Turn Right: Chapter Thirty-One
âNo.â Isolde snorted, returning to tidying Alannaâs room.
âOnly my friends call me Izzy.â Isolde said pointedly.
âI am your friend!â Liam protested. âLook â I just â I really think Iâve messed up this time. Itâll just be the one time, I promise!â
âRight.â Isolde nodded, turning to face him with her hands on her hips. She looked pretty today, but tired, like she hadnât slept â which she hadnât. Her hair was sloppily pulled back into a ponytail that was coming apart, she looked flushed and her bottom lip was swollen from having chewed on it all night. Sheâd been avoiding Niall since the, um, incident. But that hadnât stopped Niall from watching her sleep all night under the pretence of watching Alanna â or rather, watching Isolde pretend to sleep. âIâll just go the one time, get to know the girl, feel bad for visiting her once and then go back and ta-da! Iâm right in the middle of your sordid little plan.â
âThere isnât anything sordid about it, Isolde, really.â Liam whined, beginning to sound a lot like a petulant child. Isolde mentally reminded herself to jump out of a window, should Alanna or any other unexpected additions to the family be like that. âThereâs just â sheâs got this pull-â
âStop!â Isolde yelled, holding up a hand. Instantly, Liam shut up. Isolde felt proud â all of those parenting books sheâd been reading clearly worked. âListen, I donât take bullshit, okay? And the fact of the matter is â the girl is right! Youâve helped her get into rehab for sex, Liam. Whether itâs rough sex, or random sex, or friendly sex, or even loving sex â thatâs what you want from her. And I am not getting involved in that.â
âItâs more than that!â Liam groaned.
âOh, really?â Isolde demanded, folding her hands over her chest. She heard a small cry and Niallâs instant sounds of soothing, making her fidget. Did he have to be so... AroundAlanna all of the time? So ready to help her, be there for her, so loving! It was driving her mad. She was trying to hate him! âWell, then tell me. Tell me all about how itâs more than that.â
For a moment, Liam faltered. For all of his talk about his genuine and honestly rather strange attraction to Kara, he hadnât actually expected anyone to... Question him on it.
âWell,â Liam began, before hesitating. Isolde shook her head, expectant. âI guess... I think...â
âNo, you donât.â Isolde muttered, rolling her eyes and going to turn away â before something Liam said stopped her.
âShe doesnât love me for who I am â she doesnât like me because of who Iâm not.â Liam said quietly, making Isolde stop. Liam shrugged to himself, feeling strangely self-conscious. âI donât know. Iâve never had a girl that Iâve cared for that didnât know I was a bit... Special. And she knows and couldnât care less. Thatâs important to me.â
Isolde watched Liam carefully for a moment. She quite liked Liam, in her own way â he adored Alanna and respected Isoldeâs boundaries when it came to Niall and her private space. Sheâd just wanted to keep a distance because ultimately, she was never going to be in his life. She wasnât going to be a presence in Niallâs forever.
Or, that was what she kept telling herself.
âHow do you know sheâs not playing you?â Isolde finally asked.
âThatâs the best part.â Liam told her sincerely. âI know, because despite the fact sheâs had some... Uncomfortable jobs â the thought of doing anything with me mildly repulses her.â
Well, Isolde thought to herself. She couldnât really argue with that.
âFine, Iâll go.â Isolde said begrudgingly, Liam instantly laughing happily. âOn one condition! No talking about Niall?â
âJust Niall, or the fact he kissed you?â Liam asked cheekily.
âI hate you.â Isolde said loudly, her cheeks pooling pink. âI hate you! Screw your stupid favour!â
âNo, wait, Izzy, Iâm sorry!â
 âSo, how was it last night?â Lucky asked, snapping Soph out of her reverie. Sheâd been watching her father, Kabir Zafar and Amanâs uncle all laughing with one another on the other side of the garden, as if they were lifelong friends. It hadnât been disturbing as much as it had been disarming. âDid Zayn apologize?â
âSorry, what?â Soph shook her head slightly, forcing herself back to reality. Her and Lucky had decided to eat breakfast together this morning, on the other side of the garden. Bee had sleepily joined them ten minutes ago and seemed incapable of speech, though tilted her head slightly at Luckyâs question. âUh, no, not quite. It was weird.â Quickly distracting, she asked innocently â âWhy? Have you apologized to Jai?â
âThatâs different.â Lucky said stiffly, pouring herself some freshly-pressed watermelon juice. âHe shouldnât have left you-â
âHe didnât.â Soph interrupted firmly. âAnd he wasnât there to be a lowlife, Lucky. Trust me, I was there.â
âYou seem... Better than before.â Bee murmured quietly, rubbing her eyes in a childlike fashion as she sat up a little straighter. Lucky glanced at her, almost warningly â they didnât want to push the boat! â but Sophâs expression seemed to be only of the resigned nature. Sheâd been... Expecting this. âYou donât have to fake it with us, you know.â
âI know.â Soph nodded. âAnd... I am better. I mean, thinking about what Iâve done-â Soph shuddered slightly, remembering her nightmares from the night before. â- itâs not pleasant, but... I mean, Iâve been sticking my head in the sand for this long, right?â Soph shook her head slightly. âI canât live like that forever. And if that guy had...â She swallowed. âWell, things would be even worse, right? And Iâd been sitting here, wondering what would have happened if Iâd defended myself.â
âYou werenât wrong.â Lucky said gently, covering Sophâs hand with her own. âHonestly, if that happened to me... I donât know if Iâd be strong enough to defend myself.â
Soph smiled a small smile, one letting Lucky know of her thanks. She knew Lucky didnât mean physical strength.
