Faking Love

CHAPTER 7

NEHA

I think I am not processing. My body is not functioning. I am all but fine.

"Same," he said back, sighing.

My legs went weak, making me fall back on the bed. Ilyas turned to me, eyes narrowing a bit.

"Are you alright? Do you want water?" he asked, studying me.

Finding no words to utter, I just nodded. He went outside for a few seconds, returning back with a glass and a water bottle in his gigantic hands. He poured the glass halfway then handed me.

"Don't take her seriously," he muttered. "She is just way too excited about seeing you. She doesn't get a lot of girls here just how she wants them."

I drowned the water, thankful for every drop of it. I returned the glass back to him. He poured some more, and held it out.

"I'm fine. Thanks," I refused, breathless.

"Drink this. You look sick." He thrusted the glass further to me, and I had no option than to gulp it down. I relaxed further. His bed was so comfortable.

He sat down beside me. "Forget what just happened." I am guessing this is his way of apology. "You're just my PA and nothing else."

I jumped to my feet, making him frown. "If that's so, then a line has to be drawn between a boss and the people working for him."

My words took a bit to sink into his head. "Not here." He shook his head, looking right into my eyes. "Not in my apartment. Right now you're just Neha."

As puzzling as it might sound, the thought of marrying him wasn't that bad after all. My family had long forgotten me, so that meant it wasn't quite necessary to ask them about agreeing to Ilyas being my husband. They didn't want me, and sometimes I consoled myself by this; 'they didn't want me, that's why you ran away.'

Well, not exactly run, but my elder brother helped me get settled here in America. He actually knew Noor, and asked her if she would be willing to have a roommate. Noor had no objections whatsoever. She welcomed me warmly a year ago, and it just took me a few days to love her like my own sister.

"Neha? Are you listening?"

No, I wasn't. "Yeah? What were you saying?"

He got up and began to walk outside. I assumed I was to follow him so I followed pursuit.

"Food? Do you like Mac and cheese?" He glanced over his shoulder just when I nodded in delight. I loved mac and cheese. "Woah, if I were to make you smile, I'd just have to mention food?" he joked, something I thought he never does.

"Pizza is the way to my heart," I grinned, although he couldn't see because his back was to me.

"Noted."

His kitchen was just wow. White marble tiles with a black breakfast bar. Everything was perfectly clean, not even a hint of dirt anywhere. I noticed he really had a thing for marble, and the colours black and white. He was such a guy.

"Make yourself home." He began preparing the food, gathering the ingredients from place to place.

Then it hit me.

This was terribly wrong. Utterly insane to sit like this with a man who wasn't even my husband. If I sat on this stool which awaited for me, this really would've been crossing limits, while I already had crossed so many when I stepped into this building. I was here to work, not to enjoy a good cup of tea with my boss of all people.

I jerked back, knocking a decoration piece off the table. His head whipped to me. For a second, I couldn't look away from his piercing gaze.

"Neha? What's wrong?" He dumped the milk carton on the counter, and worriedly strode towards me.

"I—I—you—I am sorry," I choked, and ran towards the elevator. This day had been a full on rollercoaster, and the constant release of adrenaline had my muscles aching all over.

"Hey! What happened! I apologise if it's my mother who has scared you," he called out, jogging after me.

I pressed the button to the ground floor, but he halted my escape by slamming his hands against the doors, preventing my escape.

"Tell me. Now," he demanded. "I swear if this is about the marriage, then nobody will force you. I don't want to get married right now anyway."

He didn't get it. And did I really? I had just met this man like not more than five minutes ago, and I wanted to get married to him. Ugh! Why did her Mom had to ingrain this thought in my head! Ilyas is far from a religious person, or so what I think.

"You don't want to get married to me?" I whispered. Tears threatened to spill, but I swallowed and willed them not to.

His eyes widened. "What? Neha, we just met today."

"I know."

He dropped his head. Then raised it, and I felt him stare right through me. "It's been a long day. I'll have my driver drop you off at your house. Come tomorrow with a clear head."

He just. . . Did he just indirectly refuse to me? If I could give a man like him a try, why couldn't he? I knew it was stupid agree to marry someone just the day I met, but I hadn't exactly said yes; or no. But him? He just straight out refused me.

I forced a smile to my face. He knew it had hurt me, yet he decided to just idiotically stare at me with thise beautiful eyes of his.

"Allah Hafiz," I said first. We exchanged goodbyes, and then I was going away from him.

I wasn't going to let his car drive me back home. I didn't need or want his help at all. I could find myself a decent job and husband who wouldn't be as arrogant and rude as him.

"Neha. . ." The receptionist trailed off when she noticed I didn't look at her. A man stood at the doors, but I glared at him.

"Tell him I don't need his stupid services," I snapped and stepped into the warmth of the day, walking on my feet, far away from him.