Callous

Chapter 22/Agitated

The drive to the hotel where my family is staying is awfully long for me. Every passing second felt like a minute, and a minute felt like an hour. Aarib plugged his phone into the aux and played the Quran which did help a lot to calm my anxious nerves.

There was two ways this could go. And both scared the crap out of me. Either my family would forcefully take me back with them, or they would never want to see me again. Would they have told mom about this? Oh God. I hope they did not.

"Haya, you need to calm down," Aarib pulls me out of my reverie, and I notice we have stopped moving.

"I know, but I am too nervous. I know their reaction won't be good to hear the news about our marriage," I confessed. My heart was wild in my chest.

"Well, I know they won't happily accept it." He gripped my chin and made me look into his eyes. They were wild. "But they have to accept it. They don't have another choice."

"Why'd we stop moving?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Because we're here."

So that's why this place looked so familiar.

"Haya, we'll only do this if you're ready," Aarib said firmly.

I sucked in a sharp breath. The chilled air from the air conditioner was doing nothing to stop the sweat from trickling down my forehead. I couldn't chicken away now. Not now. I had already given my brothers enough stress. I couldn't do it for longer.

"I am ready. Let's go."

***

Once back in the hotel room, I heaved a sigh of relief and released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Aarib was just behind me, watching me with interest. I wanted to laugh, cry, and celebrate this day. I still have no idea how my brother's agreed to it. Yes, they weren't the happiest, but they agreed.

I wanted to scream in delight.

"See? It didn't go that bad," Aarib mumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at me, smiling broadly. He hadn't covered his bruises. It never occurred to me to ask him to, but what's shocking is that none of my brothers asked him anything about it.

I yanked off my scarf and loosened my hair from the bun, fluffing them out. "They were still disappointed in me. Aarib, they thought I called you here, to Italy, so we could run away and marry," I shook my head, upset with myself. I wish I could tell them the real reason why I had to marry Aarib.

He stood to his full height. I had to stretch my neck to peer at him. "They had to think something. It's not like they just patiently waited for you to come by without picturing scenarios. That's a normal thing to do; assume."

He was right. "I just wished things were different."

"Okay. . .I have somewhere I need to be right now," he told me, but something about it seemed off. His eyes weren't as cheerful now. "Do you think you'll be okay here?"

"Can't I come with you?" I was definitely pressing my luck now. But most of, I was curious.

He shook his head. "You can't. I will have Alessandro guard you. It'll just take me an hour and then we'll go out for dinner. How does that sound?"

"I don't need bodyguards. Allah SWT is with me, and enough for me." I folded my arms. "And where are you going?"

"I have to meet a friend," he replied. His eyes were hard. "It won't be long. You can take that time to relax and unwind. I'll have Alessandro get you some clothes and food."

"Who is Alessandro?" I demanded.

"He works with me."

Somewhat still pissed off that he wasn't giving me more details on which friend he was going to visit, and why he wouldn't take me with him, I headed for the bathroom to freshen up and get rid of the heavy concealer I put on my face. Whatever. He doesn't want to tell me? Fine. He can have his way. But then he shouldn't expect me to be all smiles either.

My arm was grabbed before I could take any more steps. I pulled on a lame expression and faced Aarib, waiting oh so patiently for whatever crap he has to say.

"Are you mad at me?" he quirked a brow. "What did I even do?"

"What? No," I fake laughed. "Why would I be mad."

"Look—"

Before Aarib could utter anything else, there was a knock on our bedroom door. I looked at Aarib expectantly, but his expression said he had no idea who it was.

"Were we expecting guests?" I whispered, suddenly picturing Aarib's father standing outside with a gun in his hands.

Aarib's jaw ticked. He stared at the door behind me with a look I couldn't decipher. I couldn't fathom the thought of letting Aarib go to the door alone, so when he walked to the door with careful, measured steps, I followed pursuit.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, spinning around. The knock sounded again, this time louder and scarier (for me). "Get back. And you might want to cover your head."

My eyes widened in horror. My scarf! I asked Aarib to wait and quickly wrapped the black cotton scarf around myself.

"Get back," he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Haya, don't make me say it again."

I moved back, shook. Aarib looked so scary in that moment. His eyes were fierce and wild. He didn't want me getting hurt. I wanted the same for him, but someone had to open the door.

Ugh! Fine! He can be the hero.

I moved a few steps back.

Aarib's hand hovered over the door handle for a very long painful minute. I knew he wasn't scared for himself, rather the thought of me getting hurt always got to him and hit right at his sore spot. I know—I'm pretty sure Aarib had feelings for me for a very long time, so this shouldn't come as a surprise.

The lock clicked softly and the door opened.