So much for 'I'll update once a week' I have no self control!
More than 5k words and that too in the second chapter. Huh what? You know the drill.
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That's it.
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Aaina x Zaydaan
"Salam."
If Zaydaan Ziagil looked stressed even with a blank face, Aaina knew that there was a big reason behind it.
She knew it was not something work related since Zaydaan converted that stress into anger. This tinge of stress mixed with a blank face, it showed her that he was probably going to tell her a bad, bad news.
Her heart beat fast at what had happened, but she stopped herself from asking anything as he nodded at her, greeting her through his eyes.
"Saam, baba." He heard his daughter greet.
The Prime Minister bent down, returning his daughter's adorable Salam as he picked her up in his arms and giving her a smile.
"Walaikum Salam, my darling. How are you? Good yeah?" Zayla nodded, telling him that she was okay, her hand reached out to pull his thick beard and he visibly winced, looking at Aaina.
"I didn't know she was with you." He muttered.
"I left a message with your office boy." Aaina replied, Zaydaan had no time to listen to anyone.
He was at the construction site when he came to know of the utter, miserable truth. The news didn't affect him much but he knew that it would affect his wife, more than he wanted it to affect her anyway.
Zaydaan glanced at Aaina, then at one of his assistants.
"Zayla..uncle arif will get you some juice..okay?" His daughter was used to playing with uncle arif and uncle Ferhet, they were the usual men that she was surrounded with everytime she visited her father's office.
She didn't protest as Arif picked her up.
"Mama and I'll be right back." He traced his finger on her cheek, whispering a sentence into her ear and walking towards the smaller room with his wife.
Aaina followed him quietly, not asking any questions as he closed the door.
She waited and waited, but Zaydaan didn't say much. Finally, she burst out.
"You know you're scaring me, what happened?!"
He took her hand in his, then made her sit on the small chair.
"Sit." He muttered, his right hand reached out to touch her neck, as he rubbed it up and down.
It was a gesture meant to comfort her, she knew.
"Tell me." She demanded, or pleaded. He couldn't differentiate.
He let out a sigh.
She was finally happy. She was finally so fucking happy. She shouldn't even feel sad about it, he was a pathetic man but she knew that it would affect her, she would feel lost.
He was her father. No matter what.
He knew that there was no beating around the Bush, no preparing her for it. So he simply said it out loud.
