(Chapter 1)

Syha

I was born in a upper-middle class family. We didn't have affluent wealth, but we were satisfied and happy with whatever we had. It was enough.

Growing up, none of us siblings had to suffer for anything, dad fulfilled our wishes to best of his abilities. We were raised with love and care.

When I reached the age of 25, my aunts and uncles started bringing in cvs of boys for my marriage since I was the eldest of the siblings.

I didn't have any one I liked particularly and having studied in all girls' institutions all my life, I was quite shy from the opposite gender. I wasn't really opposed to the idea of marriage too.

So, I began looking over the biodatas brought in by my relatives. And he caught my eye. Not because of how devilishly handsome he is, but because of the hidden story behind his glowing hazel irises. As my gaze fixated on his photo, I froze for a moment.

I could almost tell the amount of secrets and something else hiding behind his eyes. They were emotionless and blank, yet I could read them and this strange curiosity spurred me into saying yes to this boy. He was 27. So, our age dynamic was perfect as per my wish.

A week later, my aunt, my father's older sister, bore the news that they also were interested and wanted to see me in person. My anxiety knew no bound that day.

When we finally met in person, he didn't even look in my eyes for once. We were asked to talk privately and he kept his gaze far away from the front porch, hands stuffed in his pockets and the tension in his shoulders was almost palpable.

I talked on my own for a while then stopped, there was no point in talking to a robot. I thought he wasn't interested in me and sighed inwardly as I  prepared myself for the upcoming rejection.

But to my surprise, his mother handed me a pair of golden bangles before leaving and said they were ready for this relationship to progress. I was stunned. He still didn't look at me.

Araan Azlaan was a mystery to me. He still is.

A month after our first meeting, we got married and in between, we had total of three conversations, all of which consisted of him answering in 'yes' 'no' or 'hm'. It was no news that he's a reticent person.

The way he responded so lowly towards me, any other girl would have rejected this marriage right then and there. But something deep inside me told me to be patient. Told me that there's more to this man than meets the eye. A deep feeling pulled me towards him.

Araan and his whole family are settled in the States so after a few days of our marriage, we all boarded a plane and left our country. It was hard leaving my parents but since I have lived in the US for my studies in my early 20s, it wasn't that big of a deal for me.

And I'd be visiting my parents every year so I managed myself.

Araan had a younger brother and a sister, they were twins. His father was diabetic and really sick, leaving Araan with all the responsibilities to bear on a very young age. His mother mostly stayed home except vising the small flower shop his younger sister had opened in her university area.

His siblings mostly stayed in their dorms and visited the house on weekends. We also spend the weekends at his parents'. I love the weekends. Those are the only times I feel like I'm living among humans.

Araan doesn't tell me to stay in the guest room, or not be in his presence, the thing is, he doesn't tell me anything, at all. He almost behaves like he still lives on his own. And I let him.

During the quiet hours when the sunrays scatter the living room in its soft glow, I wonder if I made a mistake by marrying him. Or, why did he even marry me if he isn't ready for it? Why is he like this?

Living all alone in this huge house makes my skin crawl and mind go crazy. It's already been a month since we have come here, living as a married couple, and yet, I know nothing about him. Except the few things his mom and siblings had told me.

Honestly speaking, my patience is wearing thin. One could only bare so much. I have been always so cheerful and lively, so this life is draining me. Pushing me towards the edge and it's only a matter of time before I snap. I have given him enough time to let himself unravel on his own, but he doesn't seem to have taken the hint and is only pushing me to my limit.

His silence irks me, makes me want to scream at him. His emotionless face annoys me and I don't think I can carry on like this anymore. It's exhausting. I need a change, I need to step up and take matters into my own hands. Before this goes on for too long and reaches the point of no return, I have to pull the reins.

"I've applied for some jobs." I let him know one night, serving the plates of food on the table after he has come back from work. "It's suffocating to stay all day alone with no one to talk to." I add, watching him carefully for any reaction.

But his face remains like always, blank, masked. My blood boils.

"Okay." He mutters, chewing the tortilla bite.

I sit down across from him, eating my own plate of food. "How was work?" I ask like usual.

He shrugs, "Good." My hand clenches around the spoon.

Before I can ask anything else, he's standing up and bringing his half empty plate to the kitchen. I know he's done for the night and doesn't wait for me to head for bed.

I release a deep sigh, putting away my spoon and slump on the chair. I really need a plan to get him to come around. I can not live like this anymore, but I can not give up without trying too.

Thankfully, the right time to execute a plan presents itself on its own, two days later.

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