TRAPPED IN THE MARRIAGE GAME

CHAPTER SIX

The ride back home from the engagement was quiet. My fingers played nervously with the edge of my dress as I stared out the window. Laughter from the party still echoed in my head .congratulations, smiles, camera flashes but none of it felt real.

I kept glancing at Zayd, seated next to me, his face unreadable. My mind, though, was spiraling. Tonight was supposed to be.... the first night. That’s what people expected, right? A wedding night. My heart pounded faster.

I knew nothing.......nothing about what was expected, what to do, what it meant. The fear crept in slowly, tightening my chest. I didn’t even know him. How was I supposed to give myself to a stranger?

When we arrived, the housekeeper greeted us with a soft smile and lowered eyes. Zayd glanced at her briefly before turning to me. He didn't even respond to her.How rude.

“Come,” he said, “let me show you your room.”

My room? I blinked. “You mean… not our room?”

He gave a weird smile. “You’re not ready. I can see that. And I meant it when I said we’d move at your pace.”

He led me down a quiet hallway and opened a door into a soft, warmly lit room. It was beautiful.tasteful, serene, and untouched.

“This is yours. You’ll have your space, your privacy. I’m just down the hall.”

I stepped inside, stunned. A wave of relief and disbelief washed over me. I hadn’t even told him how scared I was. But..... he knew.

He paused at the door. “Good night, Zara.”

“Good night,” I whispered, still shocked.

As he closed the door behind him, I stood in the middle of the room, my heart still racing but for a different reason.

I sat at the edge of the bed, still in my engagement dress, fingers gripping the fabric tightly. The room was quiet, but my thoughts were loud.

I had been prepped for this night. Aunties, cousins, even my mother .....whispers and warnings, shy smiles and awkward advice. Everyone had assumed this was the night. I had braced myself. I had feared it and anticipated it at the same time.

And now… nothing?

Why didn’t he touch me? Not even a kiss, not a brush of the hand. He hadn’t even lingered when he said good night. Just a respectful nod, a closed door, and silence.

A strange ache bloomed in my chest. Why did he marry me if he didn’t even like me?

My thoughts spiraled. Was this pity? Duty? Strategy?*My mind turned to that brief glint in his eyes earlier,something calculated. Was I just a piece on his chessboard?

I looked around the room. Beautiful, comfortable, but distant. Like a guest room in a stranger’s home.

But ...of course it'll be ...I just got here afterall

***********

The sun filtered through the curtains gently, but the knot in my chest was anything but soft. I hadn’t slept much. My body had been still, but my mind ran laps through confusion, insecurity, and doubt.

A soft knock interrupted my spiral.

Zayd.

He entered, dressed neatly, holding a folder in one hand and a calm expression on his face. “Good morning,” he said. “Can we talk?”

I nodded, straightening. He handed me the folder and sat across from me.

“I want to remind you of our agreement,” he began, voice even. “Six months. After that, you’re free to walk away if this isn’t what you want. No drama. No damage to your reputation. But I need a few things in writing for your protection, and mine.”

I opened the folder. A contract, With conditions.

“We live as husband and wife....publicly,” he explained. “That means when we have guests or family staying over, we share a room. No exceptions.”

I nodded slowly.

“But privately.....I won’t touch even if you want me to. What happens between us stays between us. Our families must never know about the agreement. They believe this is a real marriage in every sense.”

My eyes skimmed the lines. There were rules ,boundaries. Chores. Schedules. Even a section about social appearances and expected joint events.

I swallowed. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“I have to,” he replied. “There’s a lot at stake for both of us.”

But then, quietly, a thought crept in.

*Wasn’t I attractive enough for him to even try?*

Why wasn’t he interested? Why did he treat this like a deal?

I mean ...I also ain't interested...but at least I should enjoy my stay with him .....but instead this is turning out to be like the stories I read in novels .....

I smiled weakly and signed the paper.

Atleast I had my freedom ...and this means I can firstly give myself to the first man I'll ever love

Thinking of this ...does he have someone he loves ,maybe that Is why he is acting this way .

*Later that evening*

I wasn’t trying to snoop. I swear I wasn’t.

But something about this house... about him... kept gnawing at me. Like I was missing pieces of a puzzle everyone else had solved. The contract this morning had left me curious .pages of rules, boundaries, and instructions like I was walking into a business merger instead of a marriage. My head was pounding with thoughts I couldn’t name.

I found myself standing at the door of Zayd’s study. It was quiet. The door was slightly open. No sound, no footsteps. He wasn’t in.

I walked in slowly.

The air smelled like old books and expensive cologne. His desk was tidy,of course it was. Everything about Zayd was... precise. Controlled.

Then I saw it. A slim file under a book on economics. My fingers hovered. Don’t look, I told myself. But I was already reaching. Already opening.

Inside was a passport. I didn’t mean to read it but my eyes caught the date.

*Zayd el-amin king*

*DOB: April 6, 1998*

1998?

My heart skipped. I counted, quickly. He was *twenty-seven*.

Not twenty-two.

I froze.

He was eight years older than me.

My hands started to tremble. My stomach twisted into knots.

I married a man I barely knew... and even the age they told me was a lie?

I shut the passport gently and rushed out, trying to steady my breathing. I didn’t even know how I made it to my room, but the moment I heard the front door click later that night, I went straight to him.

He looked surprised as I walked into the living room, passport in hand.

“You lied to me,” I said, holding it up. “You’re twenty-seven.”

His face didn’t flicker.

“That’s a fake,” he said smoothly. “An old copy. The date was entered wrong, and I never fixed it. My actual records are in order.”

I stared at him, my chest tight. “Zayd… that’s not something you just mess up.”

“It was an error, Zara,” he said calmly. “Nothing more. You think I’d hide something so small from you on purpose?”

His eyes met mine, steady and unreadable. I wanted to believe him.

I needed to believe him.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Maybe I overreacted.”

He gave a small nod. “You’re overwhelmed. It’s normal.”

But even as I turned away, something in me stayed uneasy.

He didn't question me.He didn't question how found out, what I was looking for in his study ,where I found it...he didn't..he just looked at me calmly and that made me feel guilty somehow because I know I shouldn't have snooped but if I hadn't how would I have found that out ?