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Turn Right: Chapter Twenty-Eight

Soph and Zayn were kissing.

It was the same as it had always been, even back in what now Soph was beginning to refer to as the Bronze Era of their marriage (bronze because although it deserved to be commemorated, it wasn’t excellent due to Soph’s constant state of confusion). The kiss had started slowly, but Zayn was picking up the pace – and as per usual, Soph was struggling to keep up, trying to find intimacy in the hectic way in which Zayn’s lips moved.

They were sitting on the bed, a small space still between them. Both were leaning forward, to keep their lips met – one of Zayn’s hands was on Soph’s neck, his thumb pressed over Soph’s jugular in such a way that she couldn’t forget it was there.

“Close the door.” Soph finally managed to mumble between kisses, out of breath. Zayn seemed to hesitate for a moment – he sighed slightly, as if frustrated at hearing such logic – but nodded, standing and closing the door gently shut.

Within seconds, he was where he had been before, hungrily kissing Soph’s lips as she struggled to keep up. He moved closer towards her, his hand stroking her arm as he moved his tongue closer to hers...

But then something changed.

At first, she didn’t notice – she briefly opened her eyes and was met with the same perspective as before, the face inches from hers, the sound and feeling of two sets of lips clouding her senses.

However, Soph couldn’t help but feel that something was... Different. As she felt a hand on her hips – she started slightly, feeling skin on skin, warm hands on the softness of her own waist, fitting snugly on the curves of her body – she felt a smile pressed against her own mouth, a smile that melted her insides and instantly had her laughing, quietly and happily.

“You know I need to go to work, right?” A deep voice mumbled against her lips, muffling the laughter. Inside her own head, Soph jerked away – something felt wrong – but no, wait, it didn’t, she felt comfortable, she felt safe. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling with the hair at the nape of his neck and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“No, you don’t.” Soph teased, her eyes opening – and just like that, Soph was watching from the outside, feeling everything but watching as if she would a film.

She was in a stripy blue and white shirt, one considerably larger than her petite frame, with a thin blue tie hanging loosely from the collar. It was open and Soph was propped up against a small table, her back to the wall, with a breathtaking view of the city in the morning – a city that wasn’t London, but one that still seemed familiar with its skyscrapers and glimmering glass in the morning sunlight.

He was standing between her legs, his hands on her waist, half-undressed. She couldn’t see his face, but instantly, Soph recognized a difference in his body, though she couldn’t place what. He was wearing smart shoes and a smart pair of black trousers that were currently open and unzipped, showing the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers. He had shaved – although Soph was watching, frozen with a strange sort of fear, she could feel the softness of his skin against hers, smell his soap.

“You are the worst influence ever.” He murmured, making Soph laugh and force his head down to meet hers again, still giggling mischievously.

Soph felt the weight of a brick knock her in the chest as she realized it wasn’t Zayn – his tattoos were missing, his chest was too clean.

“Skip work.” Soph – or, the version of herself that she was watching – whined, pouting. She smirked suggestively. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You’re killing me.” Aman told her matter-of-factly, drawing his hands reluctantly away from her waist and resting them flat on the tops of her thighs instead. “Do I get my shirt back now or do I have to work for it?”

Soph watched on, stunned into immobility, as she suddenly smiled up serenely at Aman.

“I just don’t want you to go.” She told him simply, one hand on his chest.

Soph – the real Soph – watched on, her heart hammering in her chest at the intimacy. This wasn’t real. This was crazy, this was insane!

But, despite knowing all of this, Soph couldn’t help but falter slightly at her own words. How could she say something like that? Even before her and Zayn had gotten married she hadn’t been able to – and hadn’t she been with Zayn just seconds before – so why was she here, with Aman? None of it made sense!

Whatever was going on, Soph wanted it to stop. She wanted it to stop now.

And as if by some cruel twist of fate, she was suddenly back in her own body again, watching as Aman stood before her and cradled her face.

“Then I won’t go anywhere.” He shrugged.

Soph couldn’t help but feel her heartbeat quicken and her smile broaden at Aman’s reply. Within seconds, her legs were wrapped tight around his waist and they were leaning against the other wall, tangled in one another.

“So what do you want to do today?” Aman asked, his forehead pressed against hers. As Soph stroked his lips with her thumb, smiling at their softness, the real Soph – the one stuck in her own head – started at her fingers couldn’t help but watch how comfortably their bodies fit together, like missing pieces of a puzzle. It was... Bizarre.

Soph’s head was about to rip open. She was watching herself again but could feel everything at the same time – and she was sharing her brain with two versions of herself, one who understood this as a reality and another version that refused to believe it was as real as it felt.

Soph smirked.

“Well, first things first.” She murmured, brushing her lips against his.

Desire, not the fierce lust Soph had known before, gently caressed Soph’s spine, making her shiver. She continued to tease him, the both of them smiling at her playfulness – she’d kiss him and pull away again, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth, forcing him to tighten his grip on her waist – which only made Soph want to mess with him more.

“You’re making me blow off a whole day of work, just to mess with me?” Aman managed to say, as Soph pressed a kiss at the base of his throat, her fingers finding the vein that lead to his heart. She smiled – his pulse was faster than usual. “Cruel.”

“Oh, you’re not really complaining.” Soph retorted, laughing quietly.

She felt her heart quicken in her chest, her breathing becoming slightly heavier, as Aman’s hand tangled in her hair, the other pressing the small of her back further into his chest.

