My Billionaire Wife

Abrar’s Point of view

I woke up after taking a short nap. Thankfully, my headache is gone. I looked at the clock, I had one hour to make dinner. It had been a long time I made tortillas. As a bachelor, I had always preferred a quick meal. I was unsure if I could make proper tortillas or not. Besides, Zoya looked so desperate to eat tortillas which made me nervous.

I walked out of my room and checked out Zoya. She was nowhere around the kitchen and her room was locked.

Maybe she was inside. I entered the kitchen and took the container of flour. It was hard for me to knead the dough after a long time. While kneading it I recalled the moment when my granny taught me to make round tortillas when I was 16 after my parent’s demise, I had to learn everything to survive. I was the guy who never lifted a glass of water to drink when my parents were alive. Life had taught me every lesson throughout the journey that I made without my parents. Twelve years were enough for me to turn myself into a completely different person.

My chin of thoughts broke as I heard the sound of the door. I looked up and saw Zoya, coming out of her room. She had big headphones on her ears and her iPad in her hand. She walked to the dining table and sat on the same chair. I guessed she was more comfortable at the dining table than the bed. She glanced at me and again focused on the screen.

I wondered what she had been doing all day on her iPad. I found her on her iPad every time I saw her. Was she trying to connect to her ex-boyfriend? Maybe they were trying to sort out the issues. She hadn’t talked about Anas since we came here. A lot of stupid things overloaded my mind as if I had nothing to do without thinking about her.

“What will you eat with the tortillas,” I asked her but she couldn’t hear me because of the headphones.

“Zoya!” I called her loudly but she didn’t hear this time too. I have two options now. Either I would cook something according to my choice or go to her and ask her. However, I knew the second option would be okay if I wanted to save myself from her scary looks.

Thinking about all this, I came near her and lightly tapped on her shoulder. She immediately looked at me and removed the headphones.

“What’s wrong?” She asked me narrowing her eyebrows.

“Nothing is wrong. And nothing wrong will happen. Was calling you”

“Ahaan!” She chuckled. “So, Abrar Zafar is creating one-liners. Not bad.” She joked.

“I’m not interested in doing that. Anyway, I wanted to ask you what you will eat with tortilla,” I asked her praying hard she wouldn’t ask for something that I didn’t have at that moment.

“Aaamm..” she mumbled. ” Don’t you have some pickle?” She asked, resting her chin on her palm.

“Pickle?” I exclaimed. I didn’t know a pizza-eaten girl would like pickles also. It was not a rich thing. I recalled the flavor of tasty pickles which my mother used to make. I was really fond of them. Just like Zoya, I used to love the combination of tangy pickles and tortillas.

“Yeah. I’m missing it too. My momma makes tasty pickles. Do you have some?” She demanded like a kid.

“Well. Sorry, but I don’t know how to make it. Besides, I’m a bachelor. I never inclined towards learning it,” I sighed.

“Oh! Then you can make whatever you want. I was missing momma. So,” she couldn’t complete her line. I felt her voice becoming heavier.

“Are you okay?” I was little unprepared for this. she didn’t look that upset yesterday when she was coming with me. She had finally spent 24 hours without her family. That must be horrible for her.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” sounding a little sad.

She must kiss her parents. All this was new for her but had no idea on how to console her and make her feel better.

Never in my life, I had come across a girl who was crying for her parents while staying at my place. Eventually, she was still unknown to me. I wasn’t aware of how many shades she had. I

Being clueless I lifted a tissue paper from the box and held it before her like a stupid.

“I’m not crying,” she lifted her face. Her eyes were turned red and somehow she controlled her tears. That’s all I could figure out.

“But you are about to,”

“I was not,” she shrugged. She was stubborn to lose an argument. I couldn’t win even if I tried a hundred times..

“Ok. I sighed. “So I’m preparing potato curry. Is that ok?” I asked.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Yeah. I can manage” she said.

I heard back to the kitchen and boiled some potatoes to make curry. It took me 45 minutes to prepare the dinner and another 10 minutes to clean the kitchen and serve it on the table. Zoya had seated there until I served the dinner.

“Let me wash my face,” she puts down her headphones and iPad at the corner of the table and went inside the washroom.

I served the dinner on her plate and waited for her, though it wasn’t necessary. I didn’t feel like to eat without her. After 10 minutes, she came outside.

She took damn 10 minutes just to wash her face! I was starving here, waiting for her. Turning around I saw 2 tubes in her hand. It’s called Face wash or something! Ugh! I don’t know.

I shoved them on the couch and came to the table.

“These cockroaches won’t let me live peacefully, Can’t you conduct pest control over here?”

“I can manage. Why would I waste money on these silly things?” I looked at her dirty face.

“You have the same excuse every time. Money! I understand you can’t afford it. But it doesn’t cost much and besides it is unhygienic” s

“But I told you I spend every single penny carefully, It is not on my budget yet” I replied. She didn’t seem to be satisfied with my answer and sat down.

“No worries. I will do it for my sake,” she said. She better do that. I couldn’t spend on her luxury lifestyle. Just in a day, she had shown me enough tantrums. I wondered how i was going to handle her in the upcoming days.

“You didn’t start eating?” She asked, picking up her plate.

“I was waiting for you, I said, tearing a piece of tortilla.

“That’s nice of you. I thought we were going to mind our own business,” she said, chewing the tortilla. why is this girl always appreciated and taunted at the same time? Which one should I take? I wondered.

“Ok. I’ll mind my own business from now on,” I ignored eye contact with her. She chuckled near my ears. Now, what was funny about it? I gazed at her.

“I was saying casually. I didn’t expect you to wait for me,” she continued eating.

“That’s called courtesy. And I told you I consider you my guest. That’s why I waited for you. If you didn’t like it, I would make sure I don’t do it again” I said in a husky voice.

It made me sick when she made fun of that. I waited for her for so long and she was taunting me instead of being nice to me.

“I don’t say that I didn’t like it, thank you,” she said with a smile. And for a month I stopped breathing, that had to be the most genuine smile.