âI just...â Soph sighed gustily. âThereâs this person I want to be and thereâs this person I used to be, and getting married changed both. And if I want to change that, I have to start acting like it.â
âWell, I think youâre super for doing it.â Bee nodded, gulping down half a cup of tea. Instantly, her eyes glittered slightly with newfound energy. âSo... Tell us! What didhappen between you and Zayn last night? Everything was awfully quiet.â
âNot everyone is as loud as you and Tiff.â Lucky teased, making Bee blush a light pink. âDid you talk?â
âI donât really know.â Soph replied honestly. âAll heâd said was that heâd... Miscalculated a few things and needed some time to think. Then he offered to sleep on the floor and let me have the bed. It was... Weird.â
âDid you let him sleep on the floor?â Bee pushed, eyes wide.
âNo.â Soph shook her head at the thought. âI figured, he was trying, so... I should try, too.â
âHe hasnât tried anywhere near enough.â Lucky muttered bitterly, this time being on the receiving end of a disdainful glance. She shrugged at Beeâs indignant expression. âWhat? Itâs true. Soph, you donât owe him anything! Heâs barely tried at all and youâre already accepting his half-assed apologies? He deserves to suffer more than that.â
âBut heâs my husband, isnât he?â Soph sighed, slumping back in her chair and watching her father almost spill tea down himself, he was laughing so hard. âWhat else can I do?â
Lucky opened her mouth for a moment and the answer to Sophâs question hung uncomfortably in the air. But then she closed her mouth and Soph could pretend that the three girls hadnât all been thinking the same thing â that she should leave Zayn.
âItâs good, though.â Bee finally said, sipping more demurely at her tea this time. âI mean, people give up on love and marriages so quickly, right? Fighting through the hard stuff is what makes it special.â
âYeah.â Soph said, forcing a smile. She stared intently at the table, at the plate full of food Lucky had set in front of her. âYeah, thatâs what it is. Special.â
 Zayn stormed into his and Sophâs bedroom, shame tingeing his cheeks red. Heâd stepped out of his and Sophâs bedroom to pick up the laundry one of the maids had left outside their door, only to briefly see Tiff â who, upon seeing Zayn in a towel and nothing else â had simply raised his eyebrows at the forming bruises all over his chest, before walking away as if nothing were wrong.
He was scared. Yes, Zayn Malik was scared. He felt trapped â heâd had to swallow his anger and betrayal when Soph had come into their room yesterday, heâd had to act like he was her friend.
Zayn had thought heâd been scared of losing Soph before â hence all of these mind-games, in a desperate bid to keep her interested in their relationship, in him. But when Iftikhar Khan had left last night, Zayn had finally learnt what real fear felt like.
And what he thought heâd been feeling at the prospect of losing Soph?
Zayn wasnât sure what he felt anymore â whether it was overwhelming rage and disappointment that Dianna had been right and Soph was everything Zayn didnât want her to be, or ease at the fact clearly, Soph was just as bad as he was. After all, she was the one who had killed someone in cold blood and then gotten her father to have him beaten.
Suddenly, Zayn was overtaken with such a deep, intense rage, that all he could imagine was Sophâs soft skin underneath him as he let out all of his anger â one way or the other.
Did she even know how much she demeaned him? Did she know how many hours heâd spent, after theyâd married, watching her sleep and imagining the different ways sheâd leave him?
Although Zayn was yet to understand it, this was because he, deep down, had always known he wasnât good enough. It wasnât just a sneaking suspicion; it wasnât just personal insecurities, deep-rooted from his childhood; it was fact.
Heâd known it from the first time theyâd spoken â the way sheâd shot down his accusations of her being Harryâs whore with disgust at even having to talk to her. Heâd known it from the way the boys idolized her, despite having women constantly throwing themselves at their feet; heâd known it from the way Soph had held her ground at Mo and Shaziaâs anniversary party; heâd even known when sheâd stared at him in incredulity, when heâd fallen to his knees in a shop, demanding her to tell him she loved him, even if it was fake â just so he could pretend it was real and he worthy.
The same side of Zayn that hadnât cared, that had trusted Soph â the one that had slowly been pushed further and further back into the recesses of Zaynâs brain after their wedding â pushed all of these thoughts as hard as it could to the forefront of Zaynâs mind, only to be aggressively pushed back. It would hit him like waves â slow tidbits of realization that made his skin crawl, upon realizing the effect his own misguided actions had caused.
Which was why Zayn ignored it. It was too much pain for him to handle. Too many... Mistakes. No, it wasnât possible for it to just be him â it took two people in a marriage. And that was the vow that now dominated Zaynâs life, above any other heâd made.
Zayn wished he could hurt Soph the way she had him. And that had been something heâd wished for, before the maliciousness felt upon being âroughed upâ â something he had done in his youth to others -, it was just so Soph would... Understand.
She hadnât felt what he had. She never had, not once. The pain heâd felt, waking up in her office that one time, before heâd been stabbed, before their wedding â only to find sheâd walked right past him and gone home. It was raw and rather than time healing him, it just made him more bitter and resentful. Soph had never shown any inclination to regretting her actions, before theyâd gotten together or afterwards â and honestly, Zayn wasnât even sure she felt pain anymore.
It was just as Zayn was bitterly recalling these thoughts, that the sound of something buzzing on the wooden dresser beside him caught his attention.
It was Sophâs phone â with Roseâs face flashing across the screen.
Zayn wasnât sure if Soph felt pain. Honestly, it was a childish sort of wonder â and, with that childish nature in mind, seeing Rose calling Soph was like leaving a child in a sweet shop.
