by Zeenat Mahal
Fardeen looked at her with a mild expression, “You wanted it up to a minute ago. I can afford to buy you a present you know.”
As an after-thought? Oh, thank you, kind sir!
Smiling, he came forward, closing the distance between them and whispered, “I just want to get you something special. It’s a special day. It’s the first time you’ve laughed in months. I’d like to hear that sound more often?”
“I don’t find jewelry funny. My humor is awfully cheap.”
Fardeen laughed and said, “Okay. I’ll get it nonetheless. Consider it my way of saying thank you?”
Of course! Mercenary. She was a commodity. Her services were being rewarded.
Making quite a show of looking at it again she said with a shrug, “I don’t think so. As far as I’m concerned today is like every other day, as will be tomorrow and the day after that, and then the day after.”
“Is that so? I’d say don’t be so sure,” chimed in Neha. “The future can be so…unpredictable.”
“On the contrary. Some things are easily predictable. The laws of probability and habit,” Zoella replied.
Fardeen laughed and said, “I totally agree with Zoella. Some things are so obvious and predictable. Some people too.”
His eyes were on Neha and he smiled. She blushed.
What the hell was that? Zoella stared at them. What was going on?
Fardeen turned and, bending towards Zoella, said, “Zoella, please let me. I want to get you something. I never have you know. I realized just now when I was paying for Swaba, I’ve never bought you a present.”
Zoella blinked hard to rid herself of the mist that threatened to become tears and forced herself to smile.
“No Fardeen, you bought me instead. I haven’t forgotten.”
Fardeen’s smile vanished. His eyes hardened, fluttered towards Neha, who tried to hide her smirk.
He sighed and said slowly, “No you haven’t. I’m beginning to think you never will.”
Zoella was indifferent to him now, Fardeen realized with a sinking heart. Was this how it was going to be for the rest of their lives? She’d made his life hell since she became this Mata Hari version of herself, and if he didn’t love her so much he’d put an end to it.
Fardeen faltered in mid-step. He stood immobile. The knowledge hit him like the answer to a problem he’d lived with for a long time. It staggered him. The answer had been there all along, but his brain hadn’t registered it. Now when it did, he didn’t know what to do with it.
He loved her.
He let out a stunned little laugh. He was in love with her. His heart felt lighter all of a sudden, as if something inside him was free again. He was in love with Zoella. She’d made him whole again in so many ways. Her beauty, generosity, strength and, God, the way she played with him. He smiled.
He loved her.
There was just one thing for him to do really. He was going to get her back. All of her. It wasn’t going to be easy. He’d hurt her. And so she was saying things that she wouldn’t normally. Why would she be so rude to him, when he was trying to establish their intimacy in front of Neha? He didn’t blame Zoella though. How could he? He’d extinguished her natural bubbling joy.
Fardeen couldn’t imagine life without her. The very thought of life without her made him hyperventilate. She needed to see that he loved her. Words wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to show her he cared. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. He was going to make that grand gesture Swaba had been talking about.
FOURTEEN
Zoella watched Fardeen out of the corner of her eyes. She saw his face turn white, then he flushed and gave a short laugh. He was laughing? Even now? Cruel man.
She wanted nothing more from him. Ever again. He’d already given an undeserved million for her services, hadn’t he? How could she ever take anything from him after what he’d said? Their whole relationship was tainted and profane. He’d left nothing sacred.
Neha engaged him in another tinkling tête-à-tête. Zoella didn’t have it in her to watch the beginning of her own final devastation as her husband rekindled love with his ex-fiancée. How could she have been so stupid? Why did she have to fall in love with him?
“I have to go, Swaba. Just make some excuse,” she said trying not to cry. Why was she letting it hurt her so? She’d always known this would happen. Every day at the hospital, she’d reminded herself that he was getting better, so that he could go back to Neha.
Ever the best friend, Swaba answered quickly, “Wait, I’ll come with you.”
“No. Please stay. I don’t want to make a scene. Just tell him I wasn’t feeling well. Please.”
Swaba looked rebellious for an instant and then she said, “Fine. I’ll stay, but only if you let Omer take you home.”
Furious with her brother, she only had to look at her husband, who gave her a sympathetic look and followed Zoella out. Fardeen and Neha spotted Swaba and walked her way.
“Where’s Zoella?” Fardeen asked looking over her head, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“She went home. She felt sick.”
The way she said it made Fardeen look at her twice, and he saw her eyes flash in anger.
“What’s wrong with her? Who did she go with?”
“With Omer,” Swaba said with an icy smile.
Looking at Neha and then back again at her brother, she said brightly, “Don’t let me keep you two. I’ll wait for my husband in the coffee shop.”
“Just a minute, Swaba,” Fardeen turned towards Neha and said, “I think I’ll take my sister home now. It was lovely seeing you again.”
They kissed cheek to cheek.
Fardeen walked his sister towards his car with a severe expression on his face.
“What’s wrong with Zoella? She looked fine to me.”
“Oh, did she now?”
“What’s with you?”
“Enough with the third degree. Go home and ask her yourself,” Swaba said, watching him with open disgust.