She wasn’t dazed, or confused, or unsure. Her hands gently explored the contours of Aman’s body, like she was already a seasoned explorer, her fingers dancing lithely over the highs and lows of his muscles. She couldn’t help but drag her down slowly down her chest as she felt his hand push his shirt off of her shoulder, caressing the curve of it with his thumb.

She could smell him – a delicious mix of vanilla, fresh water and an undercurrent that was his smell, one that made Soph’s toes curl at the mere thought. She bit back a sigh as Aman threw his shirt to the floor and tangled his hand with her bra strap, his lips softly kissing their way down from her neck as her hand found the fine trail of hair on his stomach... With his other hand tucking itself in the front of the sides of her panties.

“Hey.” Aman mumbled, as Soph couldn’t help but pull his chin up so their mouths were level once more, suddenly wishing his tongue were in seven different places at once and, with a fierceness, roughly grabbed the back of his neck for support. “I love you.”

Somehow, it felt as if Soph had heard those words before – there was a familiarity in them, those words from that voice, filled with sincerity even if Soph could feel how his body was filled with lust. Yet she felt a thrill, a wave of warmth wash through her, her legs wrapping themselves even tighter around his waist even tighter upon hearing those magical three words that she missed so much.

It shocked her, deeply, upon hearing her own response flow so freely from her own mouth.

“I love you, too.” Soph beamed brilliantly – just as both of their hands moved and Soph gasped, as Aman buried his head into the crook of her neck.

Her eyes flew open, the throbbing in her pelvis the first thing she noticed.

Well, that and the shirtless back beside her.

Aman was sitting on the edge of the back, his earphones plugged in. His shorts were low slung and Soph could see the waistband of his boxers once more, giving her a most generous view of his back. From the distant sound of the beat, Soph guessed he was listening to Asian music – and from the way his back was glistening ever so slightly in the bright sunlight filtering in through the balcony, he’d just returned from his morning run.

Soph watched him for a moment, a lump in her throat. What had she – when she’d just...

And the worst part was seeing his skin so close, in reality. But it had felt so real – the way his hands had skimmed over her body, his eyes worshipping her, her body revelling in his wonder – and so... So good, that the small part of Soph’s brain that remained unconscious questioned if she’d been able to conjure that up solely from her mind.

Just as she thought it, she dismissed it once again. The pillow fort was still entirely intact, if not slightly crumpled, and Soph trusted Aman enough to know he would never take advantage with her.

Again, that small, groggy part of her subconscious questioned – how could she have so much faith in him? And more pointedly, what did it mean?

Aman went to stand and Soph quickly slammed her eyes shut, instantly assault with her dream from moments before.

“Soph?” Aman called, peering down at her as he pulled out an earphone. “Are you awake?” No answer. “I kind of need my T-shirt back.” He mumbled, watching her curiously.

Soph lay as still as she possibly could.

Aman’s eyes narrowed slightly. She was a little bit too still.

Showcasing surprisingly fast reflexes, Aman yanked the pillow from underneath Soph’s head and threw it in her face.

“What the f-” Soph jumped just in time, catching it and bolting upright just before it hit her face. “What is wrong with you?”

Aman tried to hold back his laugh.

“Why were you pretending to still be asleep?” Aman asked amusedly.

“I wasn’t.” Soph said defensively, before hesitating slightly and yawning loudly. She stretched, too, glancing at him as she did. “I mean – I just – I have super reflexes. I’m tired, see?” Aman only raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Sotired.” Soph said as convincingly as she could. “What time is it, anyway?”

“5am.” Aman replied, making Soph gasp in disgust. The honour was ungodly. “We’re all leaving for Lucknow in about an hour, the entire house is waking up. Unless you have a shower in the next five or so minutes, the entire house is going to know which lover of yours you weren’t with last night – which I figured is something we wanted to avoid.”

Soph nodded mutely, rubbing her neck sleepily. Right. Zayn was in this house somewhere.

Which reminded her of the reality she’d just woken up from and only freaked her out more.

“Hey, sorry to be a pain in the ass, but think you could chuck my shirt out of the bathroom to me before we go?” Aman asked, Soph nodding groggily as she threw the covers back. “Speed would be good.” Aman added cheekily.

Soph paused to look at him, crossing her arms over her chest – for more than one reason.

“Do you treat every girl you sleep with such pragmatism?”

The words had slipped out before Soph could stop them, before she’d even had a chance to think them through – but rather than creating discomfort between the two of them, Aman seemed to relax even more and laughed.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Aman told her, as Soph quickly went behind the bathroom door and pulled the T-shirt over her head. As she handed it to him, her head popped around the door, Aman grinned. “They don’t get my clothes after.”

Soph rolled her eyes, though smiling slightly at Aman’s ability to keep up with her wit. She watched as he pulled the T-shirt back over his head without qualm, seemingly unperturbed by the fact Soph had been sleeping in it all night. It was hardly his last clean shirt anymore, particularly considering the thoughts Soph had been having whilst wearing it.

Soph’s cheeks pooled red.

“You’re in an awfully chipper mood, considering our mutual destination today.” Soph commented, as Aman fiddled his earphones to run against his chest. As he did, his T-shirt rode up continuously, highlighting his ripped, lean chest. Clearly, Soph had gotten a better look last night than she’d thought.

