18 Chapter 18

Haya's POV

The nails of my right hand are officially looking disgusting. I've been biting them since the past thirty minutes, pacing my room since fifteen, and losing my patience now. I'm sweating profusely, dragging in long breaths and blowing out through my mouth in an attempt to calm my heart, yet all the attempts seem ineffective.

Just like the fan above my head.

Although Aarib has made it quite clear through his texts that he couldn't care less whether my family agrees to this marriage or not, it doesn't change the fact that they are my family and the last thing I'd want to do is run away. That would be awful. Still, I have that option somewhere in the back of my head because if running away means my family's lives wouldn't be in danger, I'd gladly do that, with just a dash of guilt.

And a sprinkle of remorse.

When I think about my life with Aarib. . . I feel thrilled. From as long as I can remember, I always wanted to get married after starting my university, but Allah SWT knows best and He plans best for us.

I cast my eyes to the door and sigh. What's taking so long?! They've been having this meeting for a solid forty minutes now. What could possibly take this long?

As I am about to yank open the door, it gets opened from the outside. It's Maira. And she's grinning. I feel all the tension roll off of me in waves, lightening the burden on my chest, my shoulders and my whole entire body. I even feel stupid traitorous tears prick my eyes, but I am too indorsed in wanting to hear what Maira has to say that I don't wipe them away when they roll down my cheeks. I know what's her answer, but I need to hear it.

"You're soon going to be Mrs. Aarib," she laughs, and there, right in this moment, I experience what relief really feels like.

Some people define relief as what they feel when their heart doesn't go all stupid crazy with the pumping blood and when your chest finally relaxes instead of being constricted. And you can finally smile without it having to be a forced one.

To me, relief is like a best friend after a break up. No matter how many times we fight, it comes back to me, bringing along with it happiness and content and satisfaction to some extent. And as I was grinning and laughing with Maira, I felt everything in every bone of my body. The thrill, the excitement. The urge to see Aarib, tell him everyone's agreed.

Maira exits the room to get me something to eat since I've haven't had anything since last night.

I took that opportunity to call Aarib and tell him everything. Flopping on the bed, I giggle and put the phone to my ear, hearing the line ring. It went straight to voice mail. I frown, dialing his number over and over again for like five times. What even? We were just chatting a while ago, and now he's not picking his phone up?

"Hey kid, come downstairs!" Hassan calls out from downstairs.

I tell him I'll be there in a few.

A weird feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, growing with every click of the seconds that pass. I stare at the phone. My nerves grow anxious. I look heavenwards and sigh. . .maybe he just got busy–but it's a saturday, where could he go so early?

I reach the bedroom door when the phone starts chiming. I all but sprint to the bed and grab it, Aarib's name flashing on the screen.

I hit receive.

"Where were you! I called you so many times!" I whine, expressing my discontent.

On the other end, a sinister laugh echoes through the phone and my blood chills. Terror sweeps through my blood, making my legs feel like jelly. My legs start wobbling so I force myself to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"What did you do to him?" My voice sounds weak. Almost desperate to want answers.

Feroze lazily sighs on the other end. "The good question is, what am I going to do with him. You see, Haya, I want my brother to come back to his home. He is a born mafia, he cannot change that. I gave him an option to come with me willingly. He chose the hard option, so now I am taking him with me."

I'm panicking. My nerves have been growing frantic with every tick of the clock.

"He doesn't want to go with you!" I suddenly find my voice. "Where is he?" I want to hear his voice. I want to talk to him, hear him say himself that he is okay.

"He is here with me by his own choice, Haya."

"You're lying," I hiss out. "You're lying. I want to talk to him."

His laugh makes my skin crawl with disgust. "Okay. As you wish."

There's some ruffling on the other end, following by the slamming of doors and some men speaking some foreign language I am guessing is Italian.

And then silence.

"Aarib?" My eyes well with tears. I can hear him breathing softly, listening to me just like I am. A feeling of longing and despair blossoms inside my chest, making it difficult to breathe. "Say something. Please."

"Forget about me. Forget we ever met. Forget all us."

Now I wish he wouldn't have said anything. He's gone to being the old Aarib, the callous, mean, heartless boy who wouldn't even talk to me. Who wouldn't look at me. His voice reminds me of the time when he came over to study, and that was the first time he ever came to my house. When he said all those words that hurt me.

That's what Aarib is reminding me of.

"Where are you?" I ask despite the pang of pain that shoots through me. Through my heart.

"At the airport."

I'm surprised at the transparent honesty in his words. I wish he'd lie to me. I wish he'd say all this is just a joke. Just a stupid, unfunny prank. But it's not. Because he would never go to Feroze.

"What are you doing there?" I sound desperate. Weak. Helpless.

"Going away. I'm going to get a new sim. This is the last time we're talking. If you want to say something—"

"If I want to say something?" I scoff, silent tears falling down my cheeks. "Are you hearing what you're saying? What nonsense you're uttering? Aarib we were going to get married! That's why I was calling you! My family has agreed to it. And now you're just leaving?"

"I'm doing it to keep you safe don't you get it?" he roars, almost making me drop the phone. "You need to let go of me. Just—don't ever call me again. Bye, Haya. And remember, you always find someone else even when you think your heart doesn't want to move on."

The line disconnects.

Everything within me shatters to the core. I can't seem to breathe. My breath is stuck in my throat, my lungs deserting me. I gasp as my knees hit the floor and my phone slips through my hands.

What is happening?

All the oxygen whooshes out of me, rendering me to a shock. I open my mouth to call for help but nothing comes out. My hands helplessly clutch my shirt in a death grip doing nothing to help.

I wonder if this is what heartbreak feels like. Like you just cannot breathe and the mere thought of losing that person drives a knife through your chest. Except, it isn't just a thought anymore. I've lost Aarib. I've lost him. . .he's never coming back to me.

Someone cries out a loud sorrowful cry. Like a lone wolf.

Me. I'm that someone.

Loud sobs are raking through me filled with so much pain that my heart is aching. My whole body is drowning in unbearable and extreme pain.

"Oh my God!"

"Haya! Haya! What happened! Hassan get the car ready we need to take her to the hospital!"

"What is wrong with her!"

"Pick her up! I think she's not breathing—crap!"

I succumb to the darkness that's calling me. Darkness that has it's hand stretched towards me, calling me, inviting me in it's home.

And I put my hand in it's black, shapeless form.