by Zeenat Mahal
Zoella shook her head.
“Please, don’t be like this anymore, Zoella. I’m all yours, prince or beast, whatever you think I am, I’m yours.”
“I don’t think so, Fardeen. I really don’t. I’m so tired. Maybe I’m in the wrong fairy tale, which is why it’s such a nightmare.”
Nightmare? He was in love with her and it was her nightmare. His love wasn’t enough. He’d pushed her away with his cruelty and now nothing would ever be enough.
“Zoella, listen—you love me, I know it, don’t let your anger destroy our love, sweetheart.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” she snarled. “I don’t love you! I never said I did and I never will!”
His heart slowed down. He felt drained. He was proclaiming his love for her and she didn’t care. But she had to. It was just bad timing. He had to make her understand. He loved her. It had to mean something. His heart was sinking. How was it possible that it didn’t? A small voice told him though, that it was entirely possible. It happened to people all the time. Love did not guarantee reciprocation.
Something dark crept into his heart. It began to take hold. He spoke in haste to stem her words, and control the damage, “Don’t, Zoella. Don’t do this. Don’t demean my feelings like you do everything else between us.”
With a vicious little smile she said, "Demean your feelings? That’s rich! You put a price on me, Fardeen, and I’m demeaning you?”
“It was unforgivable and reprehensible, I know.” Beginning to feel the ache in his heart spreading, he asked softly, “Are you punishing me for being the brute I was to you or yourself for loving me? Because I know no one could have endured what I put you through, without love. Yet, you want to deny that with such determination. Why, Zoella?”
She gave a short hysterical laugh, and said, “I have nothing left to give you, Fardeen. What else do you want from me? I’ve already given you everything I had. I have nothing!”
“And I cannot tell you enough how very sorry I am for not appreciating that sooner. But Zoella, I was hurting too. I felt ugly and you’re so beautiful, inside and out. I felt I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“I agree. You’re not. Anyone who can behave the way you did with me doesn’t deserve me. Look at the way you tell me you love me! Like a boon! It’s not a boon you’re giving me.”
The darkness around Fardeen’s heart that her words had initiated turned cold. It was true she’d never said she loved him. But she had loved him once. He knew that. Wasn’t his love enough to break the curse his words had spun around them both?
“Zoella. I love you. Don’t you want me?”
With a shrug she said, “Not really. Neha can have you for all I care. She’s most welcome to you. You suit each other perfectly. I don’t need your love. I don’t want it.”
She didn’t love him. She’d never said it, it was true.
But he had.
He’d made avowals of love and she was throwing them back at him as if it meant nothing. His fears turned to anger. He’d said that stupid, horrible thing in his warped mental state to her. He’d never felt pain like this before. He’d been trying so hard to earn her love and she didn’t want him.
He stared at her, his heart thumping and dipping in an unfamiliar pattern.
“I’m asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to allow yourself to feel the love you used to have for me. Even if you didn’t say it ever, did you ever feel it?”
Zoella stared back and said, “I didn’t say it because I didn’t feel it. Your ego’s really big, isn’t it?”
“So that’s it then? You didn’t love me ever. And you never will?”
“Yes. Why is it so hard for you to believe that I might not love you? We’re just,” she shrugged, “married. It’s nothing more than that.”
Turning on his heels, Fardeen walked out of their room.
TWENTY-ONE
“Ami, I have a very special guest coming to dinner tonight. Please arrange something elegant,” Fardeen called out to his mother as he walked into the sitting room, straight from his office. It was already six in the evening.
“Who is it?” his mother asked without batting an eyelid.
“A friend of mine I haven’t seen in ages,” he replied and snatching the newspaper off the table, sat down on the couch and started reading.