“Well,” Aman sighed happily, looking up at her, his earphones successfully fixed. “When a friend of yours cuddles you so tight at night, despite preaching she’s a heartless little sucker, the cockles of my heart couldn’t help but warm.”

All of the blood ran from Soph’s face.

“Wh-what?” She managed to choke.

“And that expression,” Aman laughed, ruffling her hair from the other side of the bathroom threshold. “Is exactly why I’m in such a chipper mood this morning.”

“But wait-” Soph began, watching Aman head towards the door.

“See you on the highway to Hell.” He called out to her as he popped his earphones in, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Soph stood there for a few moments, stunned, as well as completely unsure of what to do next – when, on a whim, she quickly walked over to the bed in Aman’s borrowed shorts and her bra, sat on his side of the bed, picked up the sheet and sniffed.

The sweet smell of vanilla, fresh water and an undercurrent of subtle spice infiltrated her nose.

“What am I doing with my life?!” Soph suddenly shouted at herself, throwing the bed sheet down, storming to the bathroom and having the coldest shower the shower settings would allow.

“You know, I don’t know if you’re really stupid, or really smart.”

Louis’ jaw clenched at the sound of Dianna’s voice. At least he didn’t have the added stress of worrying whether one of the boys would wander home – Niall was at his with Alanna, who wasn’t feeling too well, and Liam had spent the last few days out God knew where.

“Why are you doing all of this-”

“Jeez, stop being so melodramatic, would you?” Dianna sighed, settling herself comfortably on the sofa, a few metres from Louis. “You know exactly why I’m doing this. I want to get revenge on that stupid bitch for stealing my Mr Perfect and running off into the sunset like an angel, when she’s just a two-faced whore.”

Louis couldn’t help but scowl at Dianna’s description of Soph.

“And Zayn?” Louis continued, waving one of the spare mobiles Niall had found earlier in Dianna’s direction. “What did you do to him, hey? That he suddenly can’t even see how good he has it with her? You’re calling Soph a two-faced whore, you’re the psychotic bitch.”

“Oh, get over yourself.” Dianna laughed. “I didn’t do anything to Zayn. He’s the one who has the real problem with Soph. It makes my distaste for her look like unicorns shitting rainbows in comparison.”

“That’s bullshit!” Louis couldn’t help but shout, standing to tower over her. “Zayn’s my brother. I know him, I’ve been there for him through all the crap-”

“Ooh, sure, you’ve been there for him during the screaming crowds of adoring, horny girls and occasional shade from jealous presenters and radio interviewers who need to boost their ratings.” Diana told him bitingly, leaning back comfortably where she sat. She was in a pair of blue skinny jeans, a white blouse and a leather jacket. Nobody could have suspected the darkness she held in her, Louis thought bitterly. “That doesn’t make you family, you moron.” Diana leant forward, her face deliberately placed inches away from Louis’ belt. “That makes you successful.” Diana whispered, smirking, before collapsing back in her seat.

Louis silently glared down at her for a moments, before slowly sitting down.

“If you’re that interested, I’ll fill you in.” Dianna told him brazenly, taking out a nail file from her pocket and pressing them to her nails. “I didn’t actually need to do anything – everything I needed to manipulate Zayn was already there, he was already thinking it. I just brought him ahead of schedule.”

Louis was silent for a few moments.

“I don’t get it.” He said tightly, hating himself for admitting it to her.

Diana rolled her eyes.

“Keep up, would you?” She muttered. “Soph is pretty awesome, right?”

“Pretty much.” Louis agreed.

“Right. She’s this super awesome Cambridge graduate, who comes from this super awesome traditional Indian family-”

“Pakistani.” Louis corrected.

“Whatever.” Dianna told him, waving him away. “- who got this super awesome dream job straight out of college because she’s just so goddamn well super fucking awesome!” Diana pretended to gag at the new heights her voice had reached. “And let’s review, shall we? What does Zayn have?” Dianna ticked off her fingers. “A job with no real dependability, one that he’s riding on with borrowed time. He didn’t go to college or do much with his life before your boyband and his family is already different to hers. Of course his family would accept her – she’s Little Miss Perfect, right?” Louis nodded slowly without meaning to, understanding Dianna so far. “But what reason did her family ever have to accept him?” Dianna sighed happily. “And, boy, does he know all of that. He gained the most perfect trophy wife the world has ever seen – I mean, she’s not ugly, either, which makes the sex somewhat bearable and her other achievements crazily make up for her lack of expertise – but what did she get from marrying him?”

“They love each other.” Louis told her disgustedly. “Or is that too fucking normal for you?”

“My God, you’re delusional.” Diana hummed. “Don’t you get it? He’s insecure. It doesn’t have to make sense. For once, the idiot knows something Miss Brainbox doesn’t – that she’s going to get bored. So he’s trying ever so hard to find something to cling onto, so he can salvage at least a glimmer of the respect Soph is losing for him with every passing second.” Dianna tossed her hair back. “I mean, leaving your wife to miscarry her baby all by herself? I’m not that cruel.”

“That was you, don’t deny it!”

“I don’t need to deny it.” Dianna told him, leaning forward. “I didn’t do it, okay? Sure, I fed him some lines about the pregnancy being a little suspicious but come on, even if that were true, I respect the girl for trying. Desperate, if you ask me, but I’m the one that pushed her there.” Dianna shook her head. “No. Yeah, I told Zayn to take control and show her who was boss, but leaving her abandoned to deal with her dead child?” Dianna fell suspiciously quiet, staring down into her lap. “Nobody deserves that. Not even her. I should know.”

