Chapter 10 page 2 - Broken

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*Sexual explicit content is in this chapter.

When the silence annoys him, he glances at me through the rear mirror. "Why are you muting?" 

"What is there to say?" I choke. "Even if the stakes went out, I'd still lose the battle."

"Well, you brought this all on yourself," he says sharply.

"Seriously? You're still putting this shit on me?" I'm flustered.

"It was a simple instruction, 'Don't hang out with the boys'. But did you listen? No, what's the point of holding on to this relationship when you don't take simple instructions?" he brings up an old issue on my frequent meetups with my inevitable campus mate Ayaz, Hanif, Anne and Debbie.

No matter how much I repeated to myself that there were two other girls in our clique, he only saw Ayaz and Hanif. And I find him dumping me just because I spend time with them is totally absurd, like he just uses this excuse to get rid of me.

I hold my tongue with bated breath. Obviously he never gives a damn about my decisions, my needs; he wants no parts of it.

"And who's this mat saleh (Caucasian) kid, Saint? He keeps sending out smiles and shit to your Friendster account?" he continues. "He's one adamant motherfucker."

Saint. I haven't heard that name for a very long time. My Friendster account was under his administration control so anyone he dislikes will be told off and anything I posted will be monitored.

"What did you tell him?" I conceal my anxiety.

"Why are you interested? I know you're into mat salehs but a minor? You can't be that desperate!" he retorts suspiciously. "I told him to fuck off."

Tacit. I bet Saint's hating me already since Naim communicated with him from my account.

"Trust wouldn't be an issue if you really love me," I reply.

"No, relationship without sex is dull and meaningful. You're nothing like Adira."

I snicker. "Just because I prefer to remain chastise, I'm considered dull? I'm not allowed to mention Dan's name but you can rhapsodise about your bitch ex-girlfriend. Is that even fair?"

Out of sudden, Naim veers the car from the fastest lane to the furthest left before pressing the brake pedal to recede the speed. The car screeches madly out of control, swerving from left to right before slows down and stops completely by the kerb. The forceful impact from the abrupt movement had made me toss forward before bouncing back to my bucket seat.

"Get the fuck out," he shouts.

"What?!" I frazzle.

"You heard what I said," he becomes impatient. "Leave before I push you out."

I look out frantically. Outside, there's no sign for the rain to subside but instead, it gets heavier by every minute.

The car now parks by the shoulder of a highway and I see no possible shelter for me to seek sanctuary. He feels sated when I'm at the mercy of his consideration. Whenever he's defeated at any point of our argument, he would resort to threat and violence.

"You've got two options here," he decides to negotiate. "Either get out of this car or engorge me."

"Damn you, Naim!" I cry as he yanks my hand towards his crotch.

"Come on, please me for one last time!" His orders are luscious but assertive.

Initially, I feel repulsive by the fact that I'm forced to rub my palm against his shaft. But my leftover feelings for him are still strong that I finally settle for nothing more than just give him the pleasure he desires.

I never felt so dirty in my life that I wish God still has room for me to cleanse my sins away. I don't want this but I don't want to lose him either.

When it's over, he bends towards the glove compartment in front of me, pulls out a napkin to wipe off the lubrication in my hand and hushes me from crying. His wrath dies down in an instance after the heavy petting. 

"Come on, my damsel. What you're crying about? I'm still here for you," he coaxes.

"You're leaving me!" my cry is turning into a child-like wailing.

"Nah," he pulls me, wraps his arms around me. We stretch our upper bodies away from each other's seat for an embrace as he gently strokes my head like an affectionate father. "I don't want to lose you either. It's just those things... are not right between us."

"Will there be hope?" I press on.

"We'll see about that, my damsel," Naim says softly above me while I cling my arms around him.

I'm not so sure if I can easily accept that because I don't want to let him go. We resume our platonic text later that evening until the following morning as though what happened before was just a figment of my imagination. Soothing my aching heart, I'm giving myself the benefit of a doubt that as long as there's still love in my heart for him, I will win him over one day.

         ⛈️🌧️☔🌦️

The next day, I receive a call from an unknown female caller, asking for me before she demands for Naim.

"I don't know. He's not with me," I admit.

"Don't lie, you slut," she sounds immature and persistent. "You were with him yesterday. I'm already five weeks pregnant with his baby and I was planning to announce this yesterday until you intervene!"

"Who the hell is this?" the veins on my temples throb.

"Adira," she gives a brisk, crisp answer.

Her words shook me all over in a fit of rage. I'm not so sure whether to cry or to scream through the phone. The pain of bearing the news translates the same in the brain as enduring physical pain. But from that point of conversation, I can no longer feel mourn by the truth, I feel enraged.

Now my heart is just consumed with hatred over Naim's infidelity.

Now my heart is just consumed with hatred over Naim's infidelity

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