Chapter 5: Can I Kiss You?

•AMISH'S POV•

"It's okay. I appreciate your generosity... but I'm not your wife by choice. Just another option. Yeah, if it was Feeha... it would have been different."

Her words, it hit harder than a bullet. Too deep.

She didn't know but I noticed how her voice cracked and all I could do was to stare at her.

I love you Irha, it has always been you. When can I tell this to you staring right into your eyes? Those smoky grey orbs which does wonders to my heart.

Minutes passed by and all I did was to gaze at her sleeping form like a little girl, hunched up. Grabbing my blanket, I wrapped it around her, pulling it upto her shoulder.

Before I could pull back, I leaned closer and stroked her hair, whispering,

"You will never be a second choice to me, Irha. You have always been my first even when you didn't know."

"And even when I knew nothing about you."

My gaze then shifted to her cheek. The pink mark was still there. My eyes darkened, jaws tightening.

Aymen, no matter who you are but you will pay for this. I will make sure of it.

Then I moved to get the first aid kit. I remember having a doctor prescribed cream for bruises and marks.

As I took dab of cream, I slowly, carefully applied it on her cheek. Her cheek was so soft, too soft against my fingers. Making sure I blended and applied the cream on place, I stood up.

Running a hand through my hair, I pulled back, moving ahead to offer prayers. An act to show my gratitude to the Almighty.

Once I was done praying, I pressed my forehead to the mat.

"Ya Allah, Thank you. Thank you for giving me my angel back."

"Thank you... for giving me this chance. Even if it hurts like hell."

"Thank you for answering my prayers"

My angel. My answered prayer.

As I sat there, the air felt still - like time paused just to hear a broken man's whispered prayer.

With that, I layed completely on the prayer mat as it wrapped me around a comfort that only Rabb can give. Knowing that our life has a long way to go, I still hoped that one night, she will sleep in my arms and love me the way I love her.

The night felt too long not because of any activity but because of the body aches of sleeping on the floor for the first time in my 29 years of life. The sunrays fell right on my eyes, unlike other days I couldn't pull the blanket but had to wake up for the first day after my wedding.

But what came to my sight was something I would die to wake up everyday.

My wife's sleeping on the couch, silent, innocent and peaceful despite the thoughts inside her. Though she seemed uncomfortable, she's perfectly fitting to the couch. Oh how little she is.

Time ticked by and I didn't bother to move. All I did was to stare at her sleeping like I did last night. I crawled closer to the couch, my eyes fixed on her.

"Good morning, angel" I murmured softly, my fingers brushing away her hair from her face. My lips were twitching to place it on her but I reluctantly stood up. Her permission comes first and I can't take advantage of it when she's asleep.

I stretched my body and the body aches didnt get relieved so I decided to hit the gym. After spending a few hours at the gym, I returned back to my room.

Once I had freshen, I slid into my pants. As my eyes scanned around, I couldn't find my white shirt so I hanged the towel around and stepped into the room.

One. Two.

That's it as I took two steps, I heard her voice.

"Have some shame. Incase you forgot, I am not Feeha but Irha Shah."

Turning around, I met her gaze. Deep and fierce. A complete contrast to the little woman who was sleeping on the couch. Taking long strides, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her flush close against my bare chest.

She gasped, softly but acted nonchalant. Her eyes darted everywhere but she was too stubborn to land it on mine.

"Correction, Irha Amish Rehman" I whispered near her ear, my breath fanning on her skin.

Keeping her close to me made something do in my stomach. Butterflies? Maybe.

Unable to resist the urge to kiss her, I asked before my control could snap anytime soon.

"Can I kiss you?"

Her eyes met mine, wide and nervous.

As I watched her closely, I noticed her hesitating. Her little palm fisted. So I leaned down closer and poked her cheek. My nose firmly pressed against her soft cheek.

A moment of dopamine.

I stood frozen, staying longer than necessary, inhaling her scent.

But then I felt her hands on my chest, pushing me hard that I stumbled.

Shit. Did I cross the line? Was she uncomfortable?

I looked at her. Her breath uneven, panicking.

As I reached out to cup her cheeks, she yelled making me stop mid air.

"Stay in your limits."

Pain. Hurt. Anger. I couldn't decipher what exactly I felt but it hurted deep down in my heart.

With a curt nod, I moved out of the room after picking my shirt.

As I stood outside the room, waiting for her to join me so that we can go down together. Of course, she knows none here and she would definitely feel out of place.

I felt my phone vibrate as Azran's call gained my attention. As I swiped, I heard his playful tone.