Fardeen was still hurt and angry at Zoella’s refusal to accept the ring from him. He wondered when and how she had mastered the knack of saying things that could gut him. Today was like any other day, she’d said, they’d all be the same. Nothing would ever change. She’d never forgive him. She didn’t care. How could this be happening to him again? He should’ve known it wasn’t going to be simple. Nothing with Zoella ever was. She surprised him at every turn. He hadn’t expected her to hold out for so long. Or to react in that deliciously defiant way she did.
Thinking of Swaba’s grand gesture theory, Fardeen decided that he was going to tell Zoella that he loved her as soon as he went home. He’d present her with that ring he’d bought and tell her how much he loved her. What could be grander than the declaration of love? If that didn’t make her forgive him, nothing would.
He’d been dying to get his hands on her too. And if he was to penetrate this wall of indifference she’d erected—he shut his eyes as his choice of words registered. That was just embarrassing. It was all going to change tonight, though, he thought grinning. What would it feel like, having her without her anger, her withdrawal and her bitterness? He couldn’t wait to find out.
Once home, Fardeen went straight upstairs to his wife.
Zoella was packing a suitcase.
He stopped dead.
“What the hell’s this?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Leaving? What do you mean? Why? Is something wrong with your family?”
Zoella didn’t answer and neither did she stop.
Astounded, he grabbed her by the arm, and growled, “What the hell, Zoella?”
Calmly she extricated her arm. He watched her put away her things. What was going on with her?
“Zoella, are you trying to prove some point here? If so, do elaborate because I fail to grasp it. You didn’t even tell me and you came home with Omer. Why?”
“Don’t bother your pretty little head about it.”
Go
d, she had the memory of an elephant. Here he was trying to tell her he loved her, and she was packing a suitcase.
“Zoella, I’m running out of patience with your theatrics. We need to talk.”
“Alright. Let’s do that. Me first. I’ve been thinking about the future. I think we can both agree that ours looks bleak,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“I think you’re intelligent enough to know what that means.”
“Apparently not.”
She threw her stuff down on the bed and exclaimed, “It means our future together does not exist. Our paths have forked.”
“That makes no sense whatsoever. I came to talk to you about something important and…”
“And of course what I say or want is of no consequence?” she retorted.
“That’s not what I said. I’m talking about our life together. We’ve been drifting apart and I don’t want that. We need to focus on our marriage.”
Zoella gave an incredulous laugh and said, “What marriage? This isn’t a marriage. It’s a compromise. The worst kind. Do you think you or your parents would have chosen me for you if it hadn’t been for the accident?”
Fardeen felt like he’d received a punch in the gut.
Zoella continued mercilessly.
“I served a particular purpose at a particular time. That purpose and that time are thankfully over for you. I don’t fit in the equation anymore and we both know it.”
Aghast, he replied, “You have a very low opinion of me and my family, not to mention yourself.”
“It’s the truth. Deny it all you want.”
She really believed it, he could see. How could she say all this to him?
“Zoella, you say the most demeaning, horrible things about us, our relationship and our marriage. You’ve been doing it consistently since the day I said…those awful things. I know I did, but I hadn’t meant to. I wasn’t myself. Just like you haven’t been yourself since that night. I know I behaved badly. I know I said some terrible things. But you know what, Zoella? You did too. You’ve pushed me away repeatedly but I didn’t give up on us.”
“Is that what you tell yourself? That you didn’t give up on us? That I did? Will that help you sleep better?” she asked.
He stared at her and when she refused to engage, Fardeen said, “I’m trying to make things better between us.”
She didn’t respond.
He came forward, his voice changed, softened, “Don’t I deserve forgiveness at all, Zoella? What we have, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She laughed.
“What we have? You know what we have, Fardeen? Memories of humiliation and empty, broken hearts, that’s what we have.”
He tried to hang on to his fraying nerves. He was dying to tell her he loved her and she was making it impossible.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my heart, I assure you. As for the humiliation, I apologize. I wasn’t myself. I’m sorry, Zoella. I really am.”
“I’m sorry too, Fardeen. I can’t do this anymore. I have nothing more to give. Why prolong this sham of a marriage?”
“Why do you keep saying things like that?” Fardeen asked, still trying not to give in to his growing anger and panic.
“We both know it’s over. It was over the day it began.”
Stunned, he said, “That’s just… Why’re you making this so hard for me?”
She gave a soft laugh, and asked sourly, “I’m making this hard?”
“You’re the one walking out on me. Where will you go? To that horrible family of yours who don’t even appreciate you?”
Stung, she retorted, “Oh, yeah, and over here I’m appreciated so much more!”
“Yes!” He yelled back. Then he stepped towards her and repeated softly, “Yes, you are.”
This was it. It was now or never. If he didn’t tell her now, things would just get worse. He’d planned it differently. But he couldn’t wait. He had to tell her right away. She’d be in his arms in the next ten seconds he knew. Smiling at the image his mind conjured, he said, “Zoella, listen to me.” Holding her from her upper arms, he said softly, “I know you’ve loved me since…”
Her eyebrows flew up, her mouth fell open in mock surprise, and she interrupted coldly, “I beg your pardon? I don’t recall saying that. I never once said that I loved you.”
