Callous

Chapter 27/Change of plans

Aarib

Do you ever just stop breathing for a second? Like, you're so taken aback that you just stand there frozen, whilst every possible scenario that could go wrong crosses your mind, and you just wish you had done things differently.

The only reason I brought Haya to the event with me was because Haatim wouldn't be there—I confirmed from him twice, by the way—so I thought what could go wrong. In my head, everything was just simple. My father? Ignore him. My brother? Ignore him. Any person that I didn't like, just don't pay too much attention to them.

Just ignore the people that tend to piss me off—it should've been this simple.

But this—Haatim here all of a sudden, and the way he was striding towards us, and the way his forehead crinkled when his eyes landed on Haya who stood beside me, I didn't think it could get any worse.

He stood short before us, hands casually slid in the pockets of his pant, his stance easy, but his face was wild. There was fury in his eyes, a danger I was suspecting.

I inched closer to Haya.

He noticed.

"Explain," he gritted out, narrowing his eyes on me.

"Don't pretend like you don't know." I actually didn't know if he knew, but at that moment my thoughts were rushing—there was a storm brewing inside me.

"Oh, I don't. But I am most definitely going to find out now." He glanced at Haya for a heartbeat before turning his enraged eyes back on me.

"She's my wife."

There was pure and utter shock displayed on my best friend's features as he tried to soak in the reality of my words. Crap. I felt my stomach coiling—I didn't want to lose my brother. Yet there was a part of me reminding how much he liked Haya. The other, slightly pissed off part was seething, wanting to just tell him to back off.

"What's going on?" Haya piped in, an edge to her voice like she suspected something was off about this whole situation.

I closed my eyes, breathing hard.

"I'm Haatim, must've heard of me."

Haya shook her head.

"No?" Haatim faked hurt, bringing a hand to his chest as his eyes cut to mine. "You didn't tell her who I am?"

"Haatim," I warned. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He laughed without any humor. "I haven't even started yet, bro."

"Aarib, who is he?" Haya turned to me, and as I tore my angry eyes away from Haatim, they softened upon seeing her. Her brows were pinched together in confusion. But I didn't want to tell her any of this. Not now, at least.

"He's my friend. Haatim," I explained. "And he needs to get out of our way before I beat the crap out of him."

Haya's frown deepened. "You shouldn't say that. He's your friend," she whispered the last sentence.

"You want me to leave? Fine, I'll leave. But this—what you did—did you think I wouldn't find out?" Haatim's voice grew a notch louder. "You're sick. You're so sick, Aarib, and I hope you realize that."

He let his eyes hover on Haya for a few seconds before he turned around and left, leaving me rooted to the spot.

"What just happened?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "He just likes to create a scene for no reason."

But Haya wasn't ready to buy this crap. She came to stand in front of me and folded her arms across her chest, her pupils enlarging.