Chapter 30

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"Afrah?"

"I am not getting married to Fahad, Umma," she said immediately, struggling to keep her breathing steady. "I do not want to get married to him."

"How did you..."

"I told you I don't want this, Umma," she cried. "Why do you keep trying to frustrate my life?"

"If you'll stop raising your voice at me for a minute, then we can talk like civilized adults," her mother replied irritatingly. "I'm still your mother, Afrah."

"I don't want an explanation," she said. "I'm not getting married to him and that's final."

"You don't get to decide, Afrah," she said, her temper beginning to rise. "I am your mother, and you shall do as I say. Fahad's parents are coming today, and we are going to accept their proposal whether it is right by you or not. Do you think every woman out there gets to marry the man she wants? Do you think we would force you into a marriage that would hurt you?"

"Why does it always have to be what you want?" she said. "For once, why can't it be about what I want?"

"What is it that you want?"

"I want to be left alone," she said. "I want you to let me be free to make my own decisions. I refuse to be forced into a marriage which will ruin my life. I will not leave my future up in the air, riddled with uncertainty. Maybe that worked during your time, but it won't work now."

"Afrah," she gasped, "how dare you..."

She hung up before her mother could get in another word, flinging her phone across the room. Mercifully, it landed in the closet, among the safety of her clothes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sides until her fingers began to dig into the wood. She realized that she was shaking with anger, and her blood was boiling more than it ever had.

The audacity of it all was what shocked her. How could they plan to do this behind her back? Did they know how she would react if she found out? Or did they just not care?

Her phone began to ring again, but she ignored it as she leapt off the bed and began to pace the length of the room. Her anger was threatening to boil over, and she needed something to do to calm her mind. She needed an outlet to siphon all the pent-up emotions in her. Her eyes darted her phone once again, and she understood.

The easiest target was right within her reach.

Fahad answered on the first ring, as though he were anticipating her call.

"Have you changed your mind so quickly?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Fahad, I want you to call off this stupid sham of a proposal at once," she said. "I am completely, utterly, unequivocally and absolutely uninterested."

"And why should I do that?" he asked. "I like you, and I want you to be my wife."

"I don't care what you like or what you want, Fahad," she spat. "I refuse to be forced into a marriage I do not want."

"The wheels have already been set in motion, Afrah," he said calmly. "You cannot stop fate."

"What do you want from me?" she cried, sinking onto the bed. "What exactly is it that you want?"

"I don't want anything from you, Afrah," he said. "I just want you; the full package."

"Why?"

"Why?" His laughter was bitter, pregnant with suppressed misery. "Is it not enough that I want you?"

"That is not a reason," she said. "How can you say something like that?"

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