 âKara, you have a visitor.â
âI donât want to see anyone.â Kara sighed, tiredly rubbing her eyes with the sleeves of her cardigan. âEspecially Liam. Heâs a persistent motherfucker, isnât he?â
The nurse said nothing, simply pursing her lips in neutrality and nodding towards the door.
With a sigh, Kara forced herself up from where sheâd snuggled up in her armchair and began to walk down the corridor.
Honestly, Kara didnât understand Liamâs infatuation with her.
Kara Drake had lived a charmed life, up until the age of fifteen. Her father had died just a year before her constantly social-climbing mother decided to marry again, to a man whose riches had come from doing questionable things to ignored people throughout his lifetime. Karaâs younger sisters, Louisa and Marianna, had been blind to his ways â they were young and adaptable, unlike their cynical big sister, who had been Daddyâs little girl up until his death.
Long story short, Karaâs attempts to open her motherâs eyes up to her step-fatherâs flaws had fallen short. In the end, Kara had come to the horrible realization that her mother didnât care what her new partner did, so long as he kept doing it and buying her new cars â just as she realized her mother hadnât given a ratâs ass to her previous husbandâs death, due to the fact theyâd began facing difficulty anyway.
Karaâs father had been a nice man, a kind man â the sort who was too nice for someone as vain and brattish as Karaâs mother. In his death, Karaâs mother had been released â she could live out her dream of being a trophy housewife and acting as if she were Hollywoodâs lost gem, as opposed to the selfish, narcisstic bitch she was. Kara had tried as hard as she could to stick it out, for her little sistersâ sake â but when little Lou and Anna had become old enough to be shipped out to boarding school, Kara had been given no choice but to accept her motherâs ways or fly the coop.
Sheâd chosen the latter.
The rest was history. The unfortunate part was that Karaâs drug addiction had been a complete accident â a bad side-effect to abusive boyfriends looking to take advantage and Karaâs naivety allowing her to place her trust in the misguided and unworthy.
All things considered, Kara thought to herself as she followed her nurse through a set of code-locked doors, she hadnât turned out too bad. Kara had a strict reputation for not taking shit from her customers, but sheâd certainly paid her dues enough to be given status at the top. She was the same sheâd always been â cool. Literally. The cool kid, unruffled by life, coasting through by whatever means available.
She didnât steal and she didnât lie. She worked in a HMV during her days off, and served the evening shift at Garfunkelâs in Holborn on weekends, if she was sober enough â which she tried to be. Louisa and Marianne were old enough to stay secretly in contact with Kara now and she never exposed them to the dark, dirty world she now belonged to.
Her mother still deposited money into her old bank account â the one Kara hadnât been able to close, for sentimental reasons: her father had opened that account with her -, in the hope Kara would finally sell herself out for it... But to date, Kara never had.
It was ironic that she sold her body for other things instead.
It wasnât just the heroin Kara was addicted to, though â it was the other things, too, the pills and caffeine that she relied on for a weak fix to see her through the jobs that didnât require her to wear suspenders and nothing else. In a strange way, it was the constant coffee and cocktail of over-the-counter tablets that made Kara more disappointed in herself than anything else; when Kara had first stumbled into the, ahem, evening business, sheâd been faced with a lot worse. Abusive customers. Being subjugated to... Terrible things, hearing terrible things, having to live in places that wouldnât have been worthy as a laundry cupboard in the five bedroom home sheâd grown up in.
But Liam didnât know any of that. If anything, Liam only knew the sleaze â the girl who had given him half of a handjob in an alleyway, as she attempted for the sixth time this month to escape her pimp. Her agency had recently come under new management â neither Kara nor any of the other girls questioned such things, the details of such affairs were often grim in their business -, and Karaâs new boss was anything but unfriendly. In fact, heâd taken different tactics to Karaâs previous boss â rather than offering drugs as party favours, dangling a carrot, this new boss just shoved them all in the ass with a stick. More often than not, literally.
Kara had refused to take such nonsense. She was at the top of her game â she was playing big league. And whilst that had given her limited protection from her new owner... How did the saying go? The higher you climb, the higher you fall.
Liam, Kara knew, had set up the raid that had gotten her â and the aforementioned ass-shover â arrested, alongside half of the new recruits and several high-class clients. It was all over the papers. Of course, nobody knew the member of a boyband was behind it all.
It just didnât make sense. Sheâd messed with him as a way to hide, sheâd brushed off his every advance, sheâd made it clear that she still had a twisted set of values, despite being a hooker (no matter how high class). Yet he still came to visit her; he still sponsored her rehab visits and lawyerâs fees; and he still stared at her with a look that, were Kara not so cynical of such things after her fatherâs death, she would call awe.
Kara was wondering what it was she was missing about Liamâs ulterior motives, when she realized it wasnât Liam waiting for her in the visitorâs lounge.
âHe made me do it.â A blonde-haired, blue-eyed Irish beauty told her with an irritated sigh. Kara glanced over to the nurse, unsure of herself â only to find the nurse had already left, leaving Kara and the stranger alone. âBut if somebodyâs going to give Liam a character reference, honestly, youâre lucky itâs me â Iâm currently the only crazily honest bitch this band has got left.â The visitor thought for a moment. âThe other oneâs on vacation.â
Kara stood there, completely unsettled. She hadnât been expecting... This. Sheâd had a crazy few days â heroin withdrawal would do that to you â but she liked to think of herself as fearless. Determined. Her addiction had hurt, but she was determined to fight through it.
Yet this petite, pretty girl in front of her struck the fear of God right into Karaâs chest. And she was an atheist.
âShould I sit down?â Kara asked slowly, eyeing the chair the girl was sitting on. There was more than enough space for two.