Zoella had been feeling invisible since Fardeen’s forced admission of love. She sneaked a look at him. He was looking absolutely gorgeous in his charcoal blazer and matching trousers. His perfectly chiseled jawline was shadowed. She sighed with suppressed longing. Ever since he had said he loved her, she’d been feeling that old treacherous emotion bubbling restlessly inside her too. She’d tried to ignore his words. She’d even tried to forget them and not believe him. How could he do this to her? She’d asked herself. How could he expect her to accept these alms from him? What was wrong with him? He actually thought she’d believe this sudden volte-face? Now? After all the stupid things he’d said? He could keep his guilt and his feigned love and charity. She’d gather her shattered pride and leave with dignity.
But his words haunted her.
She hadn’t believed him. She had been angry. He’d sounded so shocked at the insinuation she’d made about Neha though, as if it made no sense to him. He’d said he loved her, Zoella, and she so wanted to believe him. Her eyes rose of their own accord and landed on him again and she sighed.
“I haven’t heard that sound in ages and it’s just as annoying as it ever was!” said Swaba.
“What?” Zoella said, trying to recollect her thoughts and flushing in embarrassment at being caught.
“Why Zoella Khan Malik, you look absolutely guilty. He’s your husband for heaven’s sake. Don’t mind me. Moon away.”
Fardeen was spluttering and coughing behind his newspaper and Zoella was sure she was going up in smoke in the heat of her shame.
Laughing at her friend, Swaba said, “Come on, let’s go help Ami, Bhai’s got an old friend coming for dinner and check this out, he just told Ami now.”
They shook their heads at male idiocy and went towards the kitchen.
Fardeen watched Zoella go from over his prop of a newspaper. She had been watching him for two days now. Sometimes she had that almost dreamy expression she used to have around him before his bestial metamorphosis.
He felt a pang of regret at what he was about to do. Almost, he thought of calling the whole thing off.
She’d laughed at his avowal of love. If he’d hurt her, she had reciprocated a hundred times over. Tonight he had her comeuppance all planned and charted. If she really didn’t love him, tonight he’d have the proof. His heart sank just contemplating it. This was his last bid to win her.
Precisely at eight, Fardeen descended the staircase in faded blue jeans and white cotton T-shirt.
“Did I accidentally wake up in the nineties?” Swaba said.
“Bite me.”
“I’ll get rabies.”
Fardeen laughed and kissed his sister on the top of her head before sauntering off. Zoella smiled to herself. Was this regression into the past for her benefit and another avowal of love? Swaba had told him about how she’d liked him in white. However, before she could think more on this delicious possibility, Farooqui, their kitchen helper came running to open the main door for Fardeen’s guest.
“Bhai, I think your friend’s here,” Swaba called out.
Fardeen came back out of the study and flashed Zoella a look that she didn’t understand, till she heard a familiar voice. “Fardeen, hi. It’s good to see you again so soon.”
“Likewise, Neha,” Fardeen said smiling, kissing her on both cheeks.
Swaba was staring with her mouth hanging open. Zoella watched Neha walk towards them like a nightmare exuding Gucci. Again? She’d said, again, so soon. They’d been meeting.
Fardeen’s mother came and was too startled to see Neha to say anything. Swiftly, Fardeen got up, took his mother’s hand to bring her forward and said, “Ami,
Neha and I ran into each other the other day and well, we have so much history together. I’m sure you realize we’re very good friends still.”
Ami came forward and smiling stiffly said, “Of course, how wonderful.”
Fardeen and Neha had eyes for no one else but each other. Swaba sat with Zoella, grinding her teeth and whispering profanities in Zoella’s ears. She was too dazed to feel anything, so she watched them as if from a distance. So much history together.
Why had she thought even for a second that he might actually love her? Why had he said all that? Just because she’d blurted it out like a fool? Maybe he wanted her to know now that it was nothing after all. Just so she didn’t mistake his words, he’d proved them wrong with his actions.
Then Salaar walked in through the main door and hailed them.
“Hey plebs.”
Neha piped up excitedly, “Hi, Salaar. Long time!”
Salaar’s steps faltered. He stared at Neha and then Fardeen, before he said politely but coolly, “Hi, Nina.”
Swaba snorted. At that moment Zoella loved Salaar more than she ever had before. Fardeen looked at Salaar and said, “Neha was looking forward to seeing you, Salaar.”