Curiosity instantly piqued in Louis’ mind, but he refused to ask. He wouldn’t give her the power.

“So you’re saying all of the bullshit they’re going through, because he left her on her own, was his idea?”

“I didn’t say it was a good one.” Dianna shrugged. “But that’s a pretty decent summary.” Dianna pursed her lips in thought. “If memory serves me correctly, it had something to do with him genuinely believing Soph would respect him more if he left her to deal with it on her own. Something about ice to her fire or bringing her emotional side out so he could train it or something, I don’t know, I just remember the whack circus analogy he used that he thought was super clever but didn’t actually make any sense.” Dianna told Louis conversationally. “Like it makes a difference, anyway. Got me what I wanted quicker than I’d planned, so hey, who’s complaining?”

“So what was the need to screw him, then?” Louis spat, wishing the sense Dianna was making away from his head. Zayn had always been quiet and insecure – but he’d always battled through it, because of his bandmates, his family, the people he loved. Was it possible that was what could screw him up even more?

Louis’ head screamed yes as his heart begged no.

“Who said I did?” Dianna smirked. Louis opened his mouth to speak, but Dianna quickly interrupted him. “Look, I’m bored of this conversation. I just came here to tell you to back off. We’ve got this – you screwing around with our fun doesn’t help anyone.” With that, Dianna stood, Louis grabbing her wrist for fear she’d disappear in a cloud of purple smoke.

“What do you mean, we?” Louis growled.

“What, you think you’re the first person to come up with the whole screw-up-somebody-else’s-life-to-pick-up-their-pieces plan?” Dianna spat. “You and me aren’t as different as you’re trying to convince yourself, okay? At least I can admit I’m trying to screw up Soph’s life. You and Ryan screwing up Rose’s through the same method is exactly the same.” Dianna picked up one of the phones on the table and laughed to herself. “You know what? Keep the damn phones, keep sending your little anonymous copy texts. The game you’re playing is just a part of mine and if you actually keep convincing yourself you’re doing the right thing and stop being such a sanctimonious bastard, maybe you’ll actually be on the winning side...”

Louis’ hand fell limply from Dianna’s wrist and he could only watch as Dianna walked over to the living room door, pausing.

“For once.” Dianna winked, before leaving.

“I didn’t say this when we were boarding, because I had other fish to fry-” Soph didn’t mention this included Bee pulling her and Lucky to the side and squealing for ten solid minutes before finally telling them that her and Tiff had finally done “it”. “But another private jet? Really?”

“I had never been inside of that jet before today.” Aman told her factually, the two of them staring at the aforementioned vehicle. “Scout’s honour.”

It was just then that the Captain approached them.

“Sir, just before you go – you left this last time.” Soph raised her eyebrows as Aman took the box with a cough, opening it to reveal a silver Rolex. “You didn’t miss it, did you, sir?”

“Scout’s honour, huh?” Soph murmured quietly, smirking.

“No, I didn’t.” Aman told the Captain, who nodded and hurried off with a polite smile. Upon seeing the smug look on Soph’s face, Aman retorted – “Oh, shut up. When you sound so self-righteous, what else am I supposed to say?”

Soph smiled, shaking her head.

It had been an hour’s flight from Mumbai to Lucknow, and their luggage was currently being packed into the cars. Kabir and Zayn were talking about something seriously by the cars, Jai and Zara were bickering loudly nearby, Raj was astounded by his own reflection in Aman’s front-screen camera on his phone by Soph and Aman’s feet and Lucky was talking to Bee whilst Tiff looked for his watch inside.

Soph didn’t want to know how he’d lost it.

She’d barely spoken to Zayn today. She’d wanted to – but then on the plane, an hour had flown by as she, Lucky and Bee had discussed Bee’s de-virginized status. And honestly, she’d been having so much fun swapping stories and joking, that Soph hadn’t wanted it to end.

“You okay?” Aman nudged. Quickly, Soph rubbed where their arms had touched, hating how her mind instantly imagined his hand on her shoulder, stroking away the shirt of his she’d held hostage... Whilst dreaming, she reminded herself violently. “You kind of spaced for a second.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Soph replied with a quick, forced smile. Aman raised an eyebrow – and just like that, Soph sighed. “I just... I’ve been thinking about stuff and I need to talk to Zayn, you know? Preferably before I get immersed in your drama.”

Aman bristled slightly.

“You don’t have to immerse yourself in-”

“I know,” Soph interrupted. “But what kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Aman hesitated for a moment – but then he softened and smiled slightly, nodding.

“I guess I can accept that. Doesn’t mean I like it, though.” Aman added. He nodded over to where Zayn was standing. “Why don’t you just get it over with? You know, like when you rip off a Band-Aid?”

“Plaster.” Soph automatically corrected. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Aman tutted.

“How can you still doubt me?” Aman murmured in amazement, making Soph roll her eyes again. She was hovering over him uncertainly. “Anything else, O Learner Child?”

“Loser.” Soph sighed, rubbing her temples. “Look, I have a question for you and you’re not going to like me asking.”

“Since when has that stopped you?” Aman snorted.

“Are you going to go off the rails and go to a fight tonight?” Soph asked quietly, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper. Aman said nothing, watching her with a completely neutral expression. “Do Jai and I have to play tag-team and keep an eye on you?”

