𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Chapter 15

Zaidan's POV

It was midnight, and sleep eluded me. My head throbbed, and the booming music from the club only worsened it. I can't deny that I longed for my wife's presence. For some reason, an urge surged within me to go to her house and bring her back with me.

Earlier today at the office, Shehryar mentioned that he and bhabhi had gifted Zehra a new phone since she didn't have one. He even shared her number with me. He lectured me about how I should treat my wife, but I brushed it off without paying much attention.

Now, I'm contemplating whether I should call her or not. Why do I feel this urge to reach out? Why do I miss her so much? Why do I keep thinking about her? I don't have the answers yet, but I'll discover them soon. However, I also know that I must keep my distance from her. Sigh. I despise being caught in this situation.

Some inexplicable feeling compelled me to call her, as if a nagging worry lingered in the depths of my mind, fearing she might be hurt. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialed her number. She didn't answer, so I tried again, but this time she declined the call.

I waited for three minutes, growing restless, before dialing her number once more. And to my relief, she finally picked up.

"As-salamu alaykum," I heard her sleepy voice.

"Were you sleeping?" I inquired, glancing around the club.

"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring my question.

"Your kidnapper." Why did I say that? I'm not the type to play jokes on girls.

"Okay, good. Let me get some shut-eye and quit bugging me with calls," I facepalmed, unable to hide my smile. She's definitely one-of-a-kind.

"I'm not kidding. I'm seriously going to kidnap you," I declared as I made my way out of the club.

"You're a strange kidnapper."

"Why?" I asked, settling into my car. I switched my phone to speaker mode and tossed it onto the passenger seat before starting the engine.

"What do you mean, why? I mean, who calls someone just to say, 'I'm going to kidnap you'?"

"I do." I accelerated my car, merging into the empty night road.

"You're such a peculiar kidnapper. Seriously, who are you?" Your husband, whose voice you can't recognize.

"I already told you, your kidnapper." I turned the steering wheel, guiding the car to the right side of the road. With the night sky as my witness and the road deserted, I pressed on the gas pedal.

"Don't mess around–ouch." She winced in pain. I knew something was definitely wrong.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not."

"Why? What happened?" I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.

"I stumbled and hurt my leg."

"What were you doing that made you trip?"

"I was reaching into my bag to grab my phone, and then I lost my balance and fell." I could hear her tears, and my grip on the steering wheel tightened even more.

"Why the fuck weren't you–"

"Don't yell at me, and it's your fault. You called me," she whispered, trying her hardest not to cry. "If he was here, he wouldn't let me fall," she said.

"Who?" I asked, parking the car and stepping out.

"My husband." I smiled and hung up. Then, I climbed a tree that connected to her window. Since her window was open, I jumped inside, finding her clutching her leg and shedding a few tears.