Must Read: The Silent Lover - Season 1 - Episode 47

7 years ago

Must Read: The Silent Lover - Season 1 - Episode 47

Zeest was not shocked for what happened after a week. Infact she was already prepared for it.

While preparing for the party Aariz’s boss had arranged to celebrate the recent remarkable sucess in marketing, Zeest knew that Aariz was going to be furious about her wearing Hijaab in the party, and she disliked making him angry, but she couldn’t afford her God’s anger either.

“I’m ready.” She announced, turning away from the dressing table. “Shall we go now?”
Aariz looked at her, his gaze sharp and searching. She felt his eyes slide over her entire body.

Dressed in a maroon Abaaya and pink scarf, she was not at all presenting a picture of a ‘high society’ party lady.

“What are you wearing?” His stare drilled into her.

“It’s my Hijaab.”
“Whatever it is. Remove it, I don’t want people looking at us like we are aliens.”
“But, it’s an islamic tradition. It’s an order of Allah and prophet.” She protested.

A shadow crossed his face, and then was promptly gone. “There you go again, trying to make me give a damn about what you think.”
“Could you please explain why I should remove my Hijaab?” Her voice trailed after him as he opened the bedroom door and stalked out. She thought he had left but he reappeared at the door once again, his eyebrows pulled together in a fierce scowl.

“I don’t have a habit of explaining myself to people I hardly know.”
“Does my wish means nothing to you?” Suddenly, she found herself asking.

“You mean nothing to me, Miss. Wife. Can’t get that into your conceited head?”
“I didn’t mean that.” She said, and opened the door to move outside.

His gaze narrowed dangerously, he reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“You are not going with me like this.” He finally announced.

“What?”
“Take this Hijaab or whatever off immediately.” He warned, his voice rumbling with restrained anger.

“Listen……”
“Don’t say no. I am not used to hearing negative answers.”
“What’s wrong if I cover myself?”
“It’s a formal, luxurious get together.” He closed his fists, trying to control his temper. “There’s a particular dress code for such parties.”
Anger made Aariz incautious, sweeping away any remaining thought of keeping himself calm.

“All of the ladies there will be showing off their glories and their expensive dresses. What would my friends and colleagues think?” He cursed under his teeth. “Damn it.”
“And how would Allah react?”
“Whatever.” He raised his hand, signaling her to keep her mouth shut. “I don’t want to hear your religious stuff anymore.”
She lowered her head but said nothing, did nothing.

“So you won’t take your veil off?” His teeth snapped together, fury swamping every other thought and consideration.

He steeped toward her in a threatening manner and his large hand swallowed Zeest’s slender wrist.
She winced in pain.

“What do you think of yourself, huh?” His voice became snake-like, his face violet with anger, veins standing out on his neck and forehead.

“I can’t take it off.” She said breathlessly.
“You wouldn’t dare.” He said in a low, deep growl.

Her lips trembled and a little gasp escaped her throat. “Please, let me go.”
‘No!” He replied with heavy irony.

“This is not your father’s house. We’re broad-minded people, not like your father…….”
Hoarsely, she said. “I love my father, he was a great man and I’m proud of being his daughter.”
Her words stung Aariz like a whip. Suddenly, he couldn’t stand it any longer. His fists raised threateningly, his face a fiery apopletic red.

He rasped her roughly by the arms.
“Another word from you and I’m going to regret myself for breaking my own rules. I know you’re a woman but don’t take advantage of that.” He countered harshly.

“If you don’t like it here lady, I don’t see anybody chaining you to this house. Why don’t you just pack up your things and go back where you came from, wherever the hell that is. Believe me, nobody here will lift a finger to stop you.”
His angry words rang in her ears as clearly as if he stood right there, hurting her more than she wanted to admit.

“As long as you’re here, you’d have to follow my orders.” He added irritably.

“Islam says…..”
“I don’t give a damn to what religion says!” He cut in, his dark eyebrows drawn into a frown.

“With what status and right are you ordering me?” She managed to ask with difficulty.

She saw the muscles in his face tightened.
“I’m your husband.” Before he could stop his tongue, words slipped out
A victorious smile brightened her face.

He had said what she always wanted to hear from his mouth.

He had admitted. He had confessed. However he had not accepted.

At the skeptical lift of her brow, his temper finally rose past boiling point. His anger exploded like a volcano. No doubt, Aariz was a big firestorm from one end of his body to the other. From the super hot brain of his, to his hard, burning heart, right down to his tiptoes, the man was pure fire.

His attitude sent a wave of fear through Zeest but she squashed it flat. Fear was contagious, like a disease. She was no longer afraid of him in that way now. She was going to fight for her right with all her might, in any way she could.

He was her husband, not her God, after all.

Zeest swallowed to ease a sudden lump in her throat, then quickly tried to change the subject.
“I said take it off, NOW!” Aariz urged again, one last time.

The next moment, she found her wrist caught in a strong grip, and for the first time, she thought he was really going to hit her, hurt her physically. He sure was.

But he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed the corner of her scarf and was about to rip it away from her hair when his eyes met hers, closely, very closely.
She blinked, fighting sudden tears. “Please…..don’t do this to me.”
“Please, I beg you. I’m willing to do anything you want.” She couldn’t stop herself from crying this time.

“Just don’t seperate my Hijaab from me. It’s my identity, my ego. Don’t make me disrespectful…..please.” Her tears started flowing and she couldn’t continue.

There was something in her eyes, which froze him at the place. He couldn’t look back into her eyes.

Almost automatically, his fingers left her scarf and he stepped backward.

“You’re not going with me like this.” His words felt like a slap.

“In that case.” She made her mind courageously. “I’m not going.”
“My pleasure.” He breathed in an unexpected gentle tone.

Her expression brighterlned. “Thank you.
I can’t tell you how grateful I am!”
“Don’t thank me too soon.” He cautioned. “You haven’t seen my hospitalities yet.”
Shaking his head angrily, he left the room.
As he stormed out of his bedroom and slammed the door, Zeest knew it was useless to talk to him before he had a chance to calm down.

She half expected to dream of her father that night, but it was another man who came to her in the dark.

Aariz, his black eyes more blacker with anger, glared at her, while images fast and furious, flew at her.

“Why don’t you just pack up your things and go back where you came from, wherever the hell that is. Believe me, nobody here will lift a finger to stop you.”
The cold words lashed at her, cutting to the bone, echoing over and over again in her head.

m0an!ng, she struggled against the viselike hold of the night, the pillow she managed to drag over her head doing nothing but blocking the sound of Aariz’s voice.

Stop! She cried silently. “Stop bothering me!”