âOnly if Iâm not going to catch something.â The girl said bluntly. She patted the slightly protruding stomach of hers, one that didnât quite fit the rest of her frame. âIâve got my little girl to think of.â
 âThere you are.â Soph said quietly, seeing Zayn sitting on the edge of the bed thoughtfully. âMy Dad just left. He said youâd already said goodbye.â
Zayn asked her so casually, in such a friendly tone, that Soph was momentarily thrown. It felt so... Normal. Like nothing bad had ever happened before them, like they were a couple again.
âAcross the border.â Soph rolled her eyes and sat beside him and, although she maintained a respectable distance between them, for a moment she wondered if anything bad had ever happened between them at all. âHeâs got too many Pakistani stamps on his passport and his journey was really sudden. Plus, he may as well get actual work done while heâs close by. I said Iâd see him when I went home.â
The word home hung uncomfortably over Sophâs head, as did the âIâ. But, rather than comment on it or make some sort of gesture of disapproval, Zayn simply nodded.
It was beginning to frighten Soph slightly.
âI was just on the phone.â Zayn finally said, after a few moments of what felt to Soph like awkward silence. âYou know, getting back to the real world.â
âOh.â Soph settled on saying.
âRose called.â Zayn continued, nodding towards where Sophâs phone was on the dresser. âShe probably wanted to see how you were doing.â
âIâll... Call her in a little while.â Soph muttered, staring at the floor. Rose. Soph knew she owed Rose an explanation â after all, theyâd only spoken briefly after Amanâs fight. But the thought of telling Rose everything that had happened in the past few days felt... Unnatural somehow. It were as if, by telling Rose, Soph was contaminating the entire city of London â a city sheâd always called home.
No. No, she needed the two separate. The two realities of London versus Lucknow, the two different versions of Soph â they had to be kept apart, for Sophâs sanity. She felt as if she were floating on a cloud, some sort of strange transitional limbo, where the two different versions of herself had not yet merged â but knew they needed to.
And that felt too volatile to be dealt with right now.
âI thought youâd be too tired to talk to her, or whatever.â Zayn nodded. âSo thatâs why I sorted it for you.â
âHow do you mean?â Soph glanced up this time, something dark curling at the pit of her stomach. And no â it wasnât lust.
âI spoke to her for you.â Zayn told Soph calmly, turning to face her â and in that moment, Sophâs entire world stopped. âYou know. Caught her up to speed on what her best friend has been doing these past few days.â Zayn smiled at his wife serenely, as Soph took a shaky breath, the room beginning to spin. Oh, no. Oh, no. Zayn cocked his head to the side innocently. âI just thought Iâd help.â
Soph didnât say anything for a few minutes. She couldnât. Sheâd forgotten how to speak, how to think.
She should have known. She should have known the moment sheâd walked in and found him waiting for her so calmly, that something was wrong. But sheâd wanted it to be real â sheâd wanted everything to be magically fixed.
Not to pretend nothing ever happened, of course not â but for just a few seconds, feel like she wasnât alone. That she had people she was meant to be with, there for her, the way it was supposed to be.
âYou are the worst type of person Iâve ever met.â Soph finally whispered, staring at Zayn with what felt like angry tears. Swearing, shouting, screaming â to Soph, it felt as if there wasnât a word in the entire Universe that could successfully describe the pure hatred Soph felt for Zayn in that moment.
âArenât you going to ask why?â Zayn asked neutrally.
Soph simply shook her head, trying to control herself. Very quickly, the shock was wearing off â and going by the stutter of her heart as it began to beat more and more erratically, a terrifying wave of rage was about to come next.
She wasnât going to ask Zayn â she wasnât going to give him the satisfaction.
âCome on, babe.â Soph sucked in a large breath as Zayn continued to taunt her. âI was only trying to help fix things, like you have.â
Sophâs fists clenched so hard that her knuckles turned white, squeezing her eyes shut. She was going to block him out. She had to â if she didnât, she was going to lose it.
Soph had seen Tiff briefly, just as sheâd been going inside and heâd been heading out to meet Bee. She knew exactly why Zayn was acting this way â but he didnât know that. Zayn wanted to brag.
Another surge of resentment hit Soph so hard, it almost knocked the breath out of her. It had taken one sentence â one sentence!- for Tiff to let Soph know what was going on behind her back, thanks to their understanding. Theyâd been friends for years. Hell, Soph had known Jai for barely a few weeks and they had that understanding!
Yet she didnât have even a smidgen of that with her own husband; the person who supposedly loved her, the one who had insisted they married in the first place, the one who treated her more like a piece of meat than he did his own dinner.
Your Dadâs boys did a number on him.
That was all Tiff had muttered under his breath, as Soph walked the other way. Neither one of them had stopped: nor had they given any inkling that theyâd done anything other than walk past one another. Because they understood one another.
Soph and Zayn didnât understand one another.
âI hate you.â Soph suddenly snarled with such venom that it immediately penetrated Zaynâs cool demeanour. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion: his mouth set in a grim line, as he watched her with resentment. âDo you get that, you sick, twisted little bastard? I hate you.â
Zayn seemed to think for a moment, before nodding.
âOkay.â He muttered, first to himself, then again to Soph. âYeah, okay. Let it all out. If pretending itâs all my point helps you get over yourself, Soph, Iâm all for it. But hurry up, yeah?â
Zayn was deliberately antagonizing her, yes â but he was also being entirely serious. He thought that Soph pretending to blame him... Was actually what she was doing.
Sophâs vision darkened.
When Adam had been six years old, the mother of another child complained about Adamâs behaviour when Soph had picked him up from school. She said that Adam had told her son he hated him â and although the woman tried hard to be friends with Soph and her mother, in that moment, Soph knew she was a little prat.
