NOTE: '-------' means Zoya's POV ended and the normal third person narration began.
Zoya's POV:
I had felt the walls around me, closing in, threatening to squish me and throw me into a place where people would laugh at my lack of confidence, mock my existance and probably years of studying too. The people who had no idea why my confidence didn't trust me any longer, why it did not want to be a part of me.
In front of the three elegantly suited men, I felt my confidence and pride ebbing away as the sound of clock ticking away clearly nagged my ears. In that moment, I had felt the sweat beads on my forehead slightly dripping downwards. I could feel the sweat beads on my cleavage too. As I stood in front of the men, stammering away to glory, I found myself drifting into the memories of hell. It reminded me of how everyday I would see number of those women stripping in front of men, trying their best to make them like what they saw.
But I could see through them all. I could see the low self esteem, the low confidence behind those alluring smirks they plastered on their faces as they stripped. I could see how their chests heaved up and down, partly because of fear of being judged for their body, something that God had gifted them with. On only a few had I ever seen guilt, but the most prominant factor was always the nervousness. It made me cringe.
My throat went dry as I compared myself to that situation. I never thought I on my own would ever. I had felt my heart besting wildly under my chest. And when the man with an extremely unfriendly demeanour mocked me, I had felt useless. Like I was a good for nothing fabric, the ones they have in clothing shops kept aside after being torn away because they are defected and nobody would want them.
I was a girl who used to give people like him a piece of my mind. But reality and fate had conspired against me to taken away all that. I tried very hard to keep away the tears, for the man who I failed to understand was sharing the same air I was breathing in. Asad Ahmed Khan.
I did not want to make him look bad in front of those men. Mostly because I didn't want to face the aftermath. The man was an enigma. I do not think I had it in me to see him bark at me, and insult me on my face when I had failed to deliver a worth acceptance presentation. I was slowly but surely ebbing away into my memories where I would stand in front of my class and with my head held high, would deliver presentations that would earn me a sound round of applause and some envious eyes who would still manage to gracefully appreciate me. I could see in front of me how my teachers would clap and their eyes would read nothing but pride. Pride of having me as their student.
But that Zoya was dead. Long dead. I stole glances at him, trying to read his face to see what he was thinking of me when the men insulted me. I wanted to know not because I cared, but because I felt alone. I had fought with Ayaan earlier, I did not think I had it in me to face another blow where I would be chided by the man I hated, or atleast tried too hard to hate. My eyes stinged with unshed tears, while a hard lump refused to go down my throat. Do not cry, Zoya. Remember your teachers, you're a strong girl, I kept chanting to myself like a mantra in my head.
Then I felt it. A strong gush of wind in a closed room. I felt my skin contacting with another warm skin, slipping slowly into my hand. And then, gripping it. I turned my face to look at him standing besides me, his eyes shining away even in the darkness. I knew it was him. I could feel it. My heart responded weirdly at his touch, some way I can not explain, but I was afraid too. My mind told me to move away, kick him in the gut and save myself. But my heart told me to let him save me from the prying eyes of those judgemental men in front.
His touch did something I never thought possible. His touch filled every nerve in my body with hope, something I lacked of since I lost my family in that fatal aircrash. I found myself talking, my confidence no more shying away. I found my body relax, my head rising. His cologne did wonders to me, as I discovered my heartbeat erratic enough to make me feel confident. It was new. But scary.
I had tried to move my hand out of his grip, but he had held it firmly. I knew he kept his body as far away from me as possible because I was afriad of him. Maybe he was thoughtful that way. But in that moment, I felt the walls around me widen, turning the room spacious enough for my comfort.
As I spoke about the site, about everything, I kept fighting with my head who kept screaming at me to remove my hand from his. There was also something else that stopped me. I saw a smile linger in the corner of the mouth of the not-so-gentleman who had earlier berated me. I felt his hand holding mine had something to do with it.
But I was liking it. Not his touch. But the confidence I had at that moment, I was loving the feeling of my head raised high, my stomach not churning, the lump in my throat dissapearing. I was loving the fresh air that went into my nostrils and cleared my lungs. I had wanted to feel this way since so long. And I was feeling it now, and I didn't care how. I just wanted it to last. Wanted to be my real self. The Zoya Farooqui which people loved!