“Can you blame her? You married old guys can be so boring.”
Salaar exchanged a glance with Swaba and Zoella before he sat down on the arm of the couch they were both sitting on. Zoella couldn’t remember ever having had this feeling before, of family protecting her. Ami, Swaba, and Salaar were all sitting so that they were closer to her, making their positions as to whose side they were on, and their disapproval of Fardeen, clear.
Fardeen was undeterred. Laughing at Salaar’s remark he said, “That’s just where Neha comes in though. She always was the most potent antidote to boredom.”
Zoella tensed. He’d said it to her before, but to announce it to the world? He might as well have put it on his forehead that he wanted excitement outside of his boring marriage.
Cool and imperious Ami said, “Young people these days get bored so easily. Zoella, I’m sure you get just as bored as Fardeen. After all you’re both equally married.”
She smiled at her mother-in-law but before she could answer, Fardeen said looking at her with a taunting smile, “Zoella plays too many games to get bored.”
Bristling, she managed to laugh and said brightly, “I do agree with you, though, no number of games can relieve the tedium of married life.”
Salaar sniggered. Fardeen looked at her dispassionately before giving Neha his full attention. With a charming smile, he suggested, “Why don’t we go sit in the other room, and catch up? Let us know when dinner’s ready, Zoella.”
Neha had the hauteur of a queen on her face as she got up to follow Fardeen. She didn’t even deign to look at Zoella. As soon as they were out of earshot Swaba rounded on her friend, “Where’s your backbone? Go over there right now and…”
“Swaba, please calm down.”
“Ami! How can you say that? I’m shocked.”
“Swaba, sometimes the best strategy is to downplay the importance of something that could be potentially…dangerous.”
Was her mother-in-law warning her?
“I think I’m going to skip dinner. What was he thinking bringing her home?” Salaar wanted to know.
“Please stay, Salaar,” Zoella said simply.
Her entreaty wasn’t lost on him. She needed people on her side. He nodded. “Only for you because I can see you’ll need a champion. It’s going to get bloody, I fear.”
When dinner was ready, Salaar told their manservant to tell his brother. But Zoella said quickly, “No, I’ll go.”
“Are you crazy?” Salaar was incredulous.
Zoella was already walking. She was going to make it clear to Fardeen that his shenanigans weren’t having any effect on her. She opened the door to the study. They were sitting rather close. Fardeen looked up when she entered, his eyes hooded, a smile on his face. His fingers brushed the back of Neha’s neck.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said sweetly, looking at Fardeen with a cold smile, even though she felt sick. She wanted him to know that she had not been taken in by his false avowal of love. She turned and walked away with her head held high, her blood boiling, even as her heart shriveled in pain. To think that she’d almost believed him. What a fool she was.
Abba joined them at the table, showing no reaction at all to Neha, as if it was all in a day’s work. The dinner started with the cross-currents of tension, the demarcations and the subtle hints of divided loyalties.
“I met with Muffy again. We went sky-diving. It wasn’t as much fun as it was last time though,” Neha said meaningfully.
Fardeen said with a wicked smile, “You almost gave me a heart attack that time. I thought you wouldn’t make it. I thought the same though, when you insisted on bungee jumping.”
Neha laughed and said in a breathy whisper, “What wonderful memories…”
Zoella’s heart was sinking by the minute. She was nothing like this diva, and Fardeen knew it. She’d never even climbed a tree, let alone all these fun things they seemed to have done together. Nobody could get a word in edgewise because of the continuous traipsing down memory lane.
Why had Fardeen said all those lovely words to her that night? He hadn’t meant them, or anything else, after all. How foolish she was to have started dreaming again. How could she let him do this to her again and again? Thank God she hadn’t let him see that he’d got under her skin. She was stronger now. She wasn’t so easily hurt by him anymore. Or at least, she was never going to let him see that she was.
