My masculinity.
Work.
Modelling.
Three friends.
Betty.
Businesses.
These were my top priorities. I never cared about anything else other than these six things. Why should I? Nobody gave a valid reason for me to regard other things or people. Not even my own parents and siblings. They all pinned my own best friend's death blame on me and assumed everything will be okay? Come on, that's not how my cells work.
I realised that the world wasn't as beautiful as Noor always believed it to be. You could be the nicest and most selfless person ever to people but they would still stab you behind your back. Trust takes years to build,seconds to break and forever to forget.
I figured out that without friendships,there is no betrayal. Showing too much kindness denotes vulnerability. Sometimes kind people may lack the ability to put boundaries in place, and may set themself up for disrespect or abuse.
That was when I changed. I set boundaries. I built borders. I became arrogant, rude, crusty, gruff and in your special case, a jerk. I turned abrupt and unceremonious in speech and manner.
I knew how I was, I know what I was doing and I was well aware of how much I was hurting the people around me. I can never forget how Amma would cry in the night just because of me, Abi would sit me down and give me a one hour long speech but all he said were meaningless to me, Harisa and Arianna were afraid of me. They could talk to me, joke around sometimes, try to have a decent conversation with me but I would never budge. That stone cold expression always scurried them off. But that didn't stop them from wanting to flaunt my wealth to the world, they were girls and also my sisters after all, I didn't have a problem with that.
Tareeq on the other hand was the hardest to deal with. The boy was cocky and too adamant to handle. Despite my coldness, harshness, and infamous glares, it never kept him away. He didn't care about how I treated him, all he did care about was the fact that I was present most of the times. He would always disturb my peace in my room by telling me about his day and whatnot, not that I cared. But he still did. I would usually give him a simple nod, shook my head, or replied with my eyes. That was my language to people after all.
Tareeq though never took any of it to heart, he was my younger brother and slowly I started opening up to him. I don't know how he did it, but he did. It was when I had a vasovagal attack in his presence and he was the only one that could help. I couldn't decline his help then because I felt like I was dying. After, I narrated everything about myself to him. Trust me, it was unwillingly because he threatened me.
Stunning yeah? Threatening a whole Farooq Khaleed. That's Tareeq for you.
He threatened to tell everyone about my vasovagal syncope which I couldn't ever let anyone know, but unfortunately for me, he found out. So I didn't have a choice nor could I bribe him out of it. The eight years difference didn't bother him, he still managed to squeeze himself into my life.
The day that altered with everything in my life was my first day at the office. I had just recently opened my own company and it was the first meeting I organised with the workers and employees. I overslept that day so I woke up really late. The meeting was set to be by ten in the morning and I was almost tardy. I hate tardiness with every fibre in me, so I had no other option but to follow the wrong lane.
Unluckily, I almost hit an old woman. Well I and the other person driving the black Jaguar. The rage I had in me at that moment was indescribable and couldn't be quenched. But the beautiful creature that stepped out of the car swept me off my feet. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever set eyes on, and that's not even arguable.
Little did I know she was fire herself disguised as a dashing damsel. I've never been more pissed off since Noor's death like how I was on that day. No one, literally no one talks to me like that but she had the audacity to spew venom on me. People are usually frightened by my mere presence but she fixated her harsh gaze deep inside my eyes. She held my gaze to firmly and no hint of fear was sensed in her.
I hated her right there and then.
The next day, I found out that she was actually my Abi's childhood friend's daughter. Abi, Mr Mahir and Mr Sayhaan were basically brothers. Baba Kaka raised them all together so the bond was tight and firm. After my awful discovery, I realised that there was no avoiding her since she's my sorta cousin. No matter how and what I would do, there was no possible way of not seeing her once in a while.
She was Baba Kaka's Sabrina. I envied her since when I was little due to how Baba Kaka speaks about her. She was his favourite grandchild despite the fact that she wasn't exactly blood. But what confused me more was that she was nothing like he had described her to be.
Well, whatever.
As long as she doesn't open that silly mouth of hers to say rubbish to me again.
Five years later, I had now become a self made billionaire. That too one of the world's youngest one. Modelling and Architecture was my key to triumph. It was the only thing that kept me going because truth be told, despite having all those amount of wealth. I wasn't happy. I knew it but never accepted it openly. The only good thing was that I always had my friends by my side. They put up with my arrogance, stubbornness and gigantic ego as they say, so well. The only set of people that could lash out on me without getting a piece of my mind.
Then came the so called surprise birthday party that I was forced to attend by Amma. I'm not the most social person out there, I'm the last thing close to social. I only tolerated social gathering because it was mostly business related or had to do with professionals. But this was the birthday party that I knew half of the inhabitants of Abuja and Los Angeles would attend, no doubt there. That too of the person I hated with my all.
Amma being the manipulative mother she is, manipulated her way till I agreed to come but under the condition that my friends were also going. She forced me to buy her a gift. I didn't have a choice. I went online and ordered from Neelam's favourite jewellery store, a blue diamond ring. It was the first thing that captured my heart—oops I mean eyes.
Setting eyes on her after five long years was strange and beautiful at the same time. It was as though her beauty had increased to a surplus level. She didn't change one bit. If anything she got more beautiful and her mouth and fists became sharper.
Dragon.
That was what she was.
The birthday was boring and too affectionate for my liking so I decided to sit in my car all through the event. Later on, I heard some arguments from the other lane which I assumed was her as expected. Next thing I knew, she was running like a runaway bride with her gigantic princess dress but trust me, she ran faster than any runway bride.
At first, I shrugged it off. Then I remembered a week ago, I saved a girl from being raped by two men around the route she took. Without thinking it through, I followed her till I found her. I felt so much ease seeing nothing happened to her. I swallowed my pride and begged her to get into the car but she had the audacity to decline my offer! The girl was harder than a diamond, real hard. Reluctantly, she got in and I could see the ease her face held. Before I dropped her off, we surveyed the city at night with so much intense speed. I enjoyed every second of it.
She might be annoying and crazy, but she was the last thing to boring.
I found out how strong her hands were after she slapped Kamal Malik, Neelam's cousin. And according to the story Kamal narrated—which I had no intention to listen to but eventually did—they used to like each other or something of sort. The pain and fury her eyes held was vicious. You could see the hatred she had for him by a far distance.
He must have really hurt her I guess. Serves her right.
After she ran away back in The Sayhaan's mansion in Kaduna, her sister Aliza proved her innocence to everyone by gathering clips from the CCTV footages. After, she begged me to go after her knowing she could do anything crazy when she's upset. I did as I was told instantly. Why? Because Aliza was a different breed. A completely different person with such a loving soul even when she was a lot younger that her age. She was one of the few persons that believed in me when I was blamed years back for Noor's death. I can still remember her wiping my tears when nobody was on my side. Then how wouldn't I respect her now?
The moment I saw the gate with a warning on it to keep out, I just knew the crazy girl was inside. How she was able to cross over the gate? Only her could explain that. Luckily, I got there in time as she was about to shoot some random man. Her eyes clutched onto blazing anger and nothing but fire. It was almost as though she was a completely different person because by the looks of it, she could kill anyone if that gun wasn't kicked out of her hand. Her arm and forehead was bleeding immensely but it didn't seem to have bothered her one bit. Her sweater was halfway discarded and her scarf was about to fall out...I knew what had transpired instantly.
She was almost raped by those men.
I couldn't control myself as I attacked them with so much force. I was blinded by the anger I had in me. There's nothing, absolutely nothing I despised like men forcing themselves on women. The woman they attacked was a warrior herself so she taught them a good lesson but I wanted to kill them at that moment. But her voice halted me on my tracks.
I couldn't even do anything after she spoke. We spent the night there being blunt and rude to each other, it was our way of communicating. Both of us were bleeding immensely from different parts of our bodies. When she attempted to help me I pushed her away.
One. Because I don't trust her and she can do anything.
Two. Anytime we have physical contact, there's always this weird feeling that crawls over me.
I had to stay up all night just to watch over her because I couldn't afford anything happening to her. By the looks of it, this wasn't the first time she spent the night in the streets or shall I say, woods. She's a savage one alright. When she jumped over the fence and fell on her butt, I couldn't resist the laugh that came over me.
It was the first time I laughed in a long while and I wanted to lull myself for doing it. It felt so strange and absurd. It was almost as though my masculinity was being stolen away from me.
Then came the marriage proposal.
I had no other option but to accept. I'd do anything for Baba Kaka. I can give my life for that man. He's more of a parent to me than a grandfather. I don't know what would have become of me if it wasn't for him. So I accepted to marry Adila.
And I had also recently found out that Neelam loved me. I couldn't do anything because I never would've ever expected that from her. Love was something way beyond me and I couldn't just be with her. I love her, yes. But not in the way she would want me to love her, I loved her as a sister and a best friend. Nothing more nothing less. I wouldn't want to hurt her and I know if I end up marrying her, I'll hurt her.
That's what I do. I hurt people with my tongue, eyes and actions. The awful thing about it is that I never feel remorse for hurting anyone. My heart was long gone and it was just there for beating sake.
I married Adila.
The girl I hated with my all.
I almost preferred death than getting married to her. How was I expected to live in the same house with that insane girl? She'll end up killing me or I will. We can't go mere minutes together without getting on each other's throats. She's also loud. I hate noise with my all. And she's noise in it human form.
Loquacious.
That's Adila.