As it turned out, Adam hadnât said âI hate youâ â the other little boy, who had been irritating Adam for weeks, asked if Adam hated him when Adam had been forced to resort to pointedly ignoring the little boy whenever he deliberately went Adamâs way. Adam had simply stared at him with a dull expression on his face, glaring holes into his head.
That was one of the few times Soph had felt absolute fury. When she saw the mother the next day and told her what had really happened, including finding the other little boy and warning him to stop annoying Adam â under the pretence of telling Adam off, of course â and had made them shake hands.
The other little boy had hugged Adam. Adam had looked repulsed.
The mother had then quickly disappeared, upon realizing she and her son had been caught out for trying to get Adam in trouble. It was no secret Adamâs mother was strict â had she found out before Soph, Adam would have been lost all Xbox and TV privileges for the next month.
Sophâs blood had boiled when the mother had tried to scamper away, when Soph had demanded both boys shake hands and apologize to one another. Every time she saw her in the playground after that, her eyes would narrow and her grip on Adamâs arm would tighten. In the end, it was Adam who had to calm his sister down â and Adam no longer took notice of the little boy, who still went out of his way to shake his backside in Adamâs face whenever he walked past him in class, knowing his sister would lose all patience and kill someone if she found out.
In a weird way, Adam had found it amusing. To this day, it was still one of Adamâs fondest memories â the look of utter hatred on Sophâs face, whenever the very same mother would sickeningly say hello every day.
Today, that fury was back â only this time, there was no Adam to hold her hand and calm her down. There was no innocent child involved, no matter how irritating. There wasnât the restriction of maintaining a pleasant facade because it was home.
No. In that moment, all Soph had was pure, unadulterated and vicious hatred â and the source of it all sitting right in front of her.
Soph didnât know what she was about to do next. But she knew it wasnât going to be pleasant.
 Isolde placed the coffee in front of Kara, before sitting down pointedly opposite her, taking a sip of her own hot chocolate. Caffeine was bad for Alanna.
âSo... Youâre Liamâs friendâs ex?â Kara said slowly, picking up the Styrofoam cup carefully. âWhoâs just had Liamâs friendâs baby?â
âWe were together, I got pregnant, we broke up, I found out I was pregnant, he decided we were pregnant.â Isolde shrugged. âAnd theyâre not just friends â Liam and Niall are bandmates.â
âAnd judging by your accent, heâs â your  one â is the blonde, Irish kid?â Kara continued, glancing down at the small magazine poster of 1D Isolde had left on the table.
âWhat, just because we both have accents?â Isolde demanded, Kara instantly opening her mouth to correct her. âNo. Itâs okay.â Isolde said quickly, sighing. âI got what you meant. I just wanted to see what youâd do if I blew up at you.â
This time, it was Kara who bristled. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she sat straighter, from where sheâd previously been slumped.
âJust because Iâm a hooker, doesnât mean I donât have self-respect.â Kara told Isolde seriously. âSo donât think that Iâm a meek little baby, or that Iâm some crazy coke-head. Iâm here because I want to be.â
âYouâre here because you donât have a choice.â Isolde snorted.
âIâm here,â Kara said slowly and deliberately, leaning over the table. âBecause I want to be.â
âLiam cares for you. Itâs not just sex with him. Heâs not another customer.â Isolde told her, unfazed by Karaâs show of personality. âHeâs also someone close to my little girl and my little girlâs father. And heâs been through a Hell of a lot, so if youâre messing with him â stop it.â
âI told him I donât want a relationship.â Kara managed to say through gritted teeth. âIâve laid down the ground rules, itâs not my fault if heâs breaking them by bringing you here, when heâs on the outside and Iâm not.â
âI thought you wanted to be here?â Isolde said quickly.
Kara took a sip of coffee, rolling her eyes.
âI do.â Kara finally said, licking her lips. âBut Iâm not saying being in a treatment centre doesnât have its limitations.â
The two of them watched one another for a moment â warm blue eyes staring into cool brown ones.
âIâm going to come back sometime later this week.â Isolde finally said, getting to her feet. Kara looked up at her in confusion â only furthered by how Isolde seemed to be hiding a small smirk. âAnd not because Liam tells me.â
Isolde then left without another word.
Liam was waiting by the car when she exited the building.
âWell?â Liam pounced instantly, jogging up to greet her. âHow was it? What did she say? Is everything okay, is she missing me?â
Isolde said nothing, waiting until they were both in the car. She waited for Liamâs babbling to give way to frustrated silence.
âI like her.â Isolde finally shrugged, making Liam almost crash the car with delight. âI do. I like her... But damn, sheâs going to be a handful.â
 âYouâre a shitty person!â Soph was yelling loudly, bashing at Zaynâs chest with every word. âYouâre a shitty, shitty, shitty person and I hate, hate, hate you!â
âWhatâs fucking wrong with you?â Zayn shouted, attempting to push Soph away. Instead, she yanked herself back â sheâd rather he didnât touch her, not ever, everagain and certainly not now â and grabbed one of the bags in the corner, flinging its contents onto the bed and haphazardly rifling through the drawers. âSoph, what are you doing? Stop acting fucking crazy!â
âOh, babe, this isnât even half of the level of crazy Iâm feeling right now.â Soph seethed, shoving the drawers closed angrily. âI am getting the Hell away from you, thatâs what Iâm doing. Iâm spending this evening with Lucky and then Iâm going to get a ride with her back to Mumbai and then I am going to get as far away from you as I possibly can!â
âSoph, stop being stupid-â Zayn snapped, pulling on her arm as she began to throw bunches of his socks and underwear out of one of the drawers, digging around for the sports bra Zayn tried to keep hidden for her. Apparently, itâs wasnât as much of a âturn-onâ, compared to lacy nothings that had no purpose. Well, now Soph didnât have to care!
