Chapter 43:

I was sitting on the island sipping black coffee. It's bitter but so is my heart right now. Latte with cinnamon and extra cream would always be my favourite, but for some unexplained reason, I craved black coffee. I tuck my hair behind my ear, letting it fall on my shoulder as I sipped the hot coffee completely avoiding his creepy look.

One can easily notice his eyes eating me as he took glances at me for the past few minutes. If he's trying to get me to talk, he's obviously crazy. For now I had no intention of forgiving him.

"Aisha?" He says softly, stupidly reminding me of how sweet his husky voice is.

From the side of my eyes, I see him staring at me as if expecting me to turn around or at least acknowledge his presence. He goes ahead and speaks when I don't say a word. "You're mad at me, I don't blame you. I know I'm not getting any forgiveness from you but please talk to me. It's making me go insane. Please, I really am sorry for everything."

I'm glad he knows I'm mad and disappointed in him. I can't forgive him nor talk to him. I know the moment I say a nice word to him, I would lose the wall I'm trying so hard to complete. I would have no choice but to forgive and trust him, that, I wasn't planning on doing anytime soon. After drinking my coffee in haste, I get up and find my way to the parlour, leaving him to his own thoughts.

"It's been five days already, please." He pleads, trailing behind me. It's been five days of my torture and I strangely wasn't satisfied. It felt good but not great. I don't want more than his pleadings and apologies. I want his regret. Every pain that coursed through my veins, every tear that kept me awake for the past months he hurt me. I can't say that there weren't good and sweet times, times of love, affection, laughter, happiness and care. But the scars the pains left overshadowed the happiness that I strangely missed.

I missed him by my side, his woody sweet manly smell that filled my nose, his strong arms that held me against his firm, hard chest in protection and those beautiful lips of his that curled into a smile. I longed to brush his raven black smooth hair against my hand that fell on his face as it slides through my little fingers. Life wasn't fair sometimes, it keeps pushing you towards the one person you don't want to love, towards the person whose blade pierced the deepest. I love him a lot, I still do but he hurt me so much that I hated him. But that is a lie because I know that I can never hate him. Perhaps he knew, that's why he kept doing it over and over.

I know I promised his mum that I would take care of him, that I would be there for him forever. I'm starting to doubt if I can.

I badly wanted to tear down and cry the pains away but if I want to succeed, I would have to stay strong and avoid him at all costs.

I didn't notice how close he's to me till I look to my left, our eyes mere inches away. I didn't pull away, I couldn't. His nose grazes mine as he comes forward. I terribly want to lean in. His eyes doesn't leave mine for a second and I decided to do the same. But I know that the longer I stay that way, the more control over this fragile heart of mine I would lose and seal the distance. So I did the best I could to turn away and push him.

Unfortunately, my best wasn't enough.

In seconds, he kisses me. His soft lips greedily taking mine in him. His hand goes to my waist to bring me closer and I subconsciously run my fingers through his smooth hair as I deepen it.

What am I doing? I wanted more, it was way too sweet to pull away.

As quickly as our kiss deepens, I push him away hardly and watch him stumble on the marble floor.

"Don't you ever do that!" I warn, glaring at him. Yet afraid that he would see past my mean stares because God knows I'm freaking out in the inside.

As if noticing something, his eyes open widely in shock. "You still care about me don't you?"

This time, it was my time to drop the glare that turns to a shocked stare. "You still love me, don't you?" He asks again leaving me feeling numb. Unable to find my voice, I walk away briskly, heading to my room. His footsteps echoes as he rushes after me, calling out for me to stop.

"Let me go!" I scream at him when he catches up with me and grabs my arm, yanking me backwards. Oh no! This definitely isn't going to be cliché. If he's planning on some Bollywood twirl that ends with me falling into his arms as his eyes feed on me and our bodies not far away. If this is what he intends to do, he must be dreaming. Not all dreams come true.

I do the one thing any sane person would do because of course I'm not insane. I bite him hard and immediately he lets go of me, I walk into my room and fastly shut the door and lock it.

I fall to the floor, blocking out his bangings. "Please Aisha, let's talk about this. I'm sorry I hurt you."

When he stops, I peer below the door. Seeing his shadow, I slump back and rest my head against the door. "Please go." I whispered, more to myself.

I can't back down, he has to feel the pain I felt.

It has been an hour since she left to meet Aliyah after she dropped by earlier. Throughout the few hours she came downstairs to make sandwiches, I didn't utter a word to her and of course she was glad I didn't. I regret all the awful things I did to her, I'm really an awful person. Heck! That's an understatement. I wish I hadn't hurt her, but the one thing I never regretted was kissing her. I felt her softly and at once I knew I wanted more. The way she kissed me back made me realise that she still loves me. Deep down she does but she doesn't want to. It's certain she doesn't want to talk to me or see me at all. But I'm not going to let everything go. This time, I would be right, I would follow mum's words. I will never let her go, not even for a second.

Soft knocks gets my attention. Opening the door, I gasp in shock as I stare at the man I never wanted to ever see, a father I never wished to have. His beard full of white hair looks rough indicating that he hadn't shaved in a while. His eyes puffy and little from working. Although he's bloody rich, he's never the type to stop working. His once long black with strands of white hair due to old age is shorter. His pale skin shows how stressed he's. Everyone knows my father is a workaholic, a trait my mum never liked.

"What do you want?" I sharply question, not sparing him a chance to come in.

"To talk." He replies, his little brown eyes looking into mine in sadness.

"Now you want to talk? That's new." I laugh distastefully.

"I'm your father!" His stern voice annoying me as it reminds me of the moments I dreaded seeing him. "Now you want to be my father? You lost that title the moment you stopped giving a shit about us!" The moment those words left my lips, his eyes fall down in guilt. "I know I'm not the best father in the world and I'm sorry I wasn't always there for you. But I love you both with all of me and you'll always be my kids even if you don't want to. I know I'm late and I don't deserve your forgiveness but I did what I thought was right. Everything I did, it was for all of you. To shape you to be-"

"To be like you?" I cut him short. "You can't make someone to be like you, things don't work that way. Do you have any idea how much you deprived Yousuf and I of? I spent my childhood going to meetings, trying my best to be perfect to you instead of hanging out with friends, going on adventures and parties. In highschool, I was just a rich freak who had no sense of fun all because of your stupid ways of parenting. I missed out on a lot because of you. If it hadn't been for mum who was always there for me, I would have probably lost my mind. All I wanted was to have a father like everyone else, to have a father I could proudly call my dad not some man who would just dump money on us and leave like our emotions didn't matter. Like we were nothing but liabilities you had no choice but to take care of."

It's evident he was taken aback my outburst. He didn't expect it. The truth is that even I didn't expect a sudden lash out like that but I was sick of keeping it in. His eyes meet mine this time as he steps closer.

"I don't blame you for feeling that way about me, you have every right to. I thought that it was important for a Malik to be brought up that way because I was, so was your grandfather and his father. It took me years to realise how wrong we all are for imposing such responsibilities on a little child. I don't deserve your love, I'm sure of that and I'm terribly sorry for that. I'm sorry I was never the perfect father you wanted. I'm sorry I deprived you a lot of things. I'm sorry I was never there when you needed me. I honestly apologize for not being the ideal father to you and Yousuf nor the perfect husband to your mother. If I could go back in time, I would and correct all my mistakes but I'm late. I just beg of you for one thing, don't be like me. Don't treat Aisha the same way I treated your mother. I loved your mother and I still do, forever and always."

This is the first time my dad said the words I've been longing to hear for years. I had waited long and hard for an apology. I take another look at my old man and did what my heart told me to. I pulled him into a bear hug tightly.

"It's alright, I love you dad."

It felt good calling him dad, really good.

"I'm sorry." He says chokingly in tears. "Shh... it's alright dad."

I bring him in and fix him spaghetti.

"You shouldn't let her go." He says after I finish telling him everything.

"You know the problem with Malik's? We think before acting, we think a lot. If there's something I have learnt, it's sometimes you just have to do things as long as it feels good or right, whatever the situation calls for. Just do it, if your heart says you should. Life's too short to think boy, laugh while still have teeth, run to her while you still have legs, tell her you love her while you still have tongue." I nod at his advice.

"Omar?"

"Yeah?"

"Shave while you still have hands."

"I think that applies to you too."

We both laugh when we touch our beards.

"Are you still ignoring him?" She asks.

"No." I lie. Aliyah looks at me before sighing. "I know you're."

I internally groan. "I just don't want to be with him again. I can't trust him, not after all he has done to me.

"Learn to forgive, you love him a lot, so does he. You know life doesn't give us second chances, we have to create them ourselves. I don't want you to regret your actions."

"I know, I want him to regret it, just a little torture."

But deep down I know I'm scared, I'm scared I would get my heart broken all over again.

After some time with Aliyah, I go back home. I step into the living room, my eyes searching for Omar, not like I had any intention of talking to him.

Immediately I enter the kitchen, I'm greeted with his body claiming mine in a hug. I bring my hands to his chest to push him, however, I stop when my hands truly showed they belong to my heart, my heart that betrayed me.

"Please don't go."

He breathes against my hair.