However, seeing her stroll down the stairs after our Nikkah, it was as though staring at a completely different person. She looked so adorable and endearing. Her hazel eyes were magic itself. When I held her by the waist to take the wedding pictures, I felt frissons down my spine. And believe me, it was not a feeling I usually felt. It was almost as though I had been hexed.
When I danced with her, I felt what it was like to be a Disney prince because she was a princess herself. A wild and crazy one. But I had to stop dancing when I mistakenly made eye contact with Neelam. She was crying. I can't stand seeing her in pain, the least I could do was withdraw myself from the dance floor. But I had to do it in a delicate manner because we were in public and any slight error would lead to an awful article by some of these bloggers.
Getting married had it advantages and disadvantages. Engaging in thousands of arguments in the morning or anytime we cross paths was a daily routine for both of us. The good thing about it was that she could cook and could also make the best coffee ever. That was the only factor that made it bearable for me.
Other than that, she made it her top priority to see me in agony. Distracting me from work, telling me stories I never asked for, being near me, making me strain my voice, making me engage in conversations unwillingly.
She was the only person that could make me speak for a long period of time. The only one. She was a pain in the ass no arguments there. But she was there for me during my vasovagal syncope attack. I don't know how she did it but she was able to help me in ways I never knew were possible.
That night, I saw the care and worry she had in her eyes. She was afraid. Afraid for me. The way she wrapped her arms around me with so much delicacy and concern, I couldn't resist her. I hugged her back because I wanted to. And it gave me ease. We were both seated on the floor, she was on my laps and her head was on my chest, my arms around her waist.
I felt safe and serene with her in my arms. Something i haven't felt in a really long time. I didn't feel like I was about to teeter off the edge of sanity at any moment. It was a feeling I have been craving for,for a long time. Adila did it.
She made me feel things I never thought could be felt. And I didn't like that, how could I like that?
I had to draw a line between us because I just can't handle those things anymore. But the girl was a case on her own because no matter how bad I treat her, no matter how much I ask her to stay away from me, no matter how I wound her with my words, she just doesn't listen. She always does the opposite of what I ask her to.
I even stopped eating the food prepared by her but she still prepares it every blessed day. It was as though she wasn't bothered by my own actions towards her. I thought otherwise on the last day of Ramadan.
She has a physical fight with Neelam and I instantly took my best friend's side because why not? If anything, Adila beat her up really bad, and she's always the one troubling others so I concluded that it was all her fault and lashed out on her.
I didn't care whether I hurt her with my words all that I cared about at that moment was Neelam who was crying immensely.
I chose my best friend over my wife.
Did I feel bad? Not in the slightest bit.
Till I engaged in a fist fight with Abdallah and got seriously injured. Abdallah and Malika liked her that was probably why they took her side but I wasn't buying any of it.
The girl doesn't even cry to show you how tough she is.
It was when Abdallah and Malika left me, Betty kicked me out and the bruises inflicted on me by Abdallah started hurting, that was when realisation dawned on me.
I hurt my own wife because of my best friend. And what stunned me even more was that she didn't leave me when I needed someone to be with. I pushed her away so many times but she never leaves. She's the only one that actually stayed. She always does. Little did she know that she didn't only treat my physical wounds but also the one in my heart. Nobody has ever cared for me the way Adila does.
I couldn't just watch her leave the room right after she was done, I just couldn't. I craved for her. Every bit of her. When her head was on my bare chest as my arms caged her body to mine, I almost lost it. Her hair was another sight that attracted me to her after her raspberry scent. It was so soft, straightened and had this beautiful scent that sent me over the moon.
It's been long since I slept so peacefully like I did that day.
I needed to fix things with her but I was too late. She left. Her own best friend was pronounced dead. From my Noor to her brother Saif. They were both too good for this world. Just too good.
She went away for days and didn't return. I didn't bother reaching out to her because I knew she wouldn't even spare me a glance. I had nobody. Literally nobody.
Abdallah made it clear for me to stay away from him.
Mal wasn't answering my calls.
Betty literally kicked me out.
And if I was to speak to Neelam, there is no way we'd still be friends because what she did was selfish and disheartening. He still can't believe that she could stoop that low just because of the so-called love she had for me.
I had anger issues and I wasn't the type to make rational decisions.
So I fled to Sweden for some weeks to clear my head. Each day, I felt nothing but guilt for how I treated Adila. I don't deserve her nor her benevolence. Nothing felt good. I was depressed and couldn't even do anything about it.
When I decided to return for the family dinner, it turned out that Adila almost poisoned her own mother. It was funny believe me it was, but it was also wrong. I tried making her to apologise to her mother but instead she poured my own juice on my hair and poured my food all over me, then gave me the middle finger.
I really did her bad.
I knew I deserved it.