"Dude, were you too rough on her?" Typical Azran, no filter at all.

"Shut up" I yelled at him over the phone.

"Oops sorry, did I disturb your morning round? Seems like you are sexually frustrated" he added, testing my patience.

Taking a deep sigh, controlling my anger I replied, an attempt to change the topic.

"Why did you call?"

Anyways before he could reply, I continued.

"Let's go racing."

"Tonight?" He asked, unsure.

"No. Now." I replied short.

"Are you okay?" No, I am not. Not when the thought of her disliking my touch and having someone in her heart gnawing in my mind.

I hummed, avoiding any further questions.

"Alright. Let's meet at my house." That's how close we are, we don't need words to share anything. Even silence would let the other person know what's bothering our mind. We read each other like open books. Sometimes it feels like a blessing but at this moment it feels like a curse.

"I will call you back later" I replied as I heard the door opening sound.

The sea blue shalwar complimented her like she was the sea goddess. The shawl clinging on her shoulder. It seemed like she owned the colour. I wanted to look at her, longer, forever. But the memories of our previous moments together stopped me.

I walked ahead as she followed closely beside me. We shared no words, only silence.

As we reached the dining room, everyone had already taken their seat.

"Good morning" I greeted to everyone to which everyone smiled back in reflex.

"Have your seats, dear" my uncle, Mr. Raheem said while my dad was focusing on his breakfast.

Once Irha took her seat, I sat beside her.

"Feel yourself at home dear" I heard my mom as she was about to serve Irha who sat like a scared little kitten.

Stopping mom in mid, I spoke to mom as she nodded with an understanding smile, "Mom, I will serve."

Our eyes met once as I served her but she quickly averted as the morning incident was still fresh in our minds.

Just the mere thought of her loving someone else feels like a continous stabs in my heart. If it turns out to be the truth, I swear I don't know how will I manage to accept it.

Shaking away my thoughts, I filled my plate after hers. I have had already lost my appetite.

Silence prevailed as we all continued to have our breakfasts except for the discussions about the reception prepartion which would be held tomorrow night.

I glanced at her every now and then, making sure she didn't notice.

"Uhm dear.. We have a custom for the new brides to cook for the entire family on her first day of marriage" my mom dropped, slightly hesitating yet holding onto a hope. Mom always connected her heart to these customs, an act of preserving our ancestors presence.

My eyes met hers and I could already sense her nervousness.

"Could you handle it, Irha?" My aunt asked. Anyone could read her mind even if she stays silent, just like how her eyes turned big and round right now.

"Auntie, I - "

Before Irha could even speak, my dad interupted. Loud and rude, a tone which he uses to express his final decisions.

"What does your question mean? The customs we followed, Amish and his wife will do it. And, this girl has to - "

It was my turn to interupt dad this time.

"She's not some girl, dad. She's my wife." I corrected him. Honestly, I didn't like the tone he uses when he involves in conversations related to Irha.

This is a direct contrast to fun, chill dad that we usually witness inside our home beyond the corperate world. Though most of the times, we don't get to live together ever since I became a pilot, the connection we had never wavered.

"And she will cook lunch for our family, don't worry" I reassured confidently, meeting my dad's gaze.

The breakfast time ended with the tensed atmosphere ever since then.

•IRHA'S POV•

The door clicked shut behind him, and silence fell like a shroud. My fists loosened. My shoulders dropped. My breath came out in uneven shudders I hadn't realized I'd been holding in.

Why do I always do this?

I slumped to the edge of the couch, my fingers digging into the fabric as if it would keep me from falling apart.

He asked before even coming close. He looked at me like I was... something precious. His voice, his breath, the way his arms wrapped around me - it should've felt suffocating, disgusting. Like it always felt for me.

But it didn't.

What scared me more was that it felt warm. Too warm. Too safe. Too dangerous.

"Stay in your limits," I had yelled. As if I was warning him. But truth is, I was warning myself.

Because if I let my guard down even a little... I might forget that this marriage wasn't supposed to happen. That I was never his first choice. That Feeha was supposed to be in this room. Not me.

So I do what I've always done.

Push away. Stay cold. Stay distant.

Because what if he's pretending? What if one day he realises it was all a mistake and I'm left holding a heart that never belonged to me? Or what if one day he finally shows his real facade, just like all men.

But then again... what if he's not?

What if he really meant it when he said "Irha Amish Rehman" like I was more than just a replacement?

Ugh.

I pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes, blinking back tears I didn't even know were threatening to spill.

Why do you make me feel this way, Amish?

Why do you look at me like I'm your world - when I've never even been someone's option before?

Then everything went on in silence, yet his presence still gave a warmness amidst the hate I have for him. Amidst the suffocation that I should feel.

Even after when the breakfast was over, the tension didn't. Amish's mom and aunt have been insisting to help me, but a part of me didn't want to seek it even if I needed it.

Stupid. Stubborn. Yeah, I know.

With a gentle pat on my cheek, his mother and aunt left the kitchen after instructing me the places of the ingredients they have kept. Not like I could cook if I knew those places. And worse part, half of the ingredient and spices, I heard them for the first time.

As they disappeared from my sight, I searched easy recipes to cook on YouTube with a determination.

I didn't know what to cook so I ended up choosing my favourite - chicken pulao.

One after another, I spended nearly thirty minutes or more for just watching the videos.

This can't be going on like this. I mean I don't wanna impress anyone but ahhh. I don't know.

I slammed my phone on the counter. Heck with Amish. Couldn't he just ask me whether I can cook. Idiot.

"If you wanna punch my face, just say it. Don't break the phone instead" I heard his voice again. Distant yet warm, not to forget the voice I am hating now.

I ignored his voice like I have been ignoring this marriage life, ever since we got married. Moving to the cabinets, I collected the ingredients I needed.

With the little knowledge I knew, I started to work on the food.

As I struggled to cut the onions, Amish pulled the knife from me and started to cut them with practiced ease.

Did he find out that I don't know to cook? Damn. Why didn't I just admit that in the first place instead of embarassing myself? Should I offer to cook by myself?

Breath Irha. Just ask it, stop overthinking.

"Let.. Let me do it.." Great, I stammered infront of him again. Why do I always end up like I lack of words or is scared of him.

I waited for him pass me the cutting board and knife, instead all I received was his silence.

"I said right.. Let me do it.. I ca - "

He interupted me, his sleek index finger pressed firm against my lips.

"Shh"

That's all he said and I obeyed not because I wanted to but, because something inside me turned off. My mind went blank and I just went silent, just like that.

He pulled back his finger like it burned, reminding me of my own words. He then focused back on making something, I didn't even know.

While I stood by the counter, watching him cook. I might have appeared like a creep. He knew I was looking at him and his precised actions but I just didn't know what else to do. I was guilty and helpless but I didn't agree to cook on the first place so it's even. Isn't it?

Minutes passed by and he had already made the main dish - chicken biriyani. And now he's preparing kheer, while I was just staring at him in suprise and gratitude.

Then we arranged the table together in silence. It was him who did everything, I just did small tasks because I was already feeling guilty. But then as lunch time approached, Amish disappeared.

We waited for him but he didn't return anytime back soon. I hate to say but a small part of me searched for him. For what? I don't know. Maybe to thank him. Maybe.

As minutes passed by, Amna aunt, his mom called Amish and he had asked us to eat.

I didn't know for what exact reason but I wanted to know why he left when he was the one who cooked everything for me. Maybe something more important than this came up.

As the lunch ended, his mom, aunt and uncle appreciated me for something I never did. Yet I just thanked them with a smile. That's all I knew I could do - pretend because ever since the time I got married, I knew I was trapped into a life I never wanted.

And meanwhile his dad just curtly nodded and left, his face, void of expressions. I knew he hated me, I just didn't know the reason. I am used to feel like I never belonged so his attitude towards me ain't a big deal. Infact I won't be suprised even if the entire family of his reacts this way because of course I am not the bride they choosed.

As I cleared the table with Aunt Amna, my hands worked on autopilot. Smile, nod and repeat.

It almost felt rehearsed now - this whole pretending to fit in role I never auditioned for.

Amish still hadn't returned.

A small part of me - the weak, ridiculous part kept glancing toward the door.

But it remained shut.

Maybe he had somewhere better to be. Or someone else to think about. Someone who was supposed to be here in the first place.

Feeha.

I hated that her name still lingered in my thoughts like a shadow that wouldn't leave.

Guess it would never leave. Not when I am here, where she should be.

I wasn't angry at her. I never could be. But I couldn't stop myself from wondering if she'd have done all this better. Cooked. Smiled. Belonged.

And a part of me still wonders, why did she had to flee away when this life was what she wanted.

I didn't belong here.

Not with these people who were too kind. Not in this house that didn't feel like mine. And especially not with a man who looked at me like I mattered - when we both knew I never was the first choice.

Maybe I'm just the right fit in the wrong story.

And maybe that's all I will ever be.

So how's the chapter? What scene did you like the most? What do you think of Irha's sudden outburst, Amish's love and silence?