Aman nodded seriously, bending down slightly so their faces were only inches away.

“Why don’t you play tag-team with your husband instead?” He asked innocently, Soph instantly wanting to bash his head against a brick wall. Aman laughed as Soph flipped him the finger and went to walk away. “Hey, don’t miss cuddling me too much!”

Soph threw the fiercest glare she had over her shoulder, hastily checking nobody had noticed. When she looked back at Aman again, he wasn’t even paying her any attention – he was talking to Raj instead, picking him up from the ground.

Soph took a deep breath as she approached Zayn. Kabir was talking to the drivers now, whilst Zayn leant against the car, checking his phone.

Well, he was pretending to check his phone. Soph knew he was either checking his reflection or playing a game.

“Hey.” Soph said awkwardly, trying to ignore the shock on Zayn’s face at seeing her standing so close. The expression quickly disappeared. “Can we talk?”

Zayn shrugged, going back to his phone.

“I’m not stopping you.”

Soph physically had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from being rude.

“Look, I was thinking in the shower this morning-”

“Was he in there with you?” Zayn asked, nodding in Aman’s direction – Soph knew without having to check. “Or did you grab one of the serving boys in there too, just whoever could satisfy your urges?”

For a moment, Soph was too stunned to reply. That was so... Vulgar.

“Whatever, I just wanted to clear something up.” Soph shook her head, stepping forward slightly. At that, Zayn paused – and looked up at her through his sunglasses, his eyes staring into hers. “Remember that time you tried to catch me after work, when I told you we were never going to happen?” Zayn nodded curtly. “I guess I figured you didn’t ask why I did that because we were together, or because you understood. But in light of recent events, I don’t think we know each other that well.”

“You left me there to test me, I’m not an idiot, whatever you may think.” Zayn muttered, standing up a little straighter. At the proximity decreasing between the two of them again, Soph couldn’t help but look behind her, to find a friendly face for support – and her eyes fell to Aman and Raj playing. “What, hoping your boyfriend is going to swoop in and save the day?”

Soph closed her eyes for a moment. Wow. It was amazing how somebody could be so cruel. And seeing as this was coming from Soph, reigning queen of bitchiness, that meant something.

“I didn’t do it to test you. I did it because I knew you’d hurt me.” Soph told Zayn fiercely, unable to help the trembling anger in her voice – and she couldn’t help but feel satisfied as Zayn’s expression changed into something more recognizable, showing more pain. “I didn’t know how and I didn’t know when, but I knew it was an inevitability. We had broken every single law in our entirely separate universes by even looking at each other again and the fact we were allowed to have a little bit of happiness before things got really crazy? Karmic retribution, I knew, was going to come back and bite us in the ass.”

“Soph, hang on a second-” Zayn began to say quickly – but Soph waved him off. She had to say this. Whether for him, or for her, or for them both she didn’t know – but she had to say it and if she didn’t now, she wouldn’t ever.

“And expecting it made me ready for it. I could prepare myself.” She continued. Tears sprung up in her eyes as she opened her mouth again – only to close it again and glance around, to make sure they weren’t being watched. Finally, she said – “But one thing I wasn’t ready for? One thing I didn’t see coming?” Soph forced herself to stare at the ground, to compose herself. It was difficult – not because it was the truth, but because it was something she’d known all along. The tears began to fall. “I wasn’t ready for you to leave.” Soph whispered, smiling sadly. “I just – I didn’t think it would come so soon, you know? And I didn’t think you’d be so quick to let it happen.”

“Wait, wait, just hang on Soph, we can talk about this properly-” Zayn began desperately, but Soph was shaking her head before he’d even started.

“No, no we can’t! Don’t you get that? Look at what this conversation was up until Istarted talking about our problems.” Soph pressed her palm to her forehead. It was hot and humid and that was doing nothing to help her growing headache. “You didn’t trust me, Zayn. Before we were even married.”

“How can you say that?” Zayn demanded in indignation. “I-”

“You were so sure I was going to get bored. You thought I lied when I said it didn’t matter to me that we were different. You couldn’t trust me to stick by the one relationship I risked everything in my life for!” Soph hissed, her eyes blurring again. “I don’t just see someone who broke their promises when I look at you, I see someone who didn’t even mean them in the first place. And if you can leave me now, when we’re meant to be happy and trust each other and not even see anyone else, how in God’s name can I expect to rely on you tomorrow? When we’re in our thirties, if we even lastthat long, when your fans hate me and your career isn’t on the fast lane anymore and we resent the fact we’ve wasted our entire lives together?” Zayn was faltering under Soph’s interrogation and she didn’t care. She stepped forward again, vicious again. “Tell me. Tell me how you can expect me to do that, when you didn’t even think marrying you meant anything to me.”

“Soph, just slow down-”

“Why?” Soph asked quietly, stepping back. “You never did. You ran for your life and you didn’t look back, not until you realized you no longer had an audience.”

Zayn was quiet for a moment, unable to speak.

Soph shook her head, wiping her eyes.

“So that’s what I came up with, lying in a freezing cold shower pretending that my shuddering and crying was just because of the temperature.” Soph laughed mirthlessly, rubbing her eyes dry so hard, Zayn temporarily worried she was about to scratch her own eyes out. With one large sigh, Soph finally pulled her hands from her face – and just like that, the wall was back up. “I figured out that was what was bothering me – or one of the things, I haven’t even worked that fully out yet – and... I don’t know, I just thought you might find it something worth knowing. Maybe.”

