The Script (Liam Payne)

Chapter 8

"Do you know how many ways love can hit you? So it makes you happy, or miserable? It makes you sick in the belly or hurt in the heart. It makes everything brighter and sharper, or it blurs all the edges. It makes you feel like a king or a fool. Every way love can hit you, it hits me when it comes to you." - Nora Roberts, Black Hills.

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"Dammit, Tiara! Can you fucking stop it? Yes, i don't care a damn of what you do. Wait, why would I care? All of it is just a fucking contract, isn't it? Your father is a broken bankrupt person who is in a desperate need of help. You should worship my father and me for helping your daddy-dear out of his misery. But what do you do? Insult me and talk about my character? You should--" His words went hush as my palm hit him hard on his cheek, making him stop. No one talks about my father like that.

My head was spinning and for that second, I had no control over my hand. It was like, my hand, on it's own reflexes, smashed his face. I could not believe Liam said that about my father. My father had a lot of trust on him. He felt that his son-in-law would never hurt his daughter. But he has actually crossed that and insulted my father. This behaviour can not be tolerated by me.

"How do you dare to say that?" I shouted, my voice filled with venom and I spat it out with utter disgust in my tone. I could not believe that this man standing in front of me, irrespective of how he looked, was my husband. If I knew about him before the marriage, I would just never marry him. Ever.

Liam's face looked paralyzed and his expression went back to being numb. After I slapped him, he just stood there, rooted to the floor, looking at the ground. But within seconds, anger flew inside him and all I took was umbrage at his remarks. His eyes came all out and his nostrils flared. The portion on his cheek, where I just slapped, turned red with my finger prints on it. I bet he could feel the burning sensation. Hell, I could feel the burning sensation inside me, as well.

He whipped his head to face me, taking a long step. Hovering over me, he used both his hands and pressed it hard on both of my upper arms. The feeling was getting unbearable after every passing second and I tried to nudge hard to move away his hand, but he seemed invincible to my move.

"How do you dare to slap me?" He leaned in but almost shouted in my face.

"Liam, leave me! You're hurting me." The words trembled, as I was still trying to loosen his grip on my hands.

"So now you feel hurt, right? Get it how it feels?"

"You shouldn't have said that about my father. Don't you forget that it was your father who came up with this superb idea of getting us married."

"So you are now blaming my father? Please remember that he made that decision just to help your father out of his mess. How can you blame him?"

I laughed. In spite of all his cruel words and the manhandling, I laughed.

"Liam, both us know that helping my father wasn't the only reason to get us married." I referred to his flamboyant and Casanova persona that his father was worried of. I'm so sure that he must have thought getting us married would end his worries and but then who thought about his wife? No one. The pain inside my heart, which had settled for some time, came back with an unusual vigour and the pain he was torturing me with was no competition to what I was feeling in my rib cage.

" You don't know a shit, Tiara. You don't know anything." He said, his voice as low as a murmur and his eyes boring into mine. His grip on my hand just loosened a bit but our eyes were vying to prove our respective points. Within moments, his grip on my hand completely slacked. He left from his position, not even sparing me with another glance. I just noticed he didn't enter the mansion, but left strolling outside, along the beach. My knees weakened and I dropped on them, the pain unbearable in my heart, and my eyes gave out. I cried for what seemed an eternity.