Billionaires Broken Wife | COMPLETED

Chapter 03

 A N T O N I A P O V 

I am in my FOT (Foundation of Technology) class, listening to Mr. Collins. Let me tell you; this guy is the funniest person I have ever had the hilarity of meeting. He isn't like one of those boring teachers; he makes his lessons fun and informative. We are like buddies, even though he is like 50 or something.

Throughout the class, I heard my phone go off. I looked at the caller ID. It was my cousin, so I raised my hand because I didn't want to be rude.

"Yes? Antonia?" Mr. Collins asked, stopping in the middle of his lecture.

"Can I take this call? It's imperative," I requested since he can get a little grumpy when someone disrupts his class, which I understand.

"Yes, you may. Thank you for asking," Mr. Collins grinned at me.

I returned a smile as I got up; I walked out of the class, phone in hand.

'Assalamu'alaikum?' I answered.

'Antonia! You need to come quickly. It's a grandma!' She screamed out.

'What happened to her? Is she okay?' I demanded worriedly.

My grandmother suffers from Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy. Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy or another way of knowing HCM is connected with the thickening of the heart muscle, most commonly at the septum between the ventricles, below the aortic valve. It's basically when the heart muscle becomes abnormally thick.

She had HCM since she was a young adult. Alhamdulillah, she is still alive. I am not surprised at all about the fact that she didn't pass away. Death is in Allah's (SWAT) hand. He decides who gets to live and who dies. Yet, I everlastingly make dua for her.

'I don't know. Grandma said she wants to talk to you!' my cousin, Robia, explained in a rush.

'I am coming,' I said with finality, not wanting to keep my grandmother wait.

'Okay, then, see you soon. Allah Hafiz.'

'Allah Hafiz,' I dismissed.

Turning off the phone, I ran to the class to grab my bag.

"Everything okay, Antonia?" He questioned as he stopped me from packing.

"No. It's my grandma; She isn't feeling okay. I need to go. Can you please excuse me?" I asked hurriedly.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead," Mr. Collins stated. Turning around, I ran up to Kathy.

"Can I borrow your car. I will tell you later, I promise," I begged her.

"Yeah sure," she handed me her car's keys, looking at me worriedly.

"Thanks. I owe you for this one," I quickly hugged Kathy. Rushing out the classroom door, I went to the parking lot. You will not believe who I saw. I saw that Brute. That Rascal smirked at me; I rolled my eyes at him.

Not today, buddy. Not today. I'm not going to smack you today. But I will do it. Just not today. I'm busy. I promised myself.

Walking up to the car, I sat on the driver's seat. As I was driving through the parking lot, I glanced at the car's mirror. It's a habit of mine to check my surrounding areas. That Jerk was following me.

What ya' know?

I drove faster, getting creeped out by the fact that he is following me. Who knows he could be after me for yelling at him over a coffee. Whats why mom always told me not to argue with strangers. Did I ever listen? No! Stubborn me!

Ya Allah, help me! Save me from this creep.

Pretty soon, I was at the house. Slamming the car door open, I immediately shut it. Without losing any time, I ran to the house, intending to get in as quickly as possible. I mean come one, we are talking about my precious grandmother.

I just burst through the white open door. I maneuvered my way through the halls, dining room, the furniture, and to the living room only to see Grandma fine. She is laughing with my cousin, having a good time.

Wow! And here I am, stressing about her health. What a lovely little old woman?

"You have got to be kidding me. Is this a joke??" I demanded. I unquestionably did not find this hilarious. Her health was on the line.

"Umm, it was grandma's idea, not mine," Meriem shrugger, her hands in the air.

"So, what is it that you wanted to tell me. You brought me from the middle of my class?" I asked grandma, narrowing my eyes at her. This woman can sometimes be a little drama Queen.

"My child, you have grown so big. It just feels like yesterday, I held you in my hand," she explained as my cousin helped her to sit up, "Thank you. Now it's time for you to get married. And I know the perfect boy for you! He is very handsome, plus you know him too. He is the CEO of his own company. He will make you happy for the rest of your life, so what do you say?"

"Whoa! Whoa! Slow down there, old women. I'm still young. I'm at University. It's only my first year. How can I get married?" I walked up to her, taking a seat next to her.

"You see, this boy says he loves you so that he can wait for you all his life," She grabbed my hand and gave it a little squeeze. I kissed her on the cheek and on her hands too.

"Wha-Who is this guy that we are talking about?" I demanded, placing one hand on my hip and raising my eyebrows.

