CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
"See how disheveled you look? Like a gambler who walked into a losing bet and lost his heart. You've made me mournful right along with you. As they say: 'The mouth is burned, though the soup was never eaten!'"
"You are my Yas, aren't you?" Ryan asked suddenly.
What did that have to do with anything? I replaced my worry with a cryptic smile and nodded. Even the darkness of the night couldn't hide Ryan's beautiful smile; I could trace its shape even within the shadows.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps and Anna's voice inverted the world. Terrified, I whispered, "Ryan! She's coming! It's all your fault—where do I hide? What do I do!?"
"Hahaha! Why hide, my little mischief? We haven't committed a crime."
Before the door could swing open, I leaped behind it, clamping my hands over my mouth to stifle any sound.
"Ryan, darling?" Anna called out. "Why are the lights off? Everyone is waiting; the food is getting cold."
Darling, my foot! I thought. Why don't you just take his hand and lead him to the marriage altar so you can finally rest, you beautiful demon!
"You go on," Ryan replied coolly. "I'm coming."
Ryan, you'll be the death of me, I cursed silently. I have to clean up your madness every day. You look so ugly when you smirk like that!
Anna left. Ryan switched on the lights. I emerged from behind the door with squinted eyes and a furious face, wagging my finger at him in a mocking imitation: "Go on, I'm coming! It's all because of you! Don't laugh—you look hideous. I swear I'll have a heart attack one day because of you."
"But you look so beautiful when you're angry," he countered.
I stuck my tongue out at him and hurried toward the kitchen.
"Go," he called after me, "but if they ever set foot in my house again, I'll break their legs!"
God, please grant this beautiful painting of yours some brains. If You had traded some of that handsomeness for a little common sense, Your glory wouldn't have diminished one bit!
In the kitchen, my mother got straight to the point. "Yas, I want to speak seriously. Listen well."
"Mother, what about my 'hello'? Fine, I'm listening."
"Don't dodge the question. What is your final answer regarding that family?"
"Ugh, that family again. Mother, I don't want to get married. Please understand."
"Why? What do they lack?"
"I just don't want to. If I'm a burden on your shoulders, do as you wish, but I don't want this."
"Yas, don't talk nonsense. Our only wish is your happiness. If you don't want it, we won't force you."
"Now you're my real mother again! I'd give my life for you!"
She sighed helplessly. "Why won't you accept them? No better family will knock on our door."
What could I say? Could I say I can't exist without Ryan? That I'm addicted to him? That I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't breathe without him?
"I just don't like their son. I'm not ready for marriage. Please, Mother!"
Later, restless, I went to the balcony to watch the sky. It was beautiful, but it made me sad. Everything felt misplaced.
"May I sit?"
Israr's voice broke my thoughts. He held two cups of tea.
"Can we talk, Yas?"
"Of course. Is that cup for me?"
He nodded and sat down. I took a sip. "You look troubled, Israr. And thank you for the tea."
"It's nothing. I'm... I'm struggling. Since my mother died, this is the first time I've felt this kind of fear."
"What fear?"
"It's complicated. Did you see that girl? Safa?"
"Yes. She seemed very dignified and beautiful. Does she love you?"
"Deeply. But... her older sister, Arezoo. She loves my Lala—Ryan. More than just 'loving' him."
My heart sank. Was Anna not enough? "How does that affect you two?"
"It's the condition. She says I can have Safa only if Ryan marries her. Our families are old friends... perhaps you remember them?"
"No... but why not talk to Ryan?"
"That's not the main issue, Yas. I'm worried about Ryan. He isn't well. He has severe migraines. When he's under high stress or anger, he gets nosebleeds. The capillaries in his brain are thinning from the high doses of medication he takes."
I was shocked. "Nosebleeds? Medication? Does he... use drugs?"
"No, just cigarettes, and not even that many. But migraines are different for him. He was treated abroad and got better, but it's back. Constant stress makes it worse."
Israr's words left me speechless. Why didn't I know?
"He never talks about his problems," Israr continued. "He's too busy solving ours. And Anna... you know why she's here. She's an only child, selfish, and used to getting whatever she wants. She wants the Khan Sahib now. It's going to be quite a battle."
"A battle indeed," I whispered. "Two dangerous rivals facing off."
I headed back toward the palace, lost in thought. I was so distracted that I didn't see the person in front of me. We collided, and I fell hard. The tea cup in my hand shattered into jagged, lethal shards.
"Ugh, you stupid girl! Where is your head?" Anna spat. "I don't know why the Big Khan keeps a pathetic family like yours in this palace."
"I'm sorry... I'll clean it up." I knelt to gather the pieces.
"I don't expect excellence from you," she sneered. "Can one expect more from parents like yours?"
I stopped moving. What did she say? That wasn't just a sentence. It was a poisoned dagger driven into my soul.
I gripped a shard of glass in my palm, squeezing it so hard I felt the edge slice through my skin. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.
"You are low-born and trash," Anna continued. "Using your shameless charms to trap these boys. Did you learn that trade from your mother...?"
I didn't let her finish. Like a wild animal, I lunged. I twisted her hair around my hand and slammed my bleeding palm over her mouth to silence her. She struggled, but I was fueled by pure hatred.
"You're wrong, you parasite!" I hissed into her ear. "You're the low-born one, clinging to these three men like a tick. You're the shameless one who traveled across the world for a boy. But you know what? You mean nothing to Ryan. Not as much as a mosquito. Watch him leave you. When he marries someone else, you'll break just like this glass. You'll be wounded like me... but your wounds won't be stitchable."
I shoved her back with all my might. "If you ever mention my parents again, I will cut out your tongue. I swear it!"
I gathered the glass and ran to the kitchen. My hand was gushing blood. I held it under cold water, but the sight made me nauseous—I could see the muscle. I had cut myself deep.
I wrapped my headscarf around it, but the blood soaked through instantly. What do I do? Is Ryan awake?
Suddenly, the door slammed open. Ryan's voice boomed through the house, calling my name in a tone I had never heard.
"YAS!!!!"
I pressed my hand against my heart and closed my eyes. Did he come to punish me? Did Anna tell him her version of the story?...
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE