18. The Doubts

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Sorry for the delayed update but I'm back :)

Remember feedback is must. I think Sanaya need to have some courage to deal with Hobsons. She was being so fearful. She should have good comebacks to say to everyone who insults her. What's your opinion?



Everyone assumed implausible things about me without giving me a single chance to defend my actions. I felt so obnoxious towards Hobsons's inhumane and hostile behavior to me that I wanted to just pull my hair and let out frustrated screams. Even the convicted criminal get a chance to defend his crime, but this family didn't give me this right. I was victimized by their prejudicial nature. I knew I made a big mistake by fooling them and lying to them, but I really didn't hold any personal grudge against them.

Gasping exasperatingly, I got out from my small bed. It was Melanie's room that was located in the staff's quarter where the family had given rooms to their domestic workers. The room was not very big, but it could be suffice for two of us. I now slept here comfortably because my conscience was somehow at peace due to not accepting that room that Hobsons offered.

I had lived a boring life, but I swear I was never bored like I felt now days because I couldn't go out and get some fresh air, meet my friends, use social media or any other activity that could give me a break from this family. My routine in this mansion was like cooking three meals a day, eat and then sleep, waking up next morning and following the same routine. The dullness, loneliness and overthinking were really giving me a hard time.

With these thoughts, I ascended the stairs and went to the dining area to perform my duties as a home cook here. The staff's quarter was in the basement of this mansion where usually no family member stopped by.

I halted my walking when I saw Ashar was coming forward from the opposite direction. He stopped walking as well when his eyes met with mine. Cold perspiration began to appear on my forehead as I recalled his anger of that night when he stormed into my apartment. It was the first time we came face to face since I had shifted to his house.

His jaws tightened and V formed between his brows as he scowled at me. I started playing with my fingers in nervousness. I noticed his angry gaze moved to my arm where his eyes flashed something, something akin to suppressed penitence. I felt confused so I also looked at my arm and understood what he was looking at. The scar of my bruise – the bruise I got because of him.

Although, the contusion was now completely healed, but it left the faded scar that would disappear probably after sometime. I hid it with my hand that made him look up at me again. He masked his expressions and again looked at me with constricted jaws.

Breaking the eye contact, he ignored me and walked past me. Maybe, he was going somewhere. I turned around and said in a brittle voice, "Hey, listen."

He stopped, but didn't move around. I trotted forward and faced him, "How, how are you doing?

I knew he was in no mood to converse with me. I knew I was going to receive hurtful taunts in reply, but I couldn't just sit at some corner of the house and don't do anything to make things better.

He turned his head and gave me a disgruntled glance, "Look at you...still so shameless. You would've been enjoying your time here right? After all, you don't have to live in that shabby, four-walled apartment."

My lips trembled as I found myself at the brink of tears, "It's not true." I barely whispered. His brows raised in disbelief. 

"Don't leave your house because of me. I won't come in front of you if that would make you comfortable."

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