The presentation got over, and the men began to leave, Asad Ahmed Khan shaking hands with each one of them and passing a smile at them occasionally. Everyone had smiled at me too when I spoke my last words of the presentation, indicating I did a good job. Then it was gone. He had left my hand, and that temporary feel of life was gone. But I did not want to think about it right now. It felt too illogical. My mind had given up feeling this way a lomg time ago.
'You did a good, job!', I heard him say, his tone stern.
The lights were back on and it was just me and him in the conference room. I simply nodded and turned to leave when his voice made me stop again.
'Wait', he said.
I wanted to go away from there, the nostalgic feeling was getting to me. But he was my boss now, and I had to listen to him till I managed to get a resign.
I turned around and he smiled. I unshamedly stared at his face. I noticed how his jawline curved perfectly as he smiled. How the stubble on his face, made him look more handsome than he already was. I mentally slapped myself and removed the thought. I was indeed messed up!
'Mr. Mehta's case shall be handled by you from now on', he stated simpy, his hands in his pocket.
'No!', I let out, sharply.
The smile on his face, slowly dissapeared, turning into a confused frown, but his eyes reflected he expected that. His eyes weren't surprised at all.
'Excuse me? Why not?', he asked.
'I-I want to quit', I told him, trying to keep away the thoughts of being homeless out on the streets again. I would manage somehow, I told myself.
'Is this a personal decission or a proffessional?', I heard him ask, leaning himself on the desk indoletnly.
'I just want to quit!', I shouted.
I was surprised at myself. Zoya Farooqui was never intimidated by anyone. Then why him? That night was a mistake, Ayaan had repeatedly told me and I felt so too. Then why?
'Personal or professional?', he repeated sardonically.
'Personal', I replied, feeling stupid before I said something stupider to overshadow my previous silly statement. 'I don't want to be anywhere near you!'
I saw him walk slowly towards me, in measured steps, making me take steps backwards. My chest heaved up and down, as he neared me. I saw how his eyes appeared to have a black wall just above the pupil, not allowing me to read them. I was surely imagining it. I was petrified when almost no distance remained between our bodies and the wall behind me made it impossible to draw back anymore.
I turned my head to the other side, closing my eyes, anticipating the worst, when I heard him talk.
'Resignation not accepted'.
I opened my eyes to find him holding the conference door open, far away from me, throwing a deep shade of red on my cheeks for behaving the way I did.
He left the room, leaving me in there all by myself.
I rubbed my temple as I sat in my cabin, the brutal memories coming into my head again. I was seeing things again. His touch had evoked so much in me, which was surprising because it wasn't the first time he had touched me. I shivered at the rough memories that flooded in my mind.
But something unusual had happened in the conference room. Something different. His touch had evoked in me the same feeling the touch of my parents often did when I was nervous before an exam or a competition. Emotions were soon getting the better of me, and I could feel my eyes brimming with tears. My heart clenched at the memories of my family's end. It hurt. I had a headache and I wanted to go back home.
But with Ayaan upset, Asad Ahmed Khan refusing to sign on my resignation, I had no choice, did I?
'Hello, beautiful', I heard someone say.
I lifted my head to see Akshay sitting in front of me. I smiled. He was a nice guy, always sweet. But right now, I didn't want to talk to him. I wanted to be left alone.
'Hi', I reluctantly replied.
'I heard Dilshaad Industries bagged another deal but this time because of you', Akshay said, raising his eyebrows and smirking.
'Something like that', I replied as I rubbed my temple, hoping he would understand and leave.
'I am not surprised AAK chose the pretty lady over Ayaan for the presentation', I heard him say. 'I mean your first day, and you're already one of the special people'.
I felt disgusted at his words. What was he trying to say? Anger rose in my body as I looked at him winking at me asking me how I did so.
'Excuse me?!', I retorted.
'Don't act so innocent', Akshay said throwing himself back on his chair indolently. 'Did you promise him a night or two?'
Tears fell down my face as I heard the man in front of me accuse me of something so low. I had thought of him as a decent man, a nice man. But looked like all my assumptions were proving to be wrong today.
I was not one of them, I was never one of them, my heart screamed.
'Get out of my cabin!', I screamed at him.
'Whoa-', he began but got interupted much to my relief.
I saw Ayaan barge into the room from behind me and grab Akshay's collar. Had he heard everything? Did Ayaan really care? Were they friends again?
'Get out of this room before I make sure even your guts aren't able to let you do that anymore!', Ayaan hissed.
I understood the pun easily.
I felt scared. My mind only replayed the accusation. How could anyone think so low of me? I wasn't like that! How long would it take to prove the world, she was not a prostitute!
