Billionaires Broken Wife | COMPLETED

Chapter 04

 A N T O N I A P O V

"Antonia!" Mom gasped out in shock. 

Heck, I was a little astonished myself. I didn't know what came over me. Maybe it was me wanting revenge. But my parents never taught me to take revenge. They taught me to love people and give them another chance. Was giving him another opportunity, worth it?

She took a couple of steps toward me, probably to smack me right across the face, but Baba stopped her. He recognized this fight was only between Walid and me. We had to solve this on our own as grown-ups. But solve what? There is nothing left between us. He freaking left me. Who the hell does that? Leave their lover right after they confess their true feelings for them? Who does?

He does.

He is full of surprises. He was back in High School; he still is.

Get him for hurting you, Antonia! Get him! Release your anger out on him. Do it!

I wrathfully grabbed Walid by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer toward me. "You jerk!" I began to vociferate pretty loudly. All I saw was red everywhere. Everything I look at angered me right now. I need to release this.

"Where were you all these years? Why did you leave me? Why? Why did you have to leave after I told you that I loved you? What! Wasn't I pretty enough? Was I not good enough for you? Why do you suddenly want to marry me now?"

Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I kept hitting his chest, even though I knew that he couldn't feel anything. My hands were hurting from punching him hard. He needs to know how much I have suffered because of him.

"You knew I was having a hard time!" I continued to scream at him. "Where was the Walid that promised me that he will always be there for me? Where was he, huh? Why did he suddenly decide to come back now?"

"Enough, Antonia! Please!" Walid softly shouted, grabbing my hands to try to calm me down. It only infuriates me even more. I had enough of this.

"NO! NO!" I shouted, pushing his hands off me. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"Enough is enough!" Bro intervened, trying to calm this situation.

"I don't want to marry him!" I screamed out loud. I would regret this later, big time!

"What?" My mother responded, clearly surprised by my decision, "why? I thought you love him?"

"Corrections, Ami. I loved him. Past. How do I know that he isn't going to leave me again as he did before?" I questioned, whipping my eyes.

"I promise I'll never leave you again, Antonia. Please." Walid begged, trying to touch my hand. I moved away from him. Pain flashed before his eyes; I didn't care right now. He hurt me the most.

"There you go again! Didn't you say that before? Let me remember. Oh yeah! You told me the same thing in 10th grade!" I sarcastically stated.

"Antonia, could you please just think about it?" Mom pleaded with me. Regardless of what this man did to me, my mother still wanted me to marry him — a typical desi mother.

"I already thought of it. I am sorry, but look for someone else," I said, reading to walk out of the room. I can't handle being in the same place as him. My head was hurting from all the screaming and yelling. A migraine was about to come; I need my pills.

Walid grabbed me by my wrist, pulling me towards him. He had a dark, stormy look in his eye, which frightened me. I had never seen him that angry in my life.

"You will not marry someone else as long as I live," he hissed darkly. "You will marry me."

"I will marry whomever I want to!" I yelled, wiggle my hand to get out of this iron grasp. Why can't he keep his hands to himself?

"We'll see about that!" he said, his grip tightening on my wrist. I am sure it is purple now.

"Walid, let me go! You're hurting me!" I whimpered, trying to break free.

"Never say that. I will never let you go again," He promised. It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

"Bro, let her go! You're hurting her!" Bro snapped, pushing him away from me, “best friend or not, don’t you ever touch my sister like that! I’ll bury you alive. That’s a promise” 

 Bro enveloped his arm around my shoulder. I was happy to see my brother standing there to protect me. I love my brother! 

"LET ME GO!" I yelled again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks once again. When he noticed the tears, his eyes began to soften.

"Antonia I am-"

"Forget it!" I stopped him. "You guys want me to marry him- a guy that can hurt me? I can't believe you guys! And you!" I vexatiously pointed at Walid. "You're not the Walid I used to know! The Walid I know is nice and sweet. He would never harm me like this!"

I turned around and ran out of the house, ignoring the shouts of my family behind me. I hopped into Kathy's car and drove to University, calling up Kathy and informing her of my arrival.

I didn't know what to do right now. Should I marry him? Or should I not? I can't have my heart broken again. There is no trust that I can give him. He broke it, just like my heart. He needs to understand, and he can't pop back into my life and think everything is alright that he can't only marry me. My decision matters too.

When I saw her coming, I stepped out of the car and hugged her tightly, weeping into her shoulder. I looked at her and noticed that the rest of my friends had come to see what was wrong.

