chapter 11: flashbacks

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Mine~> 5 months pregnant

"Get me a glass of coke." He says, his head facing the tv.

"I think it's finished." I reply, quietly.

"How can it be finished, I only bought it 2 days ago?" He asks, his voice rising.

"You invited your friends around yesterday, Zayan." I respond, keeping my eyes on the coffee table.

"So? Who says who I can and cannot bring to my own house?" Zayan asks, turning to me with annoyance all splattered on his face.

"Im just-" I try saying but he cuts me off with a look of disgust.

My head was pounding and my body was absolutely shattered with tiredness and anxiety.

"Get up." He states, rising from the sofa as my fingers begin to shake.

"Wha-" I ask but his hand snakes around my wrist with blunt force.

"Did you invite that guy around here?" He asks with a disgusted expression.

"Who? What are you talking about?" I ask confused as I try pulling my arm away from his grasp.

"Your friend, what's his- Haadi." He says with a sly grin.

Ever since Zayan had seen me and Haadi together that night he had grown suspicious but I didn't know him.

Hell, I wasn't married to the guy.

But I was married to the one accusing me of it.

"Are you crazy, Zayan? I'm married to you? Why would I be talking to him?" I ask, my brows knitting together.

"You may act as if you're this prestigious person, Neha but I can see through you!" He shouts as he lets my wrist go from his.

Gasping with pain, I look to my wrist to see it becoming a dark shade of red.

Great. Now that's going to leave a bruise.

Shaking his head, Zayan storms out the room to the kitchen.

Feeling the anxiety in my chest intensify, I hear a crash of a glass.

Turning around, Zayan stands there. The shattered glass cup on the floor next to him.

"Oops." He says, his voice cracking with excitement.

My gaze was still on his face, realising what kind of situation I was in.

The guy I fell in love with wasn't the same as the one who was stood in front of me.

"Clean it up." He spits, picking his phone up from the sofa, pushing me down to the ground. "With your hands."

"My fingers are gonna-" I reply.

"Do it before I do something that would make that bruise on your back worse." He tells me, his eyes darkening.

The tears in the back of my eyes were threatening to fall but I wouldn't let him see it.

Bending down to the ground, I pick up the glass pieces, feeling the tips of my fingers ooze with blood.

Putting my hand down again to pick up another piece, I feel a sharp sensation run through my hand as Zayan's foot crushes my hand with it.

I needed to scream.

Scream for help. Scream for relief. 

And yet.

When I open my mouth.

Silence.

"Missed a spot." He smugly says as my hand struggles to move underneath.

Letting out a breath of pain I let out a sharp scream.

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