âTouch me one more time and you wonât have hands, and it wonât be my Dad calling the shots either!â Soph shouted in Zaynâs face, yanking back her arm as Zaynâs expression became incensed. âThis was all a mistake, since when did I let anyone tell me how to-â Soph stopped and, because her silence was so sudden, so did Zayn.
Only Zayn took a little longer to realize â and so saw pick up the small, plastic bag full of smaller bags of pills and powders and went to react a second after she headed for the bathroom.
âSoph, wait, let me ex â Soph!â Zayn yelled, twisting his arm around Sophâs waist as she automatically went to throw the bag into the toilet, too stunned to do anything other than let auto-pilot take over. âSoph!â Zayn shouted again, his voice muffled as Soph screamed, fighting against him.
Zayn continued to try and pull her back, her legs flailing in the air, as the bag fell on the seat.
âYou piece of shit!â Soph yelled, pushing her legs out as far as she could and watching with satisfaction as the bag dropped inside the cistern.
âYouâre fucking mad!â Zayn managed to say, grabbing a fistful of her hair as he pulled on her shoulder, ignoring Sophâs yelp of pain. âWhat are you doing? Do you have any idea how much thatâs worth?â
That one concept â the concept of Zayn looking at a bag filled with death economically â cut through Sophâs pain, physical and mental, and her shock at finding the bag in Zaynâs drawer.
It all made sense now. It all made so much more sense.
As Soph kicked and thrashed against Zayn, who held her, the past few months flashed before Sophâs eyes. The niggling doubts that she had been in the wrong, that she was somehow defected, that she was washing everything sheâd been scared of having and then been glad to have down the toilet â all wrong.
And then it hit her like a punch to the gut â her conversation with Jai only one day before. A conversation when Soph had refused to believe it was drugs â yet sheâd wished it were.
Except, when Zayn had seen sheâd found the bag, he hadnât seemed like a drug addict â heâd mentioned money.
Zayn, Soph knew, was not short on money.
Sophâs mind reeled, millions of thoughts and memories flashing through her head by the second.
He may not be on something regularly, but he was using.
And what he wasnât, Soph had a horrible feeling he was giving away â and not for free.
And because, for the second time that afternoon, Soph felt that words could truly not do her hatred justice, she did the one thing that would express exactly what she was feeling to someone she considered as scummy as her husband â she stretched her leg as far out as she could, despite Zayn shouting and pulling her away, and kicked the flush as hard as she could.
There was a moment of silence as, with Zaynâs hand still tangled in Sophâs hair on her shoulder, as they both froze. The bag disappeared with a wave of water and they were so still, it was debatable whether they were even still breathing; Sophâs legs mid-air, Zaynâs arm wound around her, their chests unmoving.
Then all Hell broke loose.
 When Aman stepped out of the car, his grandfather and uncle nodding that theyâd catch him up later, Jai was instantly by his side.
âShould you be doing that?â Jai nodded towards where Aman was pulling off the brace that was supporting his arm, offering him a glass bottle of Coke.
âProbably not.â Aman grunted, throwing the stupid brace somewhere aimlessly. He hated the damn thing. âWhat do you want?â
âWhat, a friend canât just hang out?â Jai gasped loudly, holding his chest. âIâm hurt, bro!â
âYou talk such crap.â Aman muttered, shaking his head. They both sat on the marble steps leading onto the houseâs front porch, their elbows propped on the stair behind them.
It was a lazy, warm afternoon in Lucknow â the busy sounds of the city could be heard in the distance, the harsh sun making it almost impossible to do anything other than sit and swelter in the heat. The smell of water and fresh flowers was a very different type of smell Aman had grown up with as a child: and although he didnât regret his upbringing, this was a nice change.
It was the kind of afternoon, the kind of setting that demanded romance â stolen kisses and sweet nothings, entwined fingers and brushing bodies.
Aman and Jai, however, were completely unaware of this.
âHow was her father on the way to the airport?â Jai asked suddenly, after a few moments of enjoyed, casual silence. âDid you get the third degree, or what?â
âNo.â Aman shrugged. âHe was talking to Grandfather, we didnât really say much.â
Jai nodded, taking a sip of his Coke. He watched as Aman pulled the larger bandage over his cut aside, to see the small gauze pressed to his arm instead â where Soph had accidentally stabbed him.
If Jai had blinked, he would have missed it â but after yearsâ worth of friendship, Jai knew when not to blink. As a result, he saw the small smirk and shake of Amanâs head as he checked the bandage.
âSo, when did you realize you were in love with a married woman?â Jai asked conversationally.
Aman choked on his drink.
âDid Raj hit you too hard on the head with his truck this morning?â Aman spluttered in disbelief. âHas your brain finally packed in after so many years of stupidity?â
âIt was a simple question.â Jai shrugged, sitting up, his forearms resting on his knees. âYouâre the one avoiding it.â
Aman stared at his best friend with incredulity. Wow, he was dense.
âBecause itâs stupid.â Aman said slowly and clearly, in English.
