Chapter 40: Chapter 40

"J-jee?" She tried to feign ignorance. Her hands had turned clammy.

(What?)

"Where is your ring?" He placed the pen on the table and the tick tick sound was gone.

She began to fidget with her fingers, unable to produce a response. Her tongue suddenly weighed tons. Her eyes found the table where he had placed that pen. There was his macbook, some files, papers and pen-holders. It was large and neat. To the left of his laptop was a cup of coffee that he had maybe forgot to drink as the cup was still untouched and the coffee appeared to be turn cold as no steam was rising. In the glass of the table, she could see his reflection. His eyes was on her face yet hers on the table. Then her eyes moved towards her reflection. Her face exposed to the broad day-light, as she stood infront the window. Her face looked paled. Her fingers fidgeting with each others. Above her head she could see the LED light and suddenly the reflection of it was distorted as she saw water- a tear drop landing on it.

She didn't even realize when she had started crying. This has become a thing recently for her, since what had happened with her in Dubai. Whenever she would find herself in a tight corner with him, first thing that would happen would be her eyes turning watery without her realization. She was never a cry-baby. But it seemed like she became one now.

She sniffed, cleaning her nose with the cough of her shirt, all the while, looking at her reflection in the glass- not looking up at him or even at his reflection. Her tied-tongue couldn't utter a word. Not even any apologies.

"Sheharzaad," he snapped his fingers, making her jolt at her place and she looked up, "where is your ring?" He asked again and she could already see a subtle frown drawn on his forehead.

Now, she held her hands tightly, "sorry," she whispered at last, "I f-forgot to wear it,"

"You are testing my patience,"

She curled her toes inwards. This situation wasn't getting any better than this.

"Sorry," She uttered again and immediately cleared the tear of terror that escaped her eye.

At this, he stood up and her head jolted up at him as her eyes broadened. On its own accord, her feet began to take multiple steps away from him. "This won't happen again, I promise,"

"Go back to your home, get your ring and only then appear infront my eyes," he ordered and she abruptly nodded her head and quickly rushed out of his office.

And she wondered what kind of a relationship was this? He just wanted his mark on her finger. There was no love for her in his heart. There was just a want of her.

It just made more tears spill out of her eyes and she went back to her room just to get that ring.

....

He had demanded her presence for a day to assist him and she did as she had no other option. True to his words, he didn't come closer to her. As if there was a strict professional relation between them. He had called a meeting of the heads of different departments. He seemed to winding up things as if he had to go to somewhere.

They just got done with the meeting and they were in the elevator. Her eyes landed on the ring that laid proudly on her finger as if it owned her more than she did and again the thought of engagement hit her.

Throughout her whole life, she had always imagined a loving and caring husband for her. Who would love her to the end of the world. One tear from her eye and he would burn the world. Calm her. Soothe her. The want grew more when her parents was gone as the wish to be loved, cherished and wanted, increased by leaps and bounds. Apart from setting her career, she always imagined her life with a man who would love in true sense.

But the point where her life was standing was nothing like she imagined.

Shehryaar was completely opposite from the man of her dreams. A dark and a grey character. He wasn't a vanilla guy. He just cared about his want.

The incident of today's morning reminded of what she meant to him. She was just a thing. Nothing more than a thing for him that he wanted.

All he cared about the ring on her finger?

All he cared about his mark on him?

But what about her feelings?

If he was so serious regarding marrying her, then why was not there any love. Why was he marrying her? Once this infatuation with her would be over, would he throw her? Or would he make her reach the same state as that of that woman?

All these thoughts constricted her throat.

And given how much her life was encaged and controlled by him, she couldn't do anything. She was so helpless. Her status was alleviated from a human to just a thing of obsession. It shredded her heart into piece. It reminded her of all those dreams that she had wooven while thinking about her future husband.

The dreams shattered. Along with her heart.

She didn't realize, when the elevator had dinged open, he had stepped out and was now looking at her. But her eyes were still struck on the ring on her finger.

A hand came across her vision that held her hand and was now leading them both.

She looked up in realization only to find them at their floor. Her eyes cursorily landing on Maria. His ex-secretary. And the daggers in her eyes were quite visible that she was throwing towards Sheharzaad.

He led her to his office, opened the door and once they both were alone, he shut it and then gently pinned her against the wall. Her back touched a button and the lights off the room dimmed.

"What's going on in this head?" he asked, tapping his fore-finger at her forehead.

"Nothing," she muttered.

"Nothing?"