“No, Soph, just hang on-” Zayn said desparately, grabbing her wrist.

She’d expected it. She’d hoped she would be wrong and that he wouldn’t infringe her space, but then again – he didn’t know anything else. In fairness, Soph had never stopped him before now, either.

But what Soph didn’t count on was the reaction her body had to his touch – most particularly, his thumb just over her pulse.

Soph was suddenly rushed back to her dream, the dream of her and Zayn kissing, the feeling of his thumb right over her jugular again.

Only with his hand on her wrist, it felt like he was pressing his thumb hard into her throat and she was losing the ability to breathe.

Her wrist was yanked out of his grip just as their skin brushed, making a variety of feelings – fear, horror, disgust and shame to name a few – making her skin crawl so badly, Soph wanted to rip it off.

“Please,” Soph began quietly, wincing, begging this time. “Please don’t touch me again, okay?”

And then she walked away again.

Liam was losing count of the days he’d spent looking for Kara.

He was now in a seedy-looking cafe in SoHo during broad daylight, which probably wasn’t the best for publicity. Strangely, he felt the urge to text Rose – and although Liam knew exactly how inappropriate that was, he couldn’t think of anyone else to talk to.

Something about Kara made Liam... Enamoured with her. He’d never seen someone with such confidence, with such self-assurance just walk up to him and have him at their mercy before. It had been scary and liberating and wonderful all at the same time, just to not have to always be in control for once. It had tasted like freedom.

“Fuck it.” Liam muttered to himself, pressing the dial button beside Rose’s name.

It rang for a few times, but Rose finally picked up.

“Liam, hey!” Rose said brightly. “A friendly voice, that makes a change. How’s life?”

Instantly, Liam began to doubt himself. A friendly voice? Rose had her own problems, she didn’t need him adding to them –

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not having a phone conversation now.” Kara laughed mirthlessly, snatching his phone from his ear and hanging up.

Um, what?

“Now listen to me, and listen to me damn carefully.” Kara told him, slipping into the chair opposite. She was in grey tracksuit bottoms, a tank top and a pair of Nike trainers, a hoodie and a snapback completing the outfit. She looked... Different to how she’d looked before. “You were a means to an end. I don’t give a fuck if I gave you the greatest hand-job you’ve ever had, it’s not my problem if you’re lacking game and your rabid fan girls are, either. I got what I wanted and gave you a bonus, so leave me alone now, understood? I’m not interested.”

“Hey, wait, stop-” Liam said, grabbing her arm – and seeing the little pinpricks dotting the inside of her forearm. “Oh, shit-”

And just like that, Kara screamed.

It was a blur what happened next. People were surrounding him, questioning him, recognizing him – and Kara was weaving through the crowd and out the door.

“You... Grew up here?” Soph mumbled, looking up at the grand house before her.

Well. Could she even really call it a house?

It looked more like something out of a fairy tale. It stretched across the fresh lawn in front of them, a daunting white affair. There was a large fountain just before the grand front door and, before that, the gate where they all stood. Well – the others were making their way inside, while Aman and Soph hung back to ogle at the gate.

“No, I grew up about ten blocks from here in the nearest slum.” Aman smirked lopsidedly. “Want to see later?”

And just like, the enchantment of Aman’s upbringing disappeared.

“Sounds exciting.” Soph said dryly, nudging Aman in the shoulder. Despite their joking, she could see Aman’s insecurity written all over his face – even if nobody else could.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Kabir had kept a close eye on Aman ever since they’d gotten into the car.

Soph had sat between Jai and Raj and Zara. It hadn’t exactly been the most comfortable car journey she’d ever been in and honestly, Soph didn’t even know why Zara had bothered to come at all, but it certainly beat sitting beside Zayn – who, ironically, had ended up between Aman and Tiff. If every time the car jolted Aman and Zayn looked like they were going to rip one another’s throats out, it would have been funny – but then Soph would remember how close they’d been to fighting before, and suddenly, it wasn’t so amusing.

“Come on.” Soph nudged, pulling Aman by the sleeve through the gates.

By the time they got inside, Bee was already lost in a giant bear-hug with her father.

Aman’s father.

“Why don’t you take our guests up to their rooms?” Her father said fondly, holding her on the shoulders. Bee nodded, motioning for them all to join her up the spiral staircase in the corner, leading away from the shining marble floor. “Your grandfather, brother and I have a lot to catch up on.”

Soph barely caught a glance at the man she’d heard so much about in the past few days. But it hit her like a tidal wave – despite not having so much as glimpsed his face, Soph already held a strong dislike for Kabir Zafar’s son.

“Soph?” Zayn asked quietly, hovering uncertainly behind her.

Soph quickly snapped out of her daze. Shooting Aman one parting glance of good luck – one Soph wasn’t sure he’d seen – she traipsed up the stairs with the others, laughing with Jai as Raj attempted to clamber up the stairs as fast as he could.

Bee was leading them down the hallway when Jai pulled on her elbow.

“Think it’s worth a listen?” He murmured. Any signs of his happiness from moments before was instantly gone, a grim anger present instead. “I don’t trust them, not any one of them except Grandfather – and he will eventually need to pee.”