âYou still havenât answered my question.â
âYouâre an idiot.â Aman repeated. âYouâre an idiot. How idiotic are you for even asking me that? Have you not heard of my three rules?â
âYou mean the bullshit you started telling everyone when you found me with my sonâs mother?â Jai snorted, refusing to call Zara his wife. Aman raised his eyebrows. âYou donât flirt, you donât go for married women and you donât fall in love. But since when did you become master of the universe?â
âIâm master of my own universe.â Aman grinned. âHaving money has that effect.â
âShut up, you bloody street urchin.â Jai muttered in disgust, nudging his best friend, who was chuckling to himself. âHaving money, youâre a right prat sometimes. Master of your own universe. Youâre not even master of your own fists, your game was off when I saved your ass the other day.â
âHey.â Aman said sharply, refusing to have his ego wounded â and strangely grateful of the change of topic. âTalk shit get hit.â
âWhat, with you being so messed up from the fight?â He grinned. âGo on. Try. Put yourself on bed rest for a few more weeks and stay here with your Dad, I dare you.â
Jai was allowed one second of glee, before Aman, with a completely serious expression, bitch slapped him.
Jai sat there, stunned, for a few seconds.
âYou ass.â He muttered, this time as Aman laughed evilly. âJust because you want to move away from the topic! You know you canât fool me, right? I know you too well?â
âYouâve been missing for how many years?â Aman asked incredulously, still ignoring the question entirely. He wasnât having this conversation with Jai. Nope, it was just too pointless and, therefore, not worth Amanâs time. Much like affection, actually.
âIâm being serious.â Jai sighed, slapping Aman upside the head to gain his attention. The two scuffled for a few moments â more just slapping each other repeatedly wherever they could reach, forgetting they were now grown men -, before Jai finally put his hands up in surrender. âI mean it. I can see it. And Iâm pretty sure Grandfather can, too.â
Aman turned to Jai in shock.
âDonât talk rubbish.â He said quickly, recovering â but the moment had passed. Jai had seen the horror on Amanâs face.
âYou can lie to yourself all you want.â Jai murmured in a low, quiet hum â the type reserved solely for moments like this: when Jai had just a few seconds to try and help Aman as much as Aman had helped him, to be there for him in ways he recently hadnât been able to. âBut I know you. And so does Grandfather. Why do you think he likes her so much? Why do you think he was talking to her excuse of a husband?â
âHeâs just trying to help out, he worries if something like that would happen to Busra-â
âHe was probing and you know it.â Jai continued, completely ignoring the interruption. âHe spent the entire afternoon playing cards with her and her father today. He helped you get rid of a body-â
âUs.â Aman corrected, his eyes blazing. âI didnât do anything.â
âDonât you dare try and pretend I had anything to do with it, so you can hide your feelings behind a group effort.â Jai warned. âI mean it, Aman. I will punch you so hard in the face, your Dadâs balls will feel it.â
âThatâs gross.â Aman muttered, looking at him in disgust. âWhat is wrong with you? And the tiny little things have probably been numbed by STDs anyway-â
âAnyway.â Jai said, closing his eyes for patience. âThis girl knows almost as much as I do about your life â and I experienced it with you. An entire lifetime, she knows in a few weeks.â
âI donât know how to love someone.â Aman said bluntly, looking out to the garden. At Jaiâs unimpressed stare, he simply shrugged his shoulders. âI donât.â
âOh, really?â Jaiâs voice was beginning to rise now, from a mixture of irritation and disbelief. âWhat about Bee? And Lucky? And your mother and Grandfather and-â
âThatâs all different.â Aman interrupted, his own impatience beginning to show. He didnât like conversations like this. Ones that revolved around feelings and empathy and that usually ended in self-pitying. âTheyâre my... Theyâre my family-â
âLoving someone makes them your family.â Jai said quietly. âAnd not because stupid society tells you to, but because it just happens.â
The two of them stared each other down for a few moments, neither one refusing to back down first. Finally, for the first time in the history of their friendship â Aman glanced away.
âYouâre wrong.â Aman told him, staring angry holes into the grass. Jai said nothing. âI mean it. Youâre wrong.â
And that was when they heard the giant crash of glass from inside.
At first, Aman thought it was coming from Beeâs room â but as he and Jai rushed up the stairs and saw Bee and Tiff glancing around their bedroom door with wet hair, they realized they had a much bigger problem.
 âThis has nothing to do with you!â Zayn groaned in frustration, rubbing his face.
âNothing to do with me?â Lucky seethed, barely noticing Jai enter the room â which was something she usually took a lot of notice of. âYou just threw a vase at her face-â
âI wasnât aiming at her!â Zayn yelled, ignoring Luckyâs sound of disgust.
âYeah, it looks it!â Lucky shot back.
âDo you want to stop interfering in my marriage now?â Zayn demanded rudely. âWhy donât you find someone else, or is this why nobody else wants you? Because I get why!â
âDonât talk to her like that.â Jai growled, stepping into the room and glaring at Zayn with such a cool, calculated type of anger, that if Lucky hadnât been so shocked at Jai coming to her defence, she would have been flattered. âSay youâre sorry right now, or Iâll break your teeth in.â
âOh, please, get over yourself-â
Aman shook his head slightly, blocking out all of the noise. He glanced at Tiff, who now stood with a towel wrapped around his waist in the doorway â and in silent understanding, Tiff soothingly ushered Bee back into their bedroom quietly shutting the door.
Returning to Soph and Zaynâs room, where Jai and Zayn were squaring up to one another despite Luckyâs protests, Amanâs eyes scoured the room â finding what he was looking for in the corner by the window.
Soph stood there, her fingertips smudged with the fresh blood trickling from a small cut above her right eyebrow. Shattered glass lay around her and, judging by the utter mess of the room, other things had been broken too.
Aman wasnât sure what did it. Maybe it was the conversation that had felt so intrusive, despite it being in his trusted brotherâs company, that had taken place just moments before; or seeing Jai and Lucky instantly protecting one another, beginning to argue between themselves; or even the fact that Bee was frightened in the other room, but Aman was too busy dealing with another mess to comfort her â while he still could. Whilst she still believed he cared.
