. . .
❝Once upon a time, a girl fell in love with her husband and made the stars realise that they'd gotten her soulmate wrong.❞
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It's a daunting thing, your first love. It's new, making you unsure and doubt whether it's love or just a mere...
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I WAS A PRETTY imaginative person. I liked to pride myself on my ideas and intellect the majority of the time, but at that moment, I couldn't think past a single sentence. I doubted it would even qualify as a sentence; they were just two words that held too much weight.
He'd lied.
Zayaan had lied. My husband had lied. He'd lied straight to my face.
I wasn't bothered by the fact that he'd had a girlfriend or had been in love with someone in the past — that would just be hypocritical of me — but I couldn't get over the fact that he'd just so blatantly lied when I asked him whether he'd been in any relationships.
I'd been honest with him from the beginning, so did I not deserve the same courtesy?
I did. I absolutely did.
My palms started to ache a little with how forcefully I was pressing them against the counter beside the sink, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I looked just as I had that morning, except there was an edge of something that resembled hurt embedded in my eyes. Because it fucking hurt that my husband had lied to me. It may not have been a life-altering, horrible lie, but it was one all the same.
I'd left the conversation with the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom after telling Zayaan's friends the altered version of our first meeting and relationship. His gaze — his eyes — had been too probing, too searching, and I had to force myself to not meet them, choosing to rush off instead.
One part of my logic told me that I was overthinking and that I had no reason to be hurt, but the other couldn't help it.
If he could so casually and openly lie about something like that, what else could he lie about?
I pondered over the question, but my thought process was interrupted when the bathroom door opened, bursting the little bubble I'd been in and made me turn to face the door in shock. I half-expected it to Zayaan, but it was a woman I hadn't seen before. Her attention was on a section of her dress that she held away from her, muttering to herself in aggravation about something.
But when she looked up, her eyes widened to meet my equally surprised ones and she immediately took a step back. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know someone was in here."
I blinked and shook my head hastily. "No, it's fine. I was done anyway. You can use the bathroom."
Still, neither one of us moved.
"But I should have knocked," she continued apologetically, the skirt of her dress momentarily forgotten. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," I reiterated. "I should have locked the door. You couldn't have known someone was in here."
Our words were panicked for no particular reason despite arguing over who was at fault. For some reason, that made a smile pull at my lips and she must have wondered the same thing because she laughed.
