AsYa: Elastic Heart Pg5 - Page 2

Zoya Farooqi stared at her body in the mirror and began picking out the things she didn't like. Today was not a good day. The self-hate had started the moment she rolled out of bed and found him gone. Her arms were too flabby, ass too dimpled, her stomach had a pooch, even her love handles had some handles. She hated the bags under her eyes more because they were genetic and nothing short of a face lift could fix it. And she couldn't even get botox because she fainted at the sight of needles. What she needed now was a friend, a confidante who could be trusted to lie through his teeth and call her beautiful even when she felt far from it. She dialled the first man who came to mind.

"Ronan", she practically threw herself in his arms.

"This better be important Zo. I kept my husband hanging in the design room".

"I am sorry, I should have asked. It's not that important".

"I am here Zo and you look like shit. Spill!"

Trust that sucker to lay it on thick!

"I feel like shit too".

"I am sure the man who had himself wrapped around your delectable body would say otherwise".

"He just up and left like I am some groupie not his wife. I can't believe Asad sometimes".

"Sometimes? Zo, I can't believe that piece of meat is real any time. Might as well strap on a pair of wings and shoot arrows. He's that f**king angelic".

"Ronan, back to moi".

"What has my woman miserable this fine spring morning?"

"I am too fat".

"Voluptuous".

"Fat, Ronan".

"Sexy Zo".

She grunted in response.

"That's right. Purr for me, little kitty. Show daddy what you got".

"That's creepy Ro".

"Not if it's me Zo".

"I love you Ro".

"I love you more. Now", he clapped his hands together. "Turn around. Slap some water on that face and pull it together. Honey, you are the highest paid model in runway history. You've been walking plus size high fashion before it was a thought in some little designer's head. You are the reigning queen of the industry, you own these bitches, you've got every fashion capital city by the balls! All hail that perfectly pert ass".

He moaned as he put on his best Harry and Sally voice.

"Ronan, you are going to have your husband's baby if keep up that pace".

"Shit", he mused. "I love my dick too much to pass some kid through it. Don't you agree".

"I don't know Ro. I think it's be worth watching you suffer".

She giggled in his arms, the worry of her appearance long forgotten. He used a few kind words and charmed her back like magic. She was smiling and changing into his newest designed lingerie within minutes.

"I was going to give them as a wedding present but I already gave you those. You can have these if you promise to be my headliner for Milan?"

So he consoled her and propositioned her all in one visit? What a conniving bas***d! But a cute one!

"Okay Ronan, you got yourself a deal".

"Great", he fist pumped. "Now. Work it girl!" he hollered as he made himself comfortable in a plush chair, his eyes never faltering from the perfection of his designs displayed on Zoya's well-endowed assets. "Shake that ass for me. Just like that". He loved the laser cut of the thong and the lace detailing shine as she did her signature turn. Her fuller bosoms made the demi cup of the bra look like a push up. How he loved the sequin trimmings showcased just at the right places. This woman had a body that made even trash bags look good. Ronan knew he was in the present of genius when he discovered her five years ago. Now was just a confirmation of his ...f**k! The door fell open within inches of Zoya and he rushed to cover the unsuspecting woman.

A tall, angry looking man hovered close by. No, he raced toward Ronan and swung wildly now. He was yelling at Zoya in between but the ringing in Ronan's ears got too loud. He didn't realize until he was out of the house that he'd been running on adrenaline. That was Zoya's husband, a powerful tycoon, and if he'd sensed the situation any right, his friend could be in grave danger.There was no telling what a heterosexual man would do in the heat of jealousy.

"Asad", Zoya pleaded with him, not knowing what else to do. She'd covered up like he asked but this wasn't her fault, not all of it, but the man wouldn't let her explain. She followed him as he paced up and down the house looking for a suitable target to release his temper on.

"Asad".

"Not one f**king word bitch".

She immediately silenced. Words had always hurt Zoya the most because their scars did not fade, they grew stronger with time, festering painfully loud in the abyss of the internet, stored within the rotten cores of her memory. He'd become just another one of the monsters who deemed her worthless with a word. He called her a bitch. Bitch- a derogatory term for a female dog, a curse word for a woman, an insult for a lesser man. He dehumanized her with one careless slur and she was so deep in her spiral of self-loathing that she did not feel him still to a halt.

"Zoya?" he asked guiltily.

She felt stiff at his side as she continued looking down at her toes.

"Baby, look at me".

"26 times 786 is 20436. 20436 tiles on this floor. 20436 times..."

"Zo? Zo!"

"18 animals from South Africa and 2 from Congo".

Asad raked his hands through her hair trying to get her back to reality. He didn't know what he did wrong but the minute she turned to panic, he knew he was in deep shit. She did that when she was nervous, focus on anything but him. He shook her violently, praying for a reaction.

"CHANGE OF PLAN. CAIRO WILL NO LONGER BE THE CAPITAL OF EGYPT IN 2020".

She was screaming now, hoping to block him out.

"STUPID. STUPID. STUPID. I am STUPID BITCH. STUPID".

Well, hell! He brought this upon himself running that big mouth of his. She covered her ears and kept chanting loudly. He could do little more than hold her close and caress her back until she calmed.

"I am sorry honey. I am so sorry. I don't know why I hurt you. I so sorry".

He closed his eyes and felt hot tears rolling down, stinging his nose and radiating bouts of sharp ache in his chest. He felt like a monster.

"I am so sorry Zo".

He sensed her muscles relax and her breathing even out. She was exhausted and her eyes lidded with sleep. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom. The thoughts of her infidelity were not forgotten, only put aside to care for her safety. He'd ask her again soon.

"I am not sorry", she whispered as he put down his Kindle to find her full awake next to him.

"What?"

"I said I am not sorry for anything that happened yesterday. Ronan is my friend, a fashion designer, and a happily married gay man if you must know. But I would have done the same thing if he wasn't gay. I often have to strip naked to land jobs and I won't stop because I married you. If you can't trust me enough to know that I won't insult our marriage, that's your problem. I gave you my love, trust and respect from the day I made my vows. You owe it to me, to our relationship to at least try to reciprocate. I understand now that I am not worth more than a business transaction to you. I am not okay with that. I want a divorce as soon as our obligatory contract is up".

Who was this woman and what had she done with his submissive little lovelorn wife?