Great! Now I have to tell them. I don't want to talk about this right now.

"Hey! Hey! What happened?" Cruz asked, rushing towards me; rubbing her hand on my back.

"Walid is back. He wants to marry me!" I sobbed.

"That bastard!" Chris exclaimed, "Why the hell is he back?"

"What happened to your wrist, Antonia?" Gabby asked, examining the red marks from when Walid had grabbed me.

"Nothing," I lied. Forgive me, my Lord, for lying. I know if I told my friends the truth, they would go after him. I didn't want anything else to happen right now. Today has been a miserable and horrible day. My happy day turned into a sour one.

"You're lying," Malik declared, pointed at me.

Shut up, you i***t! 

He always finds a way to see if I am telling the truth.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Chris demanded, clenching his fist. "I'll kill that bastard!"

"No, Chris, don't!" I protested, "no point in doing it! He is not the same Walid. He is not my Walid anymore. He changed."

"Oh, honey," Kathy grinned sadly. "It's gonna be okay."

"Can I stay at your house?" I asked. I didn't feel like going home right now. Especially after knowing he will be there. Right now, I wish I could turn into Randy Orton and RKO him to the floor. That will teach him.

"Of course. Why don't we have a sleepover? Just us, girls?" She recommended.

"Yeah, that would be great," I admitted, "I am going to call my mom and let her know."

"Okay. You go do that.".

Taking out my phone, I dialed my mom's number. Thankfully, she picked up on the first ring.

'Assalam Walaikum.'

'Waalaikumsalam, Antonia! Where are you?' She exclaimed, clearly worried. Mothers never stop worrying. It's like an addiction to them.

'I am with the girls. Can I stay at Kathy's house for a bit? I want to get everything out of my head first,' I quickly added the last part.

'Yes, you can," mom replied.

'Okay. Alla-'

'Wait a sec!' she stopped me before I could hang up. I waited for a few seconds, hearing faint voices in the background.

'Mom?' I called out.

'Hello,' I heard the sound of a deep, all-too-familiar voice.

My heart froze hearing his voice. I recognized that voice all too well. I tightly squeezed my eyes, controlling the tears that were beginning to come out. I stepped away from my friends, just so they don't see me crying; I need to talk to him privately, without them threatening him through the phone.

'Hello, Antonia. I know you're there,' Walid mumbled. 'I am sorry, okay? I just-I don't know what came over me. Please, talk to me, Buttercup.'

Buttercup. That nickname. It uses to make me blush like crazy, causing my stomach to do flip and weird things. Yet now it sounds vexatious when he called me that. The nerve of this man! After everything, he dares to call me that pathetic name.

Before I could even consider answering him, I hung up the phone. I didn't want to talk to him right now. I need my mind off him. I quickly wiped my eyes with my dress sleeves.

With a fake smile on, I walked up to them, "so let's do this."

"Girl, wipe that fake smile off. We know you better than anyone. Whom are you trying to fool? Just forget about that douche bag and be happy. We are about to have a girl night. Can't spend the night, if one of our girls is down," Cruz cheered in a girly voice, which hurt my ears. Thank the Lord; she doesn't sound like this in real life.

I was aware of the fact; I can not fake everything being alright. Cruz is right. I shouldn't be stressing about this. I must forget about him just like he did back then.

With a sigh, I bid goodbye to the boys and followed Gabby, Cruz, and Kathy to the car. We entered the vehicle rapidly. Kathy chose to drive us. It was after all her vehicle. She never lets anyone touch her baby. I am surprised to see her give it to me.

When we arrived at Kathy's house, I kindly greeted her mother, then followed her upstairs into her room. Her room had a light blue, with a white window blind — a marble table to hold an iMac Pro. The place itself is beautiful.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Kathy requested the moment the four of us were inside.

"Why don't we do our homework first? Then we can all watch a movie and GO CRAZY!" Gabby said enthusiastically.

"We can do that." Kathy laughed in agreement.

After we did our homework together, we decided to watch a movie. It was my turn to choose a movie, so I picked one of my personal favorites, Fast and Furious 7. Kathy put some popcorn in the microwave and grabbed some soda since it was universally known that you couldn't watch a good movie without a little junk food.

The movie was so glum, but some parts of it were funny. We couldn't stop laughing. I missed Paul Walker. My heart broke as soon as I heard that he passed away.

A few minutes into the movie, I received a call on my phone. I picked it up after discovering that it's Baba.

Oh boy!

I hit the home button; It read 8 PM.