"Yes, nothing,"

"You can tell me, zaad,"

"And why does it even matter to you that what's going on in my head?" her eyes snapped up at him, "why do you even care?!"

His brows raised at her sudden sharp voice.

"All you care about is yourself," she muttered.

"Is that what you've been thinking?"

"No," she looked away to her right.

He turned her face towards him, "tell me clearly, Sheharzaad,"

"Why? Do you care about me? Why should I? When all you care about is yourself?" Without realization, the volume of her voice had increased.

"Shhh," he placed the knuckle of his forefinger on her lips that made her lips part slightly, "do you want the whole building to listen to this?"

Again, she clenched her jaw and folded her arms against her chest.

"Is that what is going on in your head?"

"No," she answered sharply.

Stubborn, lady.

"Look at me," This time he used his 'that' voice and instantly her heart froze and she immediately looked towards him, "now tell me,"

"It's nothing," She whispered, looking down. And quickly realized her mistake and looked up at him again. "Sorry. I'm sorry," she apologized, recalling how much it angered him whenever she didn't make an eye contact when they were conversating.

"Relax," he just said, noticing the panic in her eyes.

A few moments elapsed and she at last muttered what was messing up with her mind, "Why are you marrying me when you don't love me?" Her voice wasn't above a whisper yet it conveyed every emotion that she felt. And then her eyes dropped down to his chest.

"When there is no love in it, then why this marriage? Why are you marrying me?" She uttered, "all you want is my body. Not me, Shehryaar," She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, "I feel like I'm just a piece of thing. I was free before you. I never felt as if I'm just a rag doll," She shut her eyes tightly. He could see her pupils moving through her eye-lids and she opened them again and this time around stared at him. Her hand moved and took-off the scarf from her head before throwing it away on the floor. She came close to him, holding the lapels of his coat. Their nose touching. Eyes colliding with each other.

"You can.... you can do whatever y-you want with me," she didn't realize the tear slipping from her eyes, "for as long as you want. And once your obsession is over, leave me. But don't marry me if all you want is my body. If all you have is lust and obsession for me," She stared directly in his eyes and once she was done speaking, she stepped away from him, taking a few steps back and then bobbed her head down, shutting her eyes.

"If y-you want," her lips began to shiver, "if you want I-I can t-take off m-my clothes," Her body shook with these sentences alone.

Her ears caught the sound of his footsteps coming towards her. Her throat bobbed. Her hands formed a tight fist.

She shut down all the voices in her head that were forcing her to back away.

She didn't want to now. She just wanted to get rid of being felt as just a thing. A mere thing.

He stopped. And she could feel as if he was right infront her.

The intensity of her heartbeat increased by leaps and bounds in her ears.

What would he do?

Tear her clothes?

Kiss her?

Or bend her over the table?

Make her orgasm?

The thoughts alone made her body shake and she stopped herself from taking a step back.

She knew all he had for her was Obsession. And when she was presenting the chance herself, he would take it eventually.

Her eyes opened and she found him standing infront her, his hand holding her scarf.

"Fine, I'll take it," he said, snatching the ground beneath her feet. The realization hit her hard. And this time, she took a step away from him.

"No," she whispered to herself

What I've done?

That night momentarily flashed infront her vision and it bore more power to her footsteps

One step.

Then another step.

And she kept backing away.

When she had presented him the opportunity to him at first place then why was she backing off? She tried to find the answer to this question when a suppressed thought from the heaps of emotions rose.

"Himmat nhi hai muj mei," she uttered the truth and saw him stepping towards her with assured steps.

(I don't have enough courage)

"I thought I was brave enough but I can never be this brave to sell myself again," She whispered, more to herself. The memories of the night hit her again.

She saw him coming closer and stopped just infront her.

"Forget I ever said that," she said to him. He remained quiet and observed her with keen eyes. Then he moved his hand and she felt a warmth spreading around her neck that was tingling with cold sensations since she had thrown away her scarf. And then she realized, it was warmth of a fabric.

She found him wrapping her head in the same scarf that she had thrown.

"Don't worry. I won't touch you until our nikkah as I said,"

The word 'nikkah' alone brought chills to her spine.

He just had said to test her and somehow found his heart satisfying when she backed off.

And then his arms moved on their own accord and, she was enveloped in a hug. The warmth of his body, spreading around her. His hand softly moving against her scarf-cladded head. Momentarily, his eyes closed, inhaling her scent, feeling her warmth.

"I don't know how to love," he whispered and found his heart skipping a beat.

A weird emotion brewing up within the core of his chest.