chapter ninteen

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I stared at him in disbelief and shock, unable to tear my gaze away from him while he simply looked back at me with his usual straight face, no expression, nothing at all.

"I-"

"Do you like it?"

"What?" I asked.

His gaze fell towards the book I was holding in my hand. "The book. Do you like it?"

Is he being real? First, he read that out loud, and now he is asking me such a question with that straight face on. Is he real?

"I that.." I stuttered, wondering how I was supposed to reply to him. As I stood there, my senses heightened as he suddenly took a deliberate step forward, his presence looking closer towards me.

Why is he coming close..? Suddenly the reminders of our previous intimate interactions played inside my head and instinctively, mirroring his movements, my muscles tensed up as I took a cautious step backward with my guard up.

His eyes, intense and searching, seemed to pierce through the sudden awkward silence that enveloped us. The atmosphere cracked with tension, each second felt like an eternity as we stood there locked in a silent standoff. It was as if the very air between us was charged with unspoken words.

Then, abruptly, he halted in his tracks, his gaze shifted slightly as if he had noticed the subtle shift in my stance. And that made it even worse. The realization of the awkwardness hung heavy between us, thickening the silence and making it almost palpable.

Breaking the tension, I mustered the courage to speak, my voice barely above a whisper, "My book.." I extended my hand out, trembling slightly, and took the book from his grasp. His silence was deafening as he watched me, his expression unreadable.

Without another word, I turned on my heel, my heart continuously pounding inside my chest as I hastily made my escape from there. The sound of my hurried footsteps echoed in the stillness of the living room as I hurriedly towards my bedroom.

Reaching my room, I quickly closed the door behind me and leaned my back against the closed door. My heart was beating faster in my ribcage as if it might explode any minute. There was something weird that I felt. A type of emotion that was driving me crazy. Suddenly, my gaze shifted towards the book in my hand and I was reminded of his gaze. The way he looked at me when I took a step away from him.

What was I thinking before doing that...it's suddenly so awkward. At that moment I couldn't think straight anymore. He read the book in front of me as if he was reading a children's reading book. Is that man even aware of how it made me feel? For a minute it felt like my heart might jump out. I wanted to hide and never appear in front of him ever again.

But then again I felt butterflies in my stomach as he read it. I was not worried that he might touch me but I was worried that I would again get driven away by my emotions. I am feeling a strange sort of attraction towards him and it's not good for my own self, for my heart. This marriage is not something we both want...I shouldn't forget it.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I sat down at the edge of the bed. The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting elongated shadows across the walls. The phone, lying on the nightstand, suddenly came to life, illuminating the darkness with its bright display, averting my gaze towards itself.

I reached out for the cellphone and as my gaze fell on the display screen my heart dropped. As the name "uncle" flashed on the screen, I felt a pang of emotion coursing through me, a mixture of confusion and resentment.

Why is he calling me? A thought crossed my mind as my brows furrowed at the sight of his name.

All my relatives have turned their backs on us a long ago, my mother and me, severing the ties of familial loyalty without a second thought. And now, here is my uncle, the last remaining link to that shattered past, reaching out to me once again.

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