Darn! I am late. He is going to be angry.

'Assalam Alaikum,' My voice shook.

'Young lady, you need to come home this instant!' Baba ordered, his tone rough.

'Yes, Baba, but may I know why?' I asked, keeping my tone polite. I know why, but I just wanted to ask. Don't ask me why. I just signed my own death wish.

'We are going to talk about something important. Your mother and I want you to be here.' He stated simply.

Oh, thank the Lord! He didn't mention the part why I am late.

'Yes, Baba,' I replied.

He hung up the phone. Based on the way he spoke to me, I knew without a doubt; he was fuming with rage. I wanted to stay longer at Kathy's, but he will get even angrier if I didn't listen to him and came home right away.

I looked over at the girls, giving them an apologetic smile. "Sorry, guys, I gotta go. That was Baba, and he sounds furious." I told them.

"Let's go drop her off so we can see who this lucky person is that stole our dear little friend's heart in high school and still has it," Gabby giggled, pinching my cheek. I smacked her hand away and gave her a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, let's go!" Cruz exclaimed.

Awesome!

"Guys! You-"

"Don't even say anything. We will go and see it." Kathy cut me off and then added, "and give him a piece of our mind!"

"He is not probably in my house," I tried to explain to them.

"We will see," Kathy winked.

❖ ❖ ❖

I am at my house right now; the tension is very high. Everyone is here, even Walid. Of course, he would be here. He has not done enough damage to my family and me.

But there is still a little bit of sympathy inside of me for him. Maybe there was a reason for him leaving me. I don't dare to look at him. I am afraid of forgiving him. I do still love him, yet I can't forgive him for what he did.

The girls left because Baba told them to go before they could've even come inside. Strange to see him do that. Usually, he welcomes them with an open arm and happy to see them. He takes them as if they are his girl.

Something terrible is going to happen. I can feel it.

Ya, Allah! Save me from this and protect me. Ameen!

I stood next to my mom's chair, which is the safest chair, as always. When your Baba is not happy with you, then go to your mom for protection. Vise Versa. The role switches every time.

At first, Baba hesitated to say what was on his mind. He then finally released a sigh, speaking the awful words I have ever heard from him. Heck, I was very shocked to hear this from him. Routinely, he lets me decide everything in my life. However, he took this step upon me without talking to me about it.

"Antonia, we have finally decided that you will marry Walid. That's final!"

I looked at him in shock, trying to make some words come out of my mouth, yet none came. When Baba says "final," that meant he wasn't going to argue anymore. Also, his decision stays the same.

"I am not going to marry him!" I cried out.

"You will, and that's final!" He yelled at me. I rubbed my hand over my face multiple times in frustration. He can not do this to me. How can he even think about this? How can you, Baba?

"You can't make me! It's haram to marry someone by force in Islam!" I declared. He won't go against the rule of Islam. The punishment of Allah is frightful. You can go to Jahannam for breaking the rules of Allah.

"I know that, but you will, Antonia. I will not force you. You will come by yourself." His tone was a bit softer this time.

"I am not going to marry him, and that's final!" I raised my voice.

The next thing I knew, his hand had collided with my cheek, sending a sharp pain through me. My eyes widened in shock as I stared at my father, not expecting him to do that to me.

Baba had never slapped me before; never in my life.

"Go to your room!" He ordered, looking away from me.

❖ ❖ ❖

I woke up early in the morning to make wudu and prayed Fajr, the dawn prayer. Afterward, I retrieved a copy of the Quran in order to read a few short Ayat before going back to sleep again.

After last night, I was exhausted. My brain was on fry with all these dramas. Physically and emotionally, I am done. There wasn't anything left for me to do. Besides, I didn't feel like going downstairs to eat. Typically I would go downstairs right after Fajr prayer to help mom. Going downstairs would mean talking to mom, and that is one thing I do not want to do. Staying in my room is the best possible thing to do

A few hours later, I was awoken by the sound of constant knocking on my door. I sleepily got up from my bed in time to see my mother standing in the doorway, smiling at me with a cup of warm milk on her hand.

"Assalamu'alaikum, honey. How are you feeling? I bought warm milk for you. Your favorite," She showed me the glass of milk.

Not wanting to talk to her, I averted my gaze from hers and did not utter a reply. Mom never takes this as disrespectful. At a very young age, when things like this happened, mom would leave me alone. Later on, Baba and I always made it up. Either it's him taking me out to the ice cream shop as an apology or me make him cookies with the help of my mom, to apologize. We can never stay angry at each other.

