Marrying Mr. Arrogant

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘Indeed, you are to die, and indeed, they are to die.’ –Surah Az- Zumar, Verse 30.

***

We leave the house at 8 p.m. to go to Uncle Adil's house. While sitting in the car, Rohaan seems lost. I notice the dark circles lining his eyes.

He looks like a lost puppy.

If he’s not going to say something about last night and pretend like it didn’t happen, then I’m going to.

I’m not one of those people that shove important matters down the carpet so that everything seems perfect.

“Rohaan?”

He holds his hand up. “I know what you’re gonna say.” He shoots me a quick look, before turning his head towards the road. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

I frown, and stare at him. “But I want to know what’s bothering you.”

At that, he huffs. “All you need to know is that I have issues.”

Yeah, well. No s**t, Sherlock.

“And you can’t solve them.” He continues. A beat of silence. Then, “Look, Ayra. I don’t know what you’re thinking. Last night . . .” He sucks in a deep breath. “Last night I just . . . had a bad dream.”

“A bad dream?” I echo. “Really, Rohaan? And was someone killing you?”

He’s silent for a second. Then, “You could say that. But there are things worse than death.”

I’m stunned into silence. Rohaan is one of those really good-looking guys that you just can’t help but stare at. And the cliché about these good-looking guys is that when they open their mouth, you don’t feel like being with them ever again. Unless, you know, you’re also dumb.

But, this. This is not what I expected. I steal a glance at him. He is exquisite. Really, there is no other word.

His face is all sharp planes and hard angles. And there is this rawness to him. A deep pain in those beautiful eyes, present at all times.

Sensing me staring, he turns his head to the side and arches an eyebrow. I give him an innocent look, pressing my lips together.

Before I can even comprehend, his eyes sharpen like blades. “I don’t need your damn pity.”

Uh . . . okay.

And they say women have mood swings.

We don’t say anything throughout the rest of the journey. When we finally reach their house, Rohaan seems to be gathering courage and with a deep breath gets out of the car. I follow.

His aunt and uncle greet us. I look at Rohaan and he seems desolated. So, I grab his shaky hand in mine. Startled, he looks at me, a bit dazed.

I nod reassuringly.

After we both greet them back, they tell us to come into the house. I'm not sure who Rohaan has a problem with. Because to me, both of them seem creepy.

***

"So, Rohaan, you finally came to meet us." His aunt says menacingly while we're having dinner.

Rohaan remains silent, as if he can’t hear anything. But I notice the strain in his shoulders.

Something is very wrong with him. He's always snapping and growling but now . . . he isn’t even speaking.

"Can you come with me, Rohaan? I need to speak to you." His aunt says, then with a glance my way, "In private."

I swear I see his whole body tremble but his face hardens. Before he has the chance to say anything, I entwine my fingers through his.

His aunt's eyes follow the movement.

"You can talk with me here." I state.

I have never felt electricity running through my veins and neither have I felt the strange need to protect someone.

His aunt glares daggers at me. But I don't care. He's my husband.

"I need to speak to you, Rohaan. Come with me, now." She continues.

Rohaan's hand tightens. Painfully so. But if that gives him comfort, I don't mind.

"He's not going anywhere with you." I give my best disgusted look to his aunt. "I suggest we leave, Rohaan. We're getting late."

I get up without waiting for a response. Rohaan doesn't say anything but he stands up, nonetheless.

"It was really nice to meet you. But I never want to again. Neither do I want you to bother my husband." I put a lot of stress on 'my'.

With that we walk out of the door, hand-in-hand.

When we're in the car, Rohaan looks at me with an expression I don't quite understand.

For a moment, I think he's going to thank me or something.

"Rohaan–"

He cuts me off with a flick of his wrist.

"I don't need your damn help. Don't ever bother again."

I grit my teeth as angry tears well up in my eyes.

I don't know what I was expecting from him.

At the end of the day, he is The Freaking Rohaan.