Fardeen was a little taken aback at that, because she was right. She’d never said it.
“No, you didn’t, did you?” he said. It didn’t make any sense that she hadn’t when she so clearly did. It was time one of them said the words and it should be him. Poetic justice.
Before he could though, Zoella spoke with the same cold voice, “I married you because I had to. I didn’t have a choice. Just like you. What I said about dreaming to be your bride that was pure rubbish and you know it. Everything Swaba says about me is total crap.”
Was she protesting too much, or was that what he wanted to think? Maybe she didn’t love him anymore. He’d pushed her away. But he wanted to tell her that he loved her, anyway. That would thaw her, wouldn’t it? Even if she didn’t love him anymore, she would start to again.
“Maybe that’s true, Zoella and maybe it isn’t. I know what I put you through, and what you did for me. I cannot tell you how much I…”
“You’re welcome. Let’s just agree that we both did each other great favors. We’ve paid our debts. Can you move over now so I can pack my stuff?”
He lost his temper then. It was at himself more than anything, but he raged at her, “Every time. Every. Bloody. Time. I try to patch things up, you drive another wedge between us. If you liked me better as the scarred and damaged man I had become, why didn’t you just let me be then? You’re the one who forced me into doing all this. What more do you want from me?”
Zoella stared back at Fardeen.
This was it. She had at last come face to face with destiny. What did she want from him? She wanted love. She let out a sound half-way between a sob and a laugh. He had only thrown hers back in her face. Hadn’t he made it clear that he’d never be able to love her? Over and over he’d made it clear. If you’re waiting for the prince to emerge and give you a happily ever after, think again. What was she waiting for? Surely not the prince? He didn’t exist. He’d proved that repeatedly. You’re my wife not my girlfriend. How much more humiliation was she willing to be subjected to before she took her stand. She had a job offer. It wasn’t much to stand on, it was true but it was something. What she’d seen today was a preview to what life would be like, if she clung on to Fardeen. There would always be Neha. What did she want from him? What could he give her? This was it. This was the moment of truth. She stared into his furious face. Darling, you weren’t that good...
“I…I want a divorce,” she whispered hoarsely.
Fardeen stared at Zoella in sheer disbelief. He hadn’t heard right, he told himself. His voice dropped to a dangerous low bass, “What?”
Now that she’d said it, it didn’t seem so hard to Zoella. She repeated with more confidence, “I want a divorce. I’ve accomplished what was required of me and I…”
“And what exactly was that? What do you think you were ‘required’ to do?” he snapped.
She looked at him so coldly, his heart felt the frost.
“Like I said, I served a particular purpose, at a particular time. That purpose and that time are thankfully over for you. So why delay the inevitable?”
He still couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Where is this even coming from? You want a divorce now when the hardest part is over? You’ve stayed with me through the thick and thin of a nightmare and now you want out? Zoella, what possible reasons can you have now for…”
“Oh, because you’re such a prize?”
He looked at her steadily for a few stunned seconds.
“You want a divorce? You want to end this marriage?”
“Yes.”
Fardeen nodded. Then he sat down
, scrutinizing the rug. His hands meeting at the fingertips. His heart raging. His mind racing. Calm down, Fardeen. Take a deep breath.
He looked up at her. She was still standing near her suitcases. She didn’t look at him. She looked miserable.
“Why?”
“I have a million reasons.”
“Give me one.”
She shrugged.
“Look, Zoella…”
Sounding tired she said, “Fardeen, there’s nothing more to say. Please. Just…just—”
He got up and raised his hand to stall her.
“You need time to think this over. I’m going to go now. I need to get away. I need to clear my head and you obviously do too.”
“That’s just it. My head hasn’t been any clearer, ever,” she responded.
“Your determination is admirable but not practical. You’ll need a lawyer, Zoella, and good luck finding one in this town who’d be willing to go against me.”
Fardeen walked out of the room, his heart lodged in his mouth, making it impossible for him to breathe. He’d come prepared to make declarations of love and had instead come face to face with a reckoning.
FIFTEEN
Zoella needed a lawyer. Pronto. She stewed for two whole days before she remembered that her friend Sana had a brother who was a lawyer. She could call her up and ask about him. He might have some advice for her. Sana was happy to hear from her old friend and gave Zoella her brother Murad’s home number at the end of their short conversation.
She called him up immediately after.
“Hi, Murad, this is Zoella, your sister Sana and…oh you do?” She laughed at his assurance that he remembered her. “I wanted to talk to you about something personal. Um, could we meet sometime? Yes next Tuesday’s perfect, thank you. Around noon? I’ll see you then.”
Zoella put the phone down. Doubts and fears attacked. Her heart skipped a beat. Did she know what she was doing? Did she really want this? Could she go ahead with it? It wasn’t an empty threat, was it? No, she had to get away with some dignity.
Her mother had refused any sort of help. How lucky that she’d been offered the job she’d always wanted. It would be a huge challenge but exciting too. It would be scary. But when was anything worth doing, not?