𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Chapter 21

Zaidan's POV

Muskaan emerged from the bathroom wearing a baby blue dress and asked, "How do I look?" After our argument we had made amends. She had been so upset and tearful that I couldn't stay angry with her any longer.

"Beautiful," I replied.

"You don't look good. What happened?" she asked as she brushed her hair.

"Nothing," I muttered, my mind still recalling the memory of last night when I was about to kiss my wife.

"Are you sure? You seem distracted." She glanced at me from the mirror.

"I'm sure. Put on your dupatta and let's go," I said and got up from the bed. I'm not going to tell her that I nearly kissed my wife yesterday, because she doesn't have to know it.

After she finished getting ready, I led her to my car.

"Where are we going?" she inquired when I started the engine.

"It's a surprise," I said and tried to smile. Sometimes it's so difficult to smile.

"Come on, just give me a hint," she said, pouting playfully.

I shook my head. "You'll find out soon enough."

She looked out the window, crossing her arms. "Fine, be that way."

We arrived at the Italian restaurant I had booked for us, and parked the car.

"Are you angry?" I asked, concerned.

"No, I'm fine," she said, smiling at me.

I opened the door for her, and she thanked me with a grin.

The restaurant was beautiful, and she looked around in awe as I pulled out a chair for her to sit.

"I have never been to an Italian restaurant before," she said. "But you know I always wanted to. Thank you so much for bringing me here," she smiled at me as I grabbed the menu.

"No need to thank," I looked at her. "So, what should we order?" I asked, handing her the menu.

She glanced at the options, then looked up at me. "What do you recommend?"

"I would suggest the Margherita pizza or the spaghetti with tomato sauce. They're both delicious and are Halal." [Permissible.]

"Okay, let's get the spaghetti," she said, closing the menu.

We placed our order with the waitress, and Muskaan leaned back in her chair, looking content.

"This restaurant is so beautiful," she whispered, looking around.

"It is," I looked around before my gaze settled on her face. "You look skinny," I said.

"Me and skinny? Why are you joking?" She laughed.

"I'm serious, Muskaan."

"The fact that you called my name so seriously says it all," she scrunched her nose. "I'm on a diet," she said.

"No you're not," I shifted in my seat and rested my hands on the table.

"I am," she took a sip of her water avoiding my eye.

"Look, I don't want to get into another fight but if you're changing for that bastard of your husband, then divorce him. He doesn't deserve you," I said, linking my hands and looking at her.

"I'm not divorcing him," she said, still not looking at me.

"Why not? You don't deserve to be with someone who treats you like shit. You can divorce him and start a new life," I said, calmly. Just as I finished speaking, the waitress arrived with our food, unbuttoning her shirt in an attempt to get my attention.