Unbreak Me 23 ??Leftover Dinner??

I hoped the puffiness of my eyes didn't give away the fact that I had been, among other things, crying. Coming out of the toilet took a lot of courage and one look at Ammar's face and I felt like puking again.

He was looking down at his mobile phone when I walked up to our table and I could, thankfully, not feel a certain pair of eyes on me. That just left me feeling alone. I sat down and Ammar looked up at me, smiled and went on to do whatever it was that he was doing on his phone.

I'd have enough of this man. I wouldn't spend another second feeling like c.r.a.p for the way he treated me. I wasn't a lowly being who would bow down to him just because he had money. He was rich, big deal. He could stuff his money in his mouth for all I cared.

I just wanted out of this relationship. It had taken too much of my heart and soul. I'd wasted too many tears in regret of the decisions I had made when I was twelve.

I cleared my throat and Ammar's eyes travelled up.

"What's up?" he said.

"I don't want this, Ammar," My hands were all clammy and my voice wavered ever so slightly. "When I married you, let's be honest I was going through some very difficult times and you took advantage of it."

He laughed in a mocking and I'm-better-that-you way. Like what I was saying had no meaning or value. Like I was stupid.

I stringently clenched my hands under the table and continued, though I felt about a thousand times more nervous. I'd be d.a.m.ned if I let him trample all over me. "I won't let you force me into this. Not again. You have to divorce me this week."

He kept smiling even though there was a tightness to his eyes, a cynical madness in those black irises. He didn't reply, as if I wasn't even worth it.

My knees jerked constantly and I tapped my palms over them, trying my best not to lose it in front of everyone. In front of Zayn. He would definitely notice if something was wrong with me. I sneaked a peak from out of the corner of my eyes but he wasn't looking here.

He was speaking to Biya.

I wanted to laugh so hard if only so that I wouldn't burst into tears.

Nothing was going right in life. Nothing at all.

Ammar and I stared at each other. I kept silent until he finally decided to open his mouth.

"Let me tell you something, Leia," His voice was mocking and I barely stopped myself from slapping him. His hand crawled over mine as he tightly clutched it. I ground my teeth together. "Have you ever wondered where your mommy dearest is?"

All the breath left my body.

No. He wouldn't.

He grinned like a predator. "She came begging for help only a year after our marriage. I bought her an apartment in Chelsea—do you know how much that costs? I suppose not. All I have to do is make one call and . . . Do you get where I'm going with this?"

My chin wobbled. "Do you have no humanity? How could you be like this?"

He laughed out loud and several people turned to look at us. "Oh, Leia. Innocent, naïve Leia. She has no dignity. I can easily get her back to the prost.i.tution center she was at over here. It's all up to you."

I was so furious, my whole body was juddering with the need to punch him. "I can take care of her myself. Don't blackmail me."

"Take care of her?" He repeated with disbelief. "With what? The next-to-nothing money you earn from writing? Honey, you have no career and with the kind of clothes you wear, n.o.body would hire you."

I didn't correct him by telling him that I did actually waitress at a coffee shop. In one sentence he made fun of my clothing and told me I was worthless. That my writing was worthless.

I didn't know if there was anything I could do. If there was some way to hurt him. I had no weapon against this monster. Except . . .

"Imagine what would happen if I went to court, Ammar," I used the same mocking tone as him. "If I told them how you forced me into marrying you. I was twelve. You were an adult. Guess who'd get the blame."

His nails dug into my hands painfully and I had to quickly look over to Zayn's table to ensure he wasn't looking. He wasn't. I didn't want his pity.

"Do you really think you're in the position to threaten me? Everyone knows how courts in Pakistan work. n.o.body would believe you without proof and I would have a strong case with an even stronger and influential lawyer." He snickered.

Zayn could help me.

"I'll have a strong lawyer, Ammar, don't worry. There's someone I know who's daddy is richer than yours. Who is more powerful than you."

I swear it's like the monster inside of him took over. I saw his eyes darkening like clouds on a stormy night.

"We're leaving," he declared, slapping a wad of cash on the table.

He got up and hauled me up by gripping my wrist tightly. He was 6'2—only a few inches short of Zayn—and had about a hundred pounds of weight over me. I couldn't stop him if he tried to hurt me. But I had to pretend to be fine in front of all these people. I smiled and put my hand over his as if in affection even though from the inside, I thought I would burst into flames.

I grabbed my handbag and slipped it over my shoulder, not looking in the direction where I knew Zayn's eyes were on us. I could feel them like I could feel the tight grip of Ammar's hand on my wrist. It would surely bruise, but right now I wasn't concerned with meager injuries. From the look of it, Ammar could do anything. I could tolerate everything but I would never ever endure physical violence.

I would never let a man raise a hand against me. Never.

So, I decided, right then and there, that I would tell everything to Zayn.

I just didn't know at that time what was awaiting me. I didn't know that what I was about to find out would change my life forever.