Turmoils- A Muslim Love Story

Chapter 16

It took about five seconds for Mr. Aswad to lose interest in me before he turned back to his "son-in-law to be" and swung a friendly arm around his shoulders. As he led him inside, Zarina threw a dirty look in my direction before turning to her daughter.

"What was the need to bring her here? And why does she travel with Farhan all the time? And how come she's dressed like that? Isn't she his PA?" Her tone was heavily disapproving, the same way it had been 16 years ago.

"It's ok Mom. She's just with him for work purposes. It's nothing serious," she cast a shady look at me," and won't ever be." She added the last part with gritted teeth.

I think my nails have started a bleed in my palms.

The mother daughter strutted inside leaving me to follow. My brain kept yelling "don't go! don't go!" but my body seemed to have a mind of its own. My feet moved on their own accord and stepped inside the huge oak door entrance.

It had changed from how I remembered it last time. But then again, I saw it 16 years ago so there were bound to be changes happening here. The hall had completely gone from a combination of chocolate and white coloured walls with mahogany furniture and antique, exquisite, arabic paintings, which were all my mother's choices, to painfully all white. Mom's mahogany furniture had been replaced by dark black leather couches and a golden centre table with a white top.

The arabic paintings had been replaced by family photos and pictures of Zara, from childhood to adulthood, and some family portraits. My heart hammered as I looked at the large picture above the fireplace, the main of all places to hang pictures.

16 years ago, there hung a family photo of me, my mom and dad all smiles and happy.

But now, there was huge picture of Zara riding a horse instead.

Anger and despair filled my heart which was already damaged to the extent where I was cursing my own existence. I was so engrossed in looking at the details that I didn't notice everyone sit on the couches and wait for me to take a seat as well.

I quickly scrambled over to one and sat on the edge, careful not to sit too comfortably. Zarina had a very disapproving expression on her face. Now that was the only thing that hadn't changed in these years.

"Why'd you bring her Farhan dear? See, people like her have their drools dropping once they see something slightly luxurious than what they can afford," she drawled, taking a sip of the apple juice their maid had just served.

"Don't worry Aunty. Ayesha isn't poor exactly. She's actually well off." He defended.

I mentally rolled my eyes. His defence seemed so meaningless to me right now.

The kitchen maid walked out and called us all over for lunch. The family got up to eat and fa- I mean Mr. Aswad looked at me with a gentle expression, "Come on dear. Have some food with us."

I looked at him through the sunglasses and suddenly wished I hadn't. I hated him. His face. His voice. His existence. I looked away and shook my head.

"I'm not hungry," I croaked.

Before he could probe further he was pulled away by Zarina so he quickly told the maid to serve me some sandwiches in the lounge anyway. As the family left for the dinning room, Farhan hung back so he could talk to me.

As soon as they were out of sight, he sat on the couch next to me, "Ayesha, don't behave like this please. I know it's hard for you. But you knew we were coming here. So, what is this with your behaviour?"

I looked at him and pulled my shades off. Seeing my red, puffy eyes, his mouth hung open.

"What do you care? Just go have lunch with them and leave me alone," I put my shades back on and turned my back to him.