Soph considered her option for a moment. Traipsing behind Zayn and trying more than usual to pretend nothing was wrong, or actually being on watch for damage control?

“Won’t we get caught?” Soph asked carefully.

Jai shook his head.

“In this family, you can tell how the conversation is going to go by the first sentence.” He told her, watching as Raj toddled over to Zara. He motioned to the stairs with his head. “Come on. I’ve seen Yasin do this before – we won’t even see the rest of them until tomorrow morning.”

Soph nodded, following Jai as he crept down the stairs, chewing her bottom lip. It wouldput her mind at rest...

“... No matter what the emergency.” Yasin was saying harshly, facing Kabir and Aman as they stood side-by-side to face him.

“Well, that sounds bloody good, doesn’t it?” Jai swore under his breath, making Soph bite on her lip harder.

“This is my home before it’s yours-”

“But he-” Yasin pointed angrily at Aman. “- doesn’t belong here, Father! I understand that you want to reconcile the family, but this bastard doesn’t come under that category!”

Soph’s mouth dropped open. Her and Jai both noticed how Aman’s shoulders tensed – but Kabir kept a firm hand on his grandson’s arm, as if to remind him why he was there.

“We’ve heard enough.” Jai grumbled. “Let’s go.”

Rose as officially suspicious.

She’d tried calling Eddie countless times, only for him to not pick up. Although Harry had been texting her – nothing spectacular, just the occasional hellos and how are you’s -, Rose felt uncomfortable, as if something were wrong with it all... Particularly after confiding in Harry about Lily. It felt strange to bare a part of her soul like that and then run away from it.

Although she did do that. Often.

Though it had to be said, that this... Feeling Rose was having – it made her giddy.

Sure, she didn’t have giddy feelings over one particular guy, but that didn’t seem to stop her. She would lay awake at night, wondering if they were thinking of her – and if they were, what exactly were they thinking? Were they imagining scenarios in their head like she was, imagining perfect little scenes that sometimes made her chest ache, she wanted them to be real so badly? Were they that different to her fantasies?

Rose knew it was wrong to feel so euphoric. Ultimately, it still stood that Rose had expected sex to provide the answers – and it hadn’t. Which meant she was right back where she’d started.

Liam had called her, only to hang up, too. She didn’t have any work for the day, Sarah was probably off somewhere licking her wounds, her flatmates were all doing their own thing... Rose felt... Lonely.

She tried Soph’s phone the third time when she picked up.

“Hey, Rose, I’m sorry, I can’t talk right now.” Soph said immediately, sounding stressed. “But I have time for a five-second status update. How’s life?”

“I slept with Harry and Eddie.” Rose blurted – completely and utterly unintentionally.

She’d been hoping to ease Soph into it.

There were a few seconds’ worth of silence down the phone, the only indication Soph was still there being the static from the international line.

“Please tell me not at the same time.” Soph murmured, sounding amused.

Rose sighed with relief.

“No, of course not! It was separately. Actually, I kind of seduced Harry. If this were three years ago, oh my God, I wouldn’t even have been able to say that out loud.” Soph chuckled lightly in agreement. “Where are you now? Oh my God – what time is it for you, I totally spaced?”

“Late.” Soph yawned. “We’re at Bee and Aman’s parents’ place. Long story. It’s nearly 2am here, I couldn’t sleep.”

“You mean next to Zayn?” Rose asked shrewdly.

Soph grumbled.

“Don’t even,” Soph warned. “When we’re both actually a bit more alive and not drowning in our most recent indiscretions, we have so much to catch up on.”

“How are things between Britain’s favourite married couple?” Rose pushed. Technically, Soph hadn’t commented on the current situation with her and Zayn.

“I don’t know, how are the royal family?” Soph asked innocently. Rose rolled her eyes, knowing Soph could feel it. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty friend lately.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Something I saw today.” Soph told her, thinking back to Jai’s expression upon hearing his best friend so abused. “In fact, screw this, let me just get some hot chocolate and we can – shit!”

“Soph?” Rose said in alarm, instantly sitting up – despite the fact she hadn’t gotten out of bed, or out of her pyjamas, for nearly two days. “Is everything okay?”

But Soph was hissing every single profanity she knew – some of them not even English – down the phone.

“Rose, I am so sorry, I will call you back later but I have to go, alright?”

“Soph, you’re scaring me...” Rose began uncertainly, thinking back to the last time Soph had suddenly cut off from communication.

“I am quite possibly watching a man drive to his death and that man is my friend, so I have to go, Rose, I am so sorry-”

“No, no, don’t be!” The word friend instantly had alarm bells going off in Rose’s head – friend? What kind of friend? Which friend, which friend that was a man – and driving towards his death. “Are you sure it’s that serious? Is there anything I can do-”

“I am so sorry, I’ll call you tomorrow!”

The phone line went dead before Rose could say anything more.

“Jai!” Soph shouted at the top of her voice, practically skidding across the pristine floor.

“What the Hell is wrong with you, it’s two in the goddamn morning-” Jai yelled incredulously, exiting one of the rooms Soph had just passed.

Soph didn’t bother using words. Instead, she dragged Jai to the balcony, just in time for him to see a car gunning down the road at breakneck speed.