I deserved every bit of it.
I wanted to rectify my mistake so I only returned back home when I knew she returned. I knew she would because she resumed work.
Lucky for me, that night, as I sauntered into the balcony, I found her lost in thoughts. I broke her silence but little did I know that I broke the barrier that was between us after I broke that silence. We poured our heart to each other that night in ways I never knew were possible. I told her my story and she told me hers.
I can never forgive myself for treating her the way I did. She had gone through so much in her life yet she still carries a huge smile on her foolishly cute face. She's selfless. Kind. Precious. Regard other's feelings over has. Always seeking to see other people happy. Loves her mom despite her being cruel to her. Being kind to people that don't deserve it. Every single trait of hers links back to you. The way she talks or shall I say blab, the way she behaves, the way she cares so much but never let it be too visible, the way she cares about her loved ones and even others she doesn't even know.
She was different.
Comparing her with Noor was a big mistake.
Yes, they had so many similar traits. But my Adila was different, there was none like her. Nobody can ever be like her.
When I entwine my fingers with hers and turn to look at her then she gives me that weird cute giggly expression, it never fails to sweep me off my feet. Walking with her without our hands being intertwined felt like a grace sin.
Without realising what was happening, I was falling in love with the girl I used to hate with my all.
Adila made life bearable for me. I never enjoyed living, I only did it because I had no other choice but to live. The only few people I was free with were my friends and Betty. I know it hurt my parents and siblings a lot seeing me withdraw myself away from everyone. I hated living, I hated everything about this world that my smile washed away. I forgot what it feels like to be happy, I forgot what love was. Amma cried every night just to see me act like how I used to but I never changed. I wanted to bring that old Farooq back but I didn't have the power to, I wanted to do it just for my Amma. It got to a point where she had assumed that I hated her.
It was Betty that reassured her that I still loved her so very much but I was unable to express myself. Thinking back at the person I used to be, I hate myself for hurting Amma and Abi, I hate myself for never being the big brother Arianna, Harisa and Tareeq deserved. But my Adila, changed me.
Adila moulded me into a completely different breed. I hated it at first because I thought It would snatch away my masculinity but heck was I wrong. My employees are now carefree with me, my old friends that I had pushed away are now back, my modelling team can now talk during our sessions, during our meetings I even crack a joke or two. I'm bonding with the whole family now, I laugh and joke with everyone these days. I look In the mirror and ask myself who this man is because he certainly isn't the same man from before
He was better. A version of myself which everyone loved with their all. And that's all thanks to Adila. I wouldn't have become the person I am today without her. She showed me that being feared isn't always the best feeling ever. Having people around you that genuinely have your best interest in heart is what really matters.
That night in Paris when I said I loved her, I knew I didn't fall in love with her there. I was way too arrogant to realise what I felt for her. From that day on her birthday when I slipped that ring into her finger, to when I went after her after she ran away, to when I fought those guys back in Kaduna to save her , to when she dressed my wounds, to when I agreed to marry her, to when I danced with her on our wedding day, to when we held hands for the first time, to when I'd tell her to stop talking to me, to when she removed those glasses and stayed with me after my fight with Abdallah, then to when she asked me about my story. I had always adored her but I failed to acknowledge it.
For the first time ever, I found someone that genuinely understands me without me speaking out loud. Someone that could sense my sorrow and joy from afar, someone I was ready to love till eternity.
Adila was the single greatest source of my joy.
Not so long ago I was alone and lost, and then you came along and I was home. Thank you for finding me, Sabrina Adila Khaleed.
But the error I made was treating her the way I did after she was discharged from the hospital. I injured her with my words and I didn't even realise it. Normally, she would spew back fire even harder than I did, but she kept quiet and decided to leave.
I'm scared for her as much as I love her.
She doesn't love herself the way she's supposed to. She needs to love herself and see that she really is worth it. She's more than worth it. Nobody deserves her because she was too good for any of us. When I tell her she's beautiful and loving, I don't just want her to respond for responding sake. I want her to respond because she believes it.
Seeing that scars on her thighs and finding out she's been living with a dislocated arm for years and nobody knew about it. I was scared for her. I was hurt. I was scared that she could take her own life at any moment.
I now live with guilt for being the cause of whatever happened to her.
Is she dead? I pray she's not.
Is she alive? If yes, glory be to the almighty but where could she have disappeared to.
Wherever you are my princess, just know that I'll always root for you. No matter where you are.
END OF CHAPTER
Writing this part was hard because it's a guy's POV! I literally don't know what's going on in his mind. Yes, I'm the one that made him but yet again, it's hard controlling your characters sometimes.
One last chapter left guys.
I'm literally crying 😭😭😭😭I don't want it to end Allah 🤧🤧
Zira loves y'all💕
Zira💕