Or maybe it was the look of utter distraught on Sophâs face, one he recognized from New York, eons away now â and maybe, just maybe, that spurned an anger so deep inside of him and a strange sort of awakening he refused to acknowledge, that made him act the way he did.
âEveryone get out!â Aman suddenly roared, his voice easily ringing above the others. âJai, Lucky, go into the other room.â
âAman-â Jai began through gritted teeth, but one look instantly silenced him. âCome on.â Jai muttered to Lucky, taking her hand and pulling her away, despite her protests.
Jai went to close the door on the way out â but Aman stopped him.
âKeep it open, heâs just leaving.â Aman nodded jerkily to Zayn, his fists clenched at his sides. No physical strain, his doctor had said. No hard impact.
Clearly, his doctor hadnât met Zayn Malik.
âListen, you piece of-â
âI will smash your face in so hard that every album cover youâre after today will look like a puddle of baby puke, if you donât shut up, get out and calm down before coming back.â Aman said, trying as hard as he could to keep the anger from his voice. He wasnât doing very well. âNow, youâre my grandfatherâs guest so Iâm trying really hard not to hurt you, but if you continue to disrespect his hospitality I will snap your spine in half, do you get that?â Before Zaynâs reddened face could say anything, Aman added â âAnd itâll be a lot worse to what happened to you last night, I assure you.â
It was only out of the corner of his eye that Aman saw Soph cover her mouth in shock. He knew. Heâd known all along. How did he know that? Tiff never would have told.
Zayn stalked over to Aman, their shoulders brushing.
âThis isnât over.â Zayn vowed.
âItâs over when I say it is.â Aman replied evenly.
The two stood, staring one another down.
âJust go.â Soph finally said â and Zayn and Aman stared at her with such surprise, that she felt naked in front of them. âZayn, just go!â
The door shut loudly behind him.
âIâm not stopping you from going after him.â Aman finally found the strength to say, unable to look Soph in the eye and focusing on the floor instead. âBut-â
Except Aman magically stopped talking when a trembling Soph threw herself into his arms.
Aman stood there, shocked into place, as Soph tucked her arms underneath his and clutched at his shoulders from behind. He was dressed in Asian clothes â tapered silk trousers and a long, sea-blue tunic with the sleeved rolled up. For some reason, Soph found that... Comforting.
âIâm in deeper than I can take.â Soph whispered fearfully into his neck. âI didnât realize until now, but I canât do this, I canât. I canât.â
The conviction with which she said it left no space for argument â it was fact. For once, it wasnât even slightly plausible that Soph could combat this.
And Aman knew enough about her character to know that sheâd never, ever uttered those words before â and wouldnât lightly.
But for once, Aman was speechless. And so, not knowing what else to do and feeling something... Uncomfortable in the centre of his chest as he did so, he hesitantly put his arms around her.
For a moment, he was awkward, unsure â but then he squeezed her close so tight, that Soph felt a breath of relief leave her lungs as her hands fisted into his shirt.
âI couldnât have gotten this far without you.â Soph murmured, her voice only audible to him. She pulled away slightly, their cheeks brushing, hers feeling the slight fuzz of Amanâs growing stubble from the long day. âIâve never said thank you before. I couldnât have gotten this far.â
Aman pulled away slightly, his throat closing as he did â and as he went to face Soph, as he went to speak and tell her not to speak nonsense, that heâd just been returning her favour; he stopped, upon seeing the closeness of their faces.
Although Soph had long ago begun to notice the little, unique features that made up Amanâs face, Aman had never seen her up close. Not like... This.
He could see the hues of brown in her eyes, the shades of chocolate and hazel; he could see the subtle arch of her eyebrows; the fullness of her pink lips and the redness of her eyes from her crying, the salty track marks from previous tears left on what looked like achingly soft skin.
Yet, Aman realized â none of that mattered.
Her mouth was so close. He could feel her warm breath against his lips and somehow, their stances had changed; one hand remained on her back, but the other was on her waist and her hands had found their way to his chest.
Soph suddenly tiptoed, their lips almost brushing, so close to brushing that Amanâs stone-cold heart seemed to splutter for air at the thought â as if his very survival depended on it.
Sophâs heart thrummed in her chest, her eyes torn between being locked on Amanâs own or his lips.
Everything about him â his arms wrapped around her, his warmth against her, the crease of his eyebrows indicating that he felt it too â it was better than a dream. It was real and Soph had never wanted anything more in her life than to stay there.
Hesitantly, both unsure, they moved forward â and just as Sophâs bottom lip brushed Amanâs top one, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine â
âDonât.â Aman whispered, gulping down all impulse. âDonât do this to yourself.â At Sophâs small, questioning glance â a fleeting one, as her eyes remained fixated on his lips -, Aman continued â âYouâll regret this tomorrow. Because then youâll feel like there isnât a difference between him and you.â
Amanâs words hit Soph in the chest like a bullet â and she instantly jerked back, Aman dropping his hands, despite Soph desperately not wanting him to.
âBut you want this.â Soph murmured, before shaking her head and saying, louder this time - âI know you do, you want this! You wanted to-â She glanced furtively at the door, before turning to Aman again, her face confused and incensed all at the same time. âYou wanted to kiss me!â
Aman clenched his jaw and stared down defiantly at Soph, and said, as kindly as he could;
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âDonât do this to me.â Soph finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears welled up in her eyes â and Aman clenched his fists in anger at himself, in frustration, though fighting against his conscience to accept why. âDonât do what he does to me.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
And, with that, before he could change his mind â Aman left.