“Is that-” Jai stared at Soph in horror. “But I told the staff not to-”

“I was on the phone and I saw him talking to some girl and then he was walking out of the gate with a goddamn duffel bag-”

“I have to go.” Jai muttered, backing away from the balcony and quickening his pace towards the stairs – but not before Soph firmly grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

“You have to go?” Soph demanded. “Oh, no, no, no, I don’t think so. I’m coming with you!”

“Soph, I don’t have time for this, he’s out there and about to do something stupid-”

“I know that!” Soph burst. “So why are you standing here arguing with me?”

She could see it on his face; she could see it, behind the panic in his eyes, that Jai was wondering why Soph was suddenly so invested. In all honesty, she didn’t really understand it herself – she just knew that, as maddening and petrifying and utterly absurd as her dream had been that morning, something about the way her subconscious had taken note and shown her Aman’s smile...

Regardless of the manner in which she’d seen it, that smile had been pure happiness. And the least Soph could do after all Aman had done for her, was help him retrieve that.

“Okay.” Jai nodded, before rushing down the stairs.

“Okay.” Soph murmured to herself, taking a deep breath and following him.

They were just about to jump into the car when they saw Kabir watching them, staring at them serenely as if he wasn’t worried by their hurry at all.

“W-we’ll be back soon.” Soph managed to stammer – she was at too much of a loss to say anything else.

Did Kabir know what Aman was about to do? Did he know what it meant?

“Soph, we have to go!” Jai yelled.

With one parting look, Soph jumped into the car and watched as Kabir Zafar rapidly become a dot in the rearview mirror.

It was crowded.

Soph’s heart was beating so fast in her chest it was thrumming, but everywhere she looked, it were as if she were registering it all sluggishly in slow motion.

The crowd Jai was pushing through was crammed into every possible space of the small room. It smelt of sweat, tea and blood thirst, and the crowd roared every time Soph heard a small rattle.

“Stay with me.” Jai mouthed to her over the noise. Soph planned to – she was in an all white Asian suit and possibly the only female there. She could feel some of the men staring slyly at her, making her skin crawl.

Jai finally managed to push them to the front when she saw it.

The cage couldn’t have been much larger in size than a medium-sized coffee table. Black cable, like the types Soph had seen on school fences, surrounded them from floor to ceiling. There was only one way in and one way out – a single door at the side of the cage, currently locked and guarded by a burly looking man three times Soph’s size.

When Soph dared to look inside the cage, she felt like she were about to pass out – and Soph was many things, but faint-hearted wasn’t one of them.

Aman was shirtless and dripped in sweat, beads of it, running through his hair and down his back, onto the floor. Bruises were all over his chest, some black and purple in colour, others a sickly green and yellow. Blood ran from his nose, the corner of his mouth and the side of his forehead, his jaw clenched in concentration, his hair in wavy tufts from the heat.

“Shit.” Jai muttered in horror.

Soph’s bubble burst.

The crowd cheered loudly as a man the size of a sumo wrestler pushed Aman into the corner, pummelling his fists into his stomach. Soph couldn’t help but let out a small squeak of horror as Aman grit back a cry of pain, suddenly reaching punching his opponent as hard as he possibly could in the nose.

“We have to get him out of there!” Soph shrieked, Jai nodding grimly and storming over to the guard by the door.

Soph stood beside him, hands entwined with the fence, his body protecting hers from the roaring crowd’s. It was horrifying; Aman was brutally punching his opponent as hard as he could, the giant man’s back to Soph.

“Motherfucker, I’ll rip your fucking throat out!” Soph heard Jai yell in Punjabi, he and the security guard squaring up to one another.

It happened very quickly.

One minute, Aman was punching his opponent so hard in the stomach and face, his hands were a blur – the next, at the sound of his best friend’s voice, he turned in horror and caught Soph’s eye – and just like that, his adversary had him on the floor.

“Jai, hurry up!” Soph screamed, watching as Mr Giant Man towered over Aman as he groaned on the floor, cupping his nose and muttering Punjabi curse-words as loudly as his pain would allow him.

Soph clamped a hand over her scream as Aman was kicked brutally in the stomach, followed by having his head bashed against the concrete floor.

There was blood. Everywhere, there was blood.

Feebly, Aman attempted to rise – but this time, he was flung against the cage’s side, pulled up from the floor like a ragdoll by his hair.

Jai and the guard were now openly fighting now. Despite Jai’s wiry frame in comparison, the guard’s nose had a slightly bent look to it, with gashes already all over his face.

Soph’s heart instantly jumped into her throat. In all of their fighting, Jai and the guard had managed to open the door into the cage slightly.

The crowd was insane now, chanting evilly, as Aman’s face took two punches, three punches, four, his head beginning to loll on his shoulder.

Every fibre of Soph’s being told her that she was about to do something incredibly stupid, but somehow, she couldn’t stop herself.

It was after a severe punch to the gut, as Aman sat dully against the cage’s far end, that he saw Soph pushing against the writhing, grabbing bodies of the men in the crowd – jeering at her, whistling at her, attempting to pull on her clothes as she moved past them – and into the cage.

Aman liked to think he groaned are you kidding me under his breath, but in reality, he was too breathless to do so.

Three things happened at once.

Firstly, with the very last of his courage, Aman forced himself to stand, let out a rather unseemly grunt of exertion (he couldn’t tell) and punch his rival’s temple with all his might; secondly, Jai burst into the cage, members of the crowd falling in with him after he had apparently started a riot and began to fight the tank of a man himself before he could go after Aman; and thirdly, Aman fell to the floor, