Married Without Love novel Chapter 11

||Mishal's POV||

Zayaan was driving back home. I noticed him stiffed a little and a frown on his face. His fists were also clenching on the steering wheel tightly and turning into white colour. He looked uncomfortable.

I put my hand on my stomach when I felt the whole zoo dancing and running in my stomach. I knew I just had dinner at his parents house but I was still hungry.

"Is everything alright?" He asked me and slowed down his car.

"Yes. Everything is fine," I said and looked at him.

He glanced at me for a few seconds then looked back on the road.

"Don't lie to me," He said, gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

I pressed my lips together and debated to tell him or not. I didn't know if I told him, he would get angry at me or not because of his mood swings.

"Mishal," He said, a little sternly and it was the first time he called me by my name.

"I am," I paused, still unsure then finally gave in, "hungry."

I heard him sigh and he drove his car fast. When we reached home, he went to the kitchen and started cooking something. I followed him quietly and felt guilty. He was not looking well and mumbled incoherent words under his breath after every two minutes later.

"You don't have to cook anything. I'll cook for myself," I told him.

"Quit telling me that. Go, change and wait for the food," He told me.

I pressed my lips together and did what he told me. I came back to the kitchen after changing my clothes and noticed him hissed quietly but loud enough for me to hear.

"Are you fine?" I asked him in concern.

"Yeah!" He said and put the plate on the small table in the kitchen.

I sat on the stool and started eating it. The food was so delicious that made me wish to also lick the hands of the cook along with the plate.

"Why don't you tell me whenever you need anything?" He asked me and crossed his arms over his chest.

I swallowed the last bite and thought about the times whenever I asked my parents about my needs and how they ignored me or treated me.

- - -

Past

I put the plate on its place and went to the living hall where the people who I called parents were sitting together. I went to them nervously and stood in front of them.

"Ma! Pa!" I called them, sacredly.

"What?" My father asked me, harshly.

I sucked my breath and looked down. I didn't dare to look in his eyes which had nothing in it but pure hate.

"I need to buy few books and clothes for college," I told them.

"There is no need for you to go to college. You are a girl and suppose to be at home. Education will do nothing for you. So, go and learn how to cook and clean the house properly," He told me, harshly and coldly.

The tears formed in my eyes but I held them. He was always rude towards me. He always treated me like a slave or worse than a slave. His thoughts were always low about females. Never, and I meant it, never I had ever heard him calling me his daughter.

I looked up at my mother helplessly who looked away from me quickly. She was also helpless in front of father. They had many clashes just because of me. Why? Because ma gave birth to a daughter.

He was the reason why ma always feared to come to me or reach to me. He made it pretty clear if she ever tried to come near me then he would abandon me and disowned me and also divorced her.