"But I'm your-"
"I'm your what?!" He cut her off. She flinched at the acidity in his voice. "My wife?" He scoffed inching in on her until he was arms length. His eyes bored into the depths of her soul. He slurred the words with venom dripping from...
- Meeza's feet hurt by the time she was on the third floor, she practically dragged her feet as she reached her bedroom door. She couldn't wait to remove her heels and rest her feet. She detested heels but had to wear it for the overly long lehnga. Her hand burnt and throbbed in pain. She shouldn't have tried to act brave and helped Jenny in roasting the Kebabs. The other cooks were busy and she thought things would get done quicker if she helped around.
She had a nasty burn on her hand which wasn't going to go away any time soon. She ignored the part where Aunty Rida intentionally pushed her making her hand fall into the burning hot oil, or maybe it was all an accident? she didn't know. She anxiously waited for the visitors to go away so she could rub something cold on it. Still she blew on it for the burning feeling to go away.
She was just about to open her room door when she heard Saahir having a call on the phone. He usually spoke very briskly with a loud voice, which always included shouting, commanding and orders. In a word,
dominating!
But not this time, his voice was quietened, louder than a whisper, Meeza couldn't make out what he was saying but it was enough to figure he was hiding something. She remembered Saahir say he had the woman he loved.
The woman he loved. It was like a spear to her heart when she heard that. Not that she should care, she didn't even have feelings for Saahir. But still, she felt torn.
Meeza wondered who this girl must be? She wanted to know what kind of girl must have caught a tyrant like Saahir's heart. She wanted to know many things, but the only answer she really wanted to hear was if he still loved that woman.
She didn't want to eavesdrop so she entered the room pretending she heard nothing. Saahir dropped his phone and put it away. Again Meeza didn't react to his phonecall. She ignored him and went to the bathroom applying toothpaste on the burn to cool it down. There was only one thing on her mind now.
Her sofa.
She removed her heels breathing a sigh of relief and sat down stretching her feet. She felt lazy to change into her pajamas but the heavy lehnga was uncomfortable. She carried her heels and the five pound lehnga promptly as she reached for her hijab that had fallen off. The hijab was pinned to the back of her lehnga and she struggled to lift her dupatta, her hand burnt as she stretched it.
Saahir heard her struggle. He was lying on the bed and grunted on seeing her almost stumble over. She threw the heels in annoyance and twisted her hijab pulling the pin off. He noticed the burn on her hand. Two huge bubbles had formed with burnt skin around. He scoffed and continued typing onto his laptop.
"Now you want sympathy for a burnt hand? who asks you to help in the kitchen? We have five cooks for that" he scowled.
"I wasn't asking you to help, I'll manage" she returned a smile and pulled the dupatta making her shoulder rip.