-------
'Zoya, you okay?', Ayaan said, his eyes showing the concern.
He was shocked when Zoya ran towards him and crushed him into a hug. He had never been hugged by a girl this tightly except his sister, and it made him nervous. It made him really nervous.
Ayaan placed a hand on Zoya's shoulder to calm her down. He could feel her crying. Ayaan couldn't think of anything else, so he quickly wrapped his arms around Zoya, hugging her back, hoping she would feel better.
**
Asad saw everything play out it in front of his eyes. Zoya's hand clutching Ayaan's jacket from the back, while Ayaan's hand rested on her back, rubbing it. His hands fisted, his jaws clenched while his body shook with rage.
He was on his way back from a round of the office, when he saw Akshay, one of his employees being pushed out of Zoya's cabin by Ayaan who held his collar tightly. This sight shocked him as he grew more and more curious about the situation. He saw Ayaan moving back in the cabin.
'What's happening?', he had asked Akshay, in a stern voice, who had walked forward towards him.
'Ayaan initiated the fight, sir!', Akshay said, shocking Asad.
This was a very unlikely behaviour from Ayaan. He had never done something so unprofessional before, he had thought. Asad walked forward towards Zoya cabin, and the glass wall cabin, had finally come into his sight.
Asad didn't know why but his blood boiled seeing Zoya so comfortable with Ayaan. It reminded him of how she always ran away from near him. And here she was hugging Ayaan, so easily. It angered him.
He didn't know why, but it made him curse himself for that night, for scaring her so much. And it also made him hate Ayaan. One feeling that he secretly thought impossible for he was one man he could trust on with his life.
Asad walked inside the cabin, clearing his throat noisely. He watched as Ayaan and Zoya moved away from each other, Zoya's eyes on the floor as she looked anywhere but him.
She could hug Ayaan but she couldn't even look at him? Was he that cruel? Was he that insensitive? It angered him some more.
'This is a working place!', Asad barked over to Ayaan. 'Can I know why you fought with Akshay?'
'Sir he was being disrespectful to Zoya', Ayaan asnwered back.
One other thing Ayaan rarely did other than one syllable words. But the thought of someone misbehaving with Zoya surprisingly angered him more? But he chose not to show it.
'Ayaan, can I have a word with you?', Asad said in a low tone, not wanting to scare off Zoya, and definitely wanting to take out his anger on Ayaan, his eyes only to Zoya to looked at her feet.
He saw how Zoya smiled sadly at Ayaan before he exited the cabin, making Asad feel even more difficult. Why? He had no idea.
**
'Wonderfully played out, stud', a female voice said on the other end of the phone. 'But you need to hurry up! We don't have much time!'
'I know. You gave me three days. And it shall be done by then. First step has been done, So will I be treated?', he asked sugestively. 'Afterall, the plan is working'.
'Sure, boy', the female voice replied. 'Bring yourself over to be treated'.
He smirked at her seductive tone as he watched Ayaan following Asad to his office, making him feel proud of himself.
**
'Beta, today couldn't be arranged', Rashid said watching Noor's face fall as they conversed through skype. 'But, tomorrow you have a meeting with Asad Ahmed Khan!'
He watched how her face suddenly brightened and she clapped in joy. He loved watching her this happy. She was like a second daughter to him. Always thinking about Najma before her. He was proud of her. And his daughter was blessed to have her as a friend. He thanked Allah.
'Thank you, uncle!', Noor said really grateful. 'I promise, this would have nothing to do with you'.
Noor knew Rashid Ahmed Khan did not want to be a part of this. His son hated him, that was enough pain for him, she thought. Maybe she couldn't do much about that. But she could definitely try on the sister meeting her brother. And that, she would.
She closed her laptop, waving goodbye to Rashid and went over and hugged Najma as she sat in front of the television, not really watching it.
Najma looked over at Noor blankly, at her sudden hug.
'Tomorrow is a new day', was all Noor said before she hugged her best friend again, Najma doing nothing to react.
This is by far the shitty-est update I have ever written and I'm so upset how it turned out. But please bear with it. Next one would be better I promise. Feedbacks please 🤗
P.S this chapter is dedicated to a very sweet reader of mine who's birthday just went by! 😃 ButterflyKisses aka Fari! She turned 13. Happy teenage life ahead, babes. Have a wonderful year! 🤗 Hope you like my little gift. 😆
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