, but lost his own footing and they both stumbled over his ottoman and fell back onto his bed.

Asad had Zoya lying on top of him. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks flushed. Asad inhaled sharply, he could feel her soft curves against him and he couldn't help but let a soft moan escape.

Her eyes shot open at the sound. She couldn't tell whether it belonged to him or her. They were so close, she could almost taste him and impulsively, she leaned into him. She wasn't entirely too sure what she wanted, but she knew that for the longest time now, her senses had craved him, his touch.

Hidden from view, caught up in the delightful fragrance of vanilla, the long silk curtain of her hair, and the smoky kohl of her eyes, he found himself leaning in to taste the sweetness of her full lips. Her eyes fluttered shut again, pulse racing in anticipation, and just as she felt his breath against her lips, the door abruptly burst open.

"Ya Allah, what's going on in here?" Dilshaad shrieked. Never for the life of her, had she imagined to find her son in bed with Zoya in such a compromising position. She felt a bit faint.

Najmah stood behind her, trying to push her out of the way so she could see better. They sure looked comfortable like that, Najmah grinned at her brother and Zoya, who were both quickly turning red.

"Nothing, Ammi!" Asad said quickly, gently shoving Zoya off him.

"Nothing Phuppi!." Zoya replied hastily, scrambling to her feet.

"We bumped into each other." Asad said. "By accident," he clarified quickly when his mother didn't look convinced.

"So why was she on top of you?" Najmah smirked. This was so entertaining, seeing her brother trying to explain himself. It didn't happen too often after all.

Asad and Zoya both glared at her.

***

Dilshaad was enjoying a lazy Saturday afternoon, reading the latest edition of her favourite magazine, while her children battled it out on a chessboard. The house was eerily calm as Zoya indulged in her weekly shopping spree at the local mall.

There was an intense clash taking place, and both Asad and Najmah were dead silent as they keenly plotted away. Though she was otherwise rather innocent, Najmah had all the nefarious moves when they were playing chess but even then she was never able to outwit her elder brother. They were at the penultimate stages of their game when their unwavering concentration was momentarily broken by loud, cheerful singing.

"Oh Phuppi, the boutiques were having a clearance sale today. I found the most beautiful sarees, and so I bought some for all of us!" Zoya happily waved her shopping bags at them and Najmah and Dilshaad both smiled at her in appreciation.

She was beaming as she approached them and then her eyes fell on Asad, who was valiantly trying not to look at her. Zoya dropped her shopping bags.

"Oh, except you. I didn't think you're into all that." She blurted out awkwardly. Mentally cursing herself for her obviousness, she tried not stare at him, but goodness, that man was seriously attractive. His high cheekbones, the aquiline nose, his strong, defined jaw line made her long to caress his sharp features. She wanted nothing more than to learn him with her hands, to memorise every line with her fingers.

She forced herself to look away when Asad stared back at her.

"How considerate of you," He half-scowled. For some bizarre reason, he couldn't seem to be able take his eyes off of her. There was nothing particularly different about her today. She was still in her trademark denims, her dimpled smile in place.

Asad studied her, trying to pinpoint the reason for his intrigue and found nothing out of the ordinary, except her hair.

Her long hair was pulled back in an elegant braid. Her hair, her glorious hair. He'd always adored it. The carefree manner in which she looked after it, tossing it into a loose ponytail or letting it flow liquidly down her back, over her shoulders, the silky tendrils curling around a breast. He wondered what it would feel like clenched in his hands, running his fingers through its length, trailing it across his chest, down his stomach, watch as it coiled and draped over his pillows as they made love.

He spluttered and choked and burst into a series of sporadic, violent coughs at the mental image and in a heartbeat Zoya was at his side, her eyes concerned as she reached out with a glass of water.

"Are you okay?" She asked gently.

"I think I'm having an allergic reaction." Asad managed in between mouthfuls of water.

"What?" She cried out in panic, remembering that awful peanut situation. "But, I made sure myself that we don't have anything with peanut ingredients in our house. I checked." She insisted.

"Peanuts aren't my only allergy." He smirked at her meaningfully. Her jaw fell open and she looked scandalised.

His mother and his sister laughed as Zoya snatched back the empty glass and glared at him in annoyance until he smiled softly with amusement and Zoya's frown was replaced with a little smile of her own.

They didn't need words; they simply gazed at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Without thinking, eyes never leaving Zoya's, he moved his Queen in some vague direction and still they couldn't break away from their gaze.

Dilshaad cleared her throat, not too subtly and both Asad and Zoya averted their eyes nervously.

"I...I think..I should get changed." Zoya hastily fled to her room without a backward glance.

Asad absent-mindedly toyed with his Queen, trying not to think about the insane woman. "Najmah, it's your move."

When Najmah didn't mover, he prodded his sister gently on her arm. Then getting frustrated when he got no response, he took her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. "What's wrong with you?"

Najmah gaped at the chessboard "Bhai-jaan..."

Annoyed, Asad finally looked down and immediately fell quiet. His Queen was surrounded and his King trapped. There was no possible way out. Checkmate. For the first time in his life, he had lost. His Queen had cost him, his game.

But on the bright side though, Asad thought grudgingly, his little sister had won and that was enough cause for celebration. "Well done, Tamatar," Asad patted her affectionately, and Najmah visibly preened at her brother's praise.

And then the tell-tale buzz of Asad's phone disrupted their little gathering. "Talk to me, Prasad," Asad stalked off in the direction of his study room.

Najmah was yet to recover from the shock. "I can't believe I won!"

Dilshaad smiled at her, "Well done beta."

Then Najmah shook her head thoughtfully. "But you know Ammi, something was off with Bhai-jaan just then. It was like he just lost his concentration at the last minute. Maybe Zoya caught him off guard." Najmah shrugged.

"That's it Najmah! You're a genius!" Dilshaad exclaimed. She sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes round with excitement.

"Of course, I am," Najmah agreed amiably, and then turned in confusion. "But what did I say?"

"Asad lost his focus as soon as Zoya walked in." Dilshaad realised. She was enthralled by the prospect. If it was indeed the case, then the implications were huge.

"Do you think...?" Najmah and Dilshaad exchanged curious glances before both shook their heads in unison.

No, it couldn't be.

Previous Chapter: Chapter III - Decisions

Next Chapter: Chapter IV - Dilemma (Part B)