Fardeen and Neha were still laughing, having the time of their lives, oblivious to everyone else. Swaba was miming putting her finger down her throat and gagging. Salaar rolled his eyes. Zoella understood why he’d brought Neha home. He wanted to tell his family what she still meant to him, and what his wife didn’t. He was making a point with everyone.
“…and believe it or not this is the same shirt…” Fardeen said with a smile that Zoella had never seen before.
He’d never smiled like that with her.
“This is the shirt I shoplifted? Oh, you kept it? How sweet!” Neha exclaimed giving Zoella a victorious smile. When Fardeen nodded, she added, with a laugh, “Oh my! You have to hear this story! So we’re on this trip and I told him I’d shoplifted as a teenager, I was so emo, and he dared me…”
Zoella had stopped listening. What a perfect little imbecile she was. She had thought he’d remembered that she liked him in white shirts, that silly story Swaba had told him, but it was nothing of the sort. He had memories to relive with Neha. She was a fool. There was no getting past that.
“Fascinating,” Salaar growled.
“Don’t they have security in stores anymore?” Swaba commented sourly.
“Well, I did pay for it after I’d stopped laughing at her.”
Then Neha and Fardeen were chuckling at another old memory. With another vibrant laugh Neha, halted her fork mid-air, to say something to Fardeen and Zoella saw it.
Her ring…
Neha was wearing her ring, the diamond and gold leaf ring Zoella had liked at the exhibition, the one that Fardeen had said he’d bought for her. She gasped as she felt the pain hit her.
Heads swiveled towards Zoella.
She shook her head to reassure them and smiled, but she couldn’t speak. She pretended to drink water. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. She knew someone was still talking, but her heart had sunk low, her ears were throbbing. Zoella felt sick. Her vision grew slightly dim. She blinked. No way was she going to cry.
When she finally managed to pull her gaze away from Neha’s hand, she couldn’t help glancing at Fardeen. He was watching her.
“What’s wrong Zoella? You look a bit peaked,” he said.
Zoella had thought that he couldn’t hurt her any more than he already had. She had thought she no longer cared. She’d never been so wrong. Because the storms that raged in her heart, the waves of pain
and anger, of betrayal that threatened to break the fortifications she’d built around her couldn’t have been so devastating, so utterly destructive, if Zoella was as impervious as she’d thought. She’d known this would happen all along, hadn’t she? She’d known how Fardeen loved Neha. He’d already told her in so many ways, one more didn’t matter, did it?
Only, it did. Oh, it did.
“I’m fine,” Zoella replied with composure.
“Are you sure? Nothing amiss?”
She looked back at Fardeen, and said calmly, “No, nothing.”
His eyes shuttered and he gave all his attention back to Neha.
Zoella had just begun to believe now that he’d hurt her unknowingly, perhaps because he didn’t know any better. This, though, he’d done on purpose, she thought.
They moved to the lounge for dessert and green tea. Ami asked her to pour when Neha finished her dessert after a single spoonful, saying sweetly, “My calorie intake is way over the limit already.”
“That’s a beautiful ring,” her mother-in-law said politely to Neha.
Zoella’s eyes flew to Fardeen but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was gazing fondly at Neha, whose smile was as mysterious as the Sphinx’s and just as fascinating to see.
Neha said, “It’s a gift from a very, very special man.”
Swaba’s mouth was hanging open because she’d finally caught on to this pretty little detail, and then she closed it in a sulk. The conversation moved on.
“Zoella,” she hissed at her and whispered, “If you don’t kill him for this, I will!”
“What are you talking about?” Zoella said, pretending ignorance. She wasn’t going to let anyone see her hurt.
Swaba stared at her thunderstruck. Neha got up to leave at last. Fardeen walked her out and didn’t return for at least fifteen minutes. When he did, he stank of Gucci.
Still playing her knight in shining armor, Swaba said, “Bhai, what the hell was that?”
“Grow up, Swaba.”
“Fardeen, please don’t bring that woman into my house again.” His father said calmly, and left. Ami followed him, thinking perhaps that that was enough warning.