REMARKABLE

55

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It had taken them two years to consummate their marriage after a three-year separation, Armineh deserved better than his regret of taking things too far.

Yahya Firas swallowed, hard and shifted to sit, looking over at Armineh's sleeping form. He hadn't meant to do it but it had happened, it had to happen at some point and yet, Yahya Firas couldn't help but think, otherwise.

His stomach churned, he felt sick. Yahya Firas rubbed his face with his hands before slowly, rising from the bed. He fisted his hands by his side, they trembled. Yahya Firas trembled wholly as cold air nipped at his bare flesh.

His painful past flashed before his closed eyes as Yahya Firas clamped them shut, standing under the hot shower, his flesh burnt red as the water washed away his deeds of the night but how could he erase the unpleasant memories of his past? He had yet to learn to live with them.

Yahya Firas had scrubbed his skin raw, he didn't want to compare her innocent actions with theirs but he had ended doing just that.

Her gentle hands... soft lips... encouraging words... their hands roamed his small body... touched him where he had never been touched, before... exploited for pleasure... he ached all over... he had cried...

He felt disgusted with himself and his actions, his brain couldn't expound his deliberate actions. She was his wife, he loved his woman and he had consented to their union, unlike his offenders who had forced themselves on him.

Yahya Firas rushed to hunch over the toilet and puked his guts out, whatever little was left in his empty stomach and coughed, a little, he muffled it with his palms, his erratic heartbeat ringing his ears. Yahya Firas brushed his teeth, getting rid of the tangy taste in the back of his mouth.

Armineh stirred awake in the bed with a sated smile on her lips, she stretched an arm beside her but it came up empty, he wasn't in the bed. Armineh's heart plummeted in her stomach, she hoped it wasn't what she thought it was.

Yahya Firas stalked to her side with only a towel wrapped around his waist, she was asleep and Yahya's ear turned bright when he ascertained she had already seen all that was to be seen just as he had, noticing her perfect silhouette hidden beneath the sheets. His hair dripped wet rivulets down his strong back as goose bumps pebbled on his cold flesh. He sat by her feet, his hands clasped in his lap, tightly.

"Look at me," Armineh felt his fear, it rolled off him, distinctly. She sat up, searching for her discarded shirt, she pulled it over her head, it was sorry excuse to stop herself from bolting out of the room. He had stayed so she would, too whatever may come next.

"I am sorry." He didn't look at her.

Armineh sucked in a sharp breath, she expected it but why hadn't she foreseen it? Why didn't she stop him? It was too late, now.

"You are ashamed, Yahya Firas," It was not a question and Armineh felt like Yahya Firas had twisted a knife in her chest, burying it deeper and deeper with his own hands. She teared up and blinked, furiously but her vision still blurred, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Armineh covered her mouth, muffling a gut-wrenching sob.

"Why are you ashamed? Please, do not be ashamed, Yahya Firas..."Armineh stretched her arms, reaching out to him but he flinched away.