This time it's different. I don't know if we are ever going to be the same as the old time. Jocking or laughing together. This is for a different reason. Different!

She sighed and walked out of the room, only to have my brother came inside to take a seat beside me on the bed.

Please leave me alone!

"Hey. How are you feeling?" He asked. I once again looked away.

I want to be alone for Allah's sake!

"You can't stay like that forever, you know," he chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood. "You do know that Baba didn't mean to do that, right? He was just angry. He did it out of anger. He loves you, and it's killing him to see you like that."

I closed my eyes and just blocked him out. My brother was indeed not helping the situation right now. Baba had hit me! Did he was expecting me just to forgive him and move on? What was wrong with him?

I shouldn't have raised my voice at him. I am at fault too. Apart from this, it's him also. Oh, who am I kidding? We both are at fault. Especially me. He is my Baba! There is no reason for me to yell at him. I could have talked to him about this matter in a soft tone. I probably hurt his feeling. Oh, man! I feel so guilty.

Forgive me, Ya Rab!

I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. There was a big handprint on my cheek, and my skin had distorted into a purple and reddish color. I touched it but flinched because of the terrible pain. I sighed, beginning to wash my face with cold water to avoid making it hurt more. I then grabbed my bag from my room and proceeded to work on my science project, not in the mood to go downstairs for breakfast.

Fudge breakfast!

K H A L I D' S P O V

This is not good.

I hated to see my little sister like that. After Mom went to check on her, she came back and said Antonia didn't talk at all. I decided to check on Antonia myself, and sure enough, she didn't speak to me either.

As an older brother, I feel like a horrible person. My job was to protect my sister from getting her heartbroken and protect her from boys. I did the exact opposite.

As I came downstairs, I looked at my parents.

"What did she say?" Mom asked, eager to know how her daughter is doing.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. She wouldn't even look at me."

"My poor baby. Why did I do that? How does her face look like?" questioned Baba.

"Pretty bad," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"I am going to go to. Did you make breakfast for her, Bro?" He asked me.

"Yes," I answered.

"I am going to go and give it to her," he said, proceeding up the stairs.

I looked at my mom and saw that she was sobbing. I went to her and hugged her.

"It is going to be okay, I promise," I assured her, although I wasn't even sure of the answer myself.

A N T O N I A P O V

I was in the middle of drawing a figure of the human body parts when I heard my door creak open. I knew it was Baba, but I didn't bother to look up. I was not in the mood to talk to him right now; I just wanted to be by myself. Alone.

"That's a beautiful drawing, Antonia," I heard him say. He always liked my drawings. As a young child, I would daily draw for Baba. He would compliment my art and put them on a frame in his office.

"Thank you," I replied, not looking at him.

He sighed. "Antonia I am-"

"Baba, don't apologize," I butted him off. "You're my parent. You did that out of anger, and you weren't thinking properly. I yelled at you too. I am sorry. Don't worry; I am not mad at you." I gave him a sad smile.

No matter what, I can never be mad at Baba. He has always been there for me when time gets tough, and he is my role model. Even if I try to force myself to hate him or be angry at him, my heart and mind won't let me. In the end, I feel guilty for being mean or rude to him.

That's what every kid should do. You shouldn't yell at your parents, even when they are wrong. In a soft voice, explain to them. If they don't understand it, then drop it. You tried your best. There is no point in arguing with them. It's not going to get you anywhere.

"You have every right to be furious at me," he argued back.

"I am not, Baba," I said as I continued to draw.

He pulled me toward his lap, suddenly. He stopped doing that when I was 12. Back then, it started to get a little awkward when he did that. I was getting older, and sitting on Baba's lap was uncomfortable.

"What are you doing, Baba?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"What? I cannot carry my daughter. So am I forgiven?" He asked, with hope in his eyes.

"Like I told you-"

"No, you have to forgive me," He hugged me tightly.

"Baba, let me go. I can't breathe. You're squishing me!" I gasped out, trying to breathe.

"Not until you forgive me," he laughed, hugging me tighter.

"Okay, okay. You're forgiven," I wasn't able to be absurd at him anymore.

I let out a giggle at his childish behavior. Baba might be one of the most robust and scariest guys, but on the inside, he is soft as a pillow. He has a good heart, and I don't understand why people are frightened of him.

"I love you, honey. Please do forgive me," he kissed my cheek and smiled sadly at me.

"I love you to Baba. Stop saying sorry." I kissed both of his cheeks and wrapped my arms around his neck to give him a tight hug.

"Would you look at that? Daughter and father are back together!" I heard my mom say as she and my brother entered the room. She cracked a smile at me.

"Mom and Bro, I would like to apologize for my behavior in the morning. I am very sorry." I said to them, looking down in shame.

"Beta, you don't have to apologize. I know how you felt, and I understand," she stroked my hair, kissing me on the side of my head.

"Yeah, no need for the sorry. And with that face of yours, I don't think Walid will want to marry you anymore," Bro jokes.

"Shut up," Mom scolded him.

"Let me see your face," Baba said, and I showed him. Upon examining it, his face contorted into a guilt-stricken expression.

"Oh, sweetie. I am so sorry," he voice full of regret.

"No need for that, and if you guys think that Walid is the best guy for me, I am fine with marrying him. But on one condition," I put on my index finger.

"And what would that be?" Mom suspiciously looked at me.

"I don't want to get married first. I want bro to get married, and then I will," I crossed my hand over my chest, making sure to leave little pout at the end.

"Oh, come on! Really? Now you want to bring me into this?" Bro threw his hand up.

"I think that's a good idea," Baba agreed, "besides, you are turning into an old man. Any older and no girl will marry you."

"Not funny," grumbled Bro as we all laughed at him.

"It's time for you to get married. I am getting old. I need a helper in this house, and I think I know the perfect girl for you," Mom gushed.

"And who could that be?" Bro raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, hold on! Antonia, where's that picture I gave you?" Mom turned toward me and asked.

"What are you talking about? What picture?" Bro released a nervous chuckle.

Ha, gotcha! You little thief.

"Ummm, let me go get it. I think I put it in your closest," I smiled mischievously at my brother.

"Go get it for me, please," my mom requested, and I ran off to retrieve the picture.

I ran to their room and got the picture that I had found in Bro’s room. He put it in a book, which he said he would "read later." I would see him look at that book every night before going to sleep. He wouldn't read the book. I once needed that book for my University and found the photo inside. Bro thought nobody would look through his University books? Well, I guess he was wrong.

I ran back to the room and handed it to Baba.

"Not bad looking," he said, looking at the picture, "MashAllah, she is beautiful. They would make a perfect couple. I've never seen her, though. Where did you get the picture?" He asked.

Mom and I knew that he was playing around. Baba did know her. We all knew her. I was her best friend and still was. She was Walid's little sister, Amina, a first-year student at University just like me.

"Ohh! One of my friends gave it to me," Mom played along.

"Umm...who are you guys talking about?" Bro stuttered, trying to look at the picture by moving his body side to side. He was so in trouble for keeping this from my parents. The only reason they were playing around with him was to teach him a lesson to not keep things from them.

"Oh, that? Just a family friend, you know, one of Ami's friend's daughter. You know," I shrugged, playing along.

"Whoa! Whoa now!" Bro exclaimed, his eyes wide in realization. "Look, Mom and Baba, I have to say something to you."

"Go ahead; all ears opened," Baba placed his hand under his chin.

"I like a g-girl. I've liked her, been liking her for a while now, but she has no idea. Despite that, her action around me tells me that she likes me too. So if I want to marry anyone, it would be her," he released a big sigh.

"Now, was it that hard?" Baba got from the bed and patted bro on the back.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking like a goofball.

"We all know you like Amina. We just wanted to hear it from your mouth. Now, my son, you need to get your women. Ask her parents for her hand. And there's also Walid that you need to ask. I have a perfect idea," Baba snapped his finger.

"Wait! Wait! I already planned it out," Bro objected.

"Wow. And how do you know if we were gonna say yes?" Mom asked.

"Well, you see. You guys have known her since she was little. You know how religious and polite she is, so I figured you would agree to it," Bro shrugged.

"Wow, bro, not bad," I smirked. "So, what's your plan? And how long have you liked her?"

"I've liked her since I was a freshman in high school," Bro admitted, blushing a little.

"Awww! Haha." I laughed at his blush.

"Shut up! I need your help, kiddo. I know what I want to do, and you're the right person who can help me out," he pinched my cheek.

"Stop calling me 'kiddo,'" I groaned, slapping his hand away from my face, "and WOW, you've liked her for that long, and you never even bothered to do anything? I guess you do need my help. No fear, your amazing and beautiful sister is here,"

"Well, thanks' but the part where you said beautiful... Ahh, I don't know about that," Bro laughed, pinching my cheek again.

Someday, I might burn those fingers off.