Fix me (COMPLETED) #Wattys2016

Chapter Seventeen

(Another picture of Adam because I just can't get enoooooouuuggghhhhhh 😍)

(Not edited)

| Adam's POV |

Puzzled.

That's the only word that could perfectly describe me at this moment. My feelings are all over the place. Puzzled is an understatement.

The moment I muttered the words "I accept" at the mosque, I immediately felt like a new man. I felt something in the pit of my stomach.

I haven't skydived  but, you know the feeling when you're about to sky dive? The moment you're about to hop out of the airplane and into the air, putting your life on the line? Yeah that's what I felt when I was about to sign the marriage contract, yet the weird thing is even though I felt like like retreating because of the stress and pressure I felt, I still did it. And guess what... I landed with both feet on the ground, all my limbs and head in correct place. The second I signed my name on the marriage contract I felt like I had finally found home. Like I had finally found something to fill the void of my loneliness and the feeling of longing.

But what did I do instead?

I fucked it up.

Everything I do or touch gets ruined somehow and I've got no one to blame but myself.

But ever since I first met Layla and her daughter I've been different. I've been feeling different. I've simple become a better person without even knowing it. Its as if simplybbeing in Layla's presence will make you a new changed man.

The night we got married, i felt so scared. That feeling hasn't been in my dictionary for a long, long time but that night i felt it and i dont know why. I don't like feeling fear, the feeling is unwelcome. So what did I do? Instead of being all civil and a mere gentleman with manners, I ditched my bride on our wedding night. Real bride or fake bride, real love or fake love... no matter the reasons, what I did was still a very dick move.

After signing the marriage contract at the mosque... Yes the mosque, the place where I hadn't set foot in, in a very long time... yes that place, I felt very weird. It was a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, I had looked over at Layla while she was repeating her acceptance thrice or what you call the "I do's" and felt giddy with... happiness. Yes happiness. And I'm not sure why.

I decided that I need to have some space, some space to think, some space to get my weird unwelcome feelings in check. So instead of returning home to pick Layla up to go to dinner as planned after dropping her teta at the airport, I changed lanes and headed to nowhere in particular. And where did I end up? The bar.

Yes the bar. A place where I had sworn to never enter. I've never had a sip of any alcoholic drinks in my life and I have sworn and promised myself that I never will. I mean how could I when the reason of my biological parents death was alcohol? How could I when a drunk driver had ended my parents lives too early? How could I when alcohol was the reason I was left alone, so alone at such as young age?

It's also not permitted in Islam, but that was back when I was a believer of God and had good faith in him. But I'm no longer that man, yet I've still held on to these simple rules that i went by.

So there I was, seated on a barstool in a bar drinking lemonade after lemonade, pretending to be drinking away my problems and feelings. Layla had kept on calling me and I obviously kept on ignoring her calls.

I couldn't answer her, because I know that the moment I hear her voice the weird feelings would come back even stronger, plus I know that hearing her voice would make me feel guilty.