I was genuinely curious. Who is this person that is so in love with me? In my entire life, no man came up to me and told me I was pretty; I didn't have time for dating or any other unnecessary events in my life. I already have too much going on.

I loved one man who will forever be in my heart, no matter what. He was my first love and my last. Nevertheless, Allah didn't want that. I haven't seen him since the day he left me with a fragmented and torn heart.

"Don't turn around right now, but turn around now," Meriem smirked.

I rolled my eyes at her. Meet our other drama, Queen. Lord knows, how can these two be such a dramatic person.

Without waiting any longer, I twisted around to see this man, the man who claimed to love me. It makes me laugh to hear that.

Looking at the person, my mouth dropped open to the ground. You've got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell am I going to marry this person. Who does he think he is?

"What in the world are you doing here!" I shouted at the Jerk from the University, who was standing behind me. The one who ruined my beautiful outfit.

"Well, I came here to see my fiancé," he took a couple of steps toward us.

"Wha- Wait, hold up. You mean, are you saying that you came here to you see me?" I slowly questioned, trying to process this whole incident.

Let's be honest; Desi family can be pretty twisted with drama. It takes billions of years to unite the twist.

"That's a right beta," Baba came down the stairs, following by the rest of my family. How did they come here? I know Khalid bro is supposed to be at work right now. That little job thief!

"I am not going to marry a person that I don't know," I crossed my arms childishly over my chest. Who knows, this man could be a serial killer. No way am I going to make such a vast choice.

"You see, that's where you're mistaken, my little sister. You do know him," Khalid smirked, setting his hand on Jerk's shoulder.

"What is with you all smirking. No, I do not know him," I said stubbornly. I will not budge.

"Assalamu'alaikum, Antonia," I overheard someone else say.

I spin my head around to see who the person was. Surprise! That's one way to put it.

It was Auntie Rehana, my high school best friend's mother, the best friend that left me. Then where is he if his mother is here? Where is Walid? He has to be here with her. She can't just visit us without him.

Just by thinking about him makes my heart hammered faster than a bolt of lightning. What if he is here? I will get to see him after a very long time.

Is he still the same?

Is he still my Walid?

He should be here. He should be!

Exactly then, everything started to come back to me. Every single detail into why this man was here. Why suddenly my grandmother wants me to get married so immediately; why this man followed me from University to my home.

My eyes expanded.

No freaking way.

I refuse to accept that Jerk is him. I decided to consult about that later. I ran to Auntie and held her tight. She was like, no scratch that, she was my second mother. I embraced her as if my life depended on it, afraid to let her go again.

"I missed you so much," I whispered, tears in my eyes. After so many years, I finally see Auntie once again. Oh, the joy!

"I missed you too. I would think of you every day," she responded. When I pulled away, I saw the tears in her eyes, as well. I yearned for our old times when I would regularly visit her at a young age and taste the yummy sweets that she made. Missed the moments when she did my hair and was my shoulder to cry one.

I turned around and looked at him, Walid, aka Jerk. Those green eyes, those were his eyes. I looked carefully at the boy in front of me, the boy who left me.

It was him.

His smile was the same.

The shin in the eyes was still there. And the dimple on his right side of the face.

A smile made its way onto my face, memorizing all the good times we had, the memories we made together. All the time when we went to the ice cream shop to treat each other when we did well in exams or tests. How we always had each other back when the need for running from our mother or fathers.

I rushed to him, embracing him securely. He had changed a lot; for one, he is a lot taller than me. I assume he is like 6 feet while I am like 5'3. He is way taller than me. He is handsome; I will give you that.

He picked me up and spun me around.

We both laughed, enjoying the moment.

Suddenly, reality came crashing back to me. I pulled back from Walid, frowning, upon remembering what happened. I shoved him back with all my strength, letting him stumble back.

He had left me.

And I hugged him.

Ya Rabb, what am I doing?

Ya Rabb, Astaghfirullah! Forgive me for touching a non-mahram. A man who isn't my brother, nor my father, and not my husband. What was I thinking?

I remember the lesson that taught me. It was a Hadith that I learned in the past.

'It was narrated that Ma'qil ibn Yassaar said: the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: "For one of you to be stabbed in the head with an iron needle is better for him than that he should touch a woman who is not permissible for him.'

Ya Rabb, please forgive me. I let the shaitan get me; I let him win again.

How can I suddenly hug him?

After everything, he did it to me. How?

I glared at him. He stared at me, puzzled as to why I pulled away. Swiftly, with a burst of confidence, I walked back. Before I knew what was happening, my arm had made up a mind of its own, and it went up, slapping him hard. His face turned to the right, and there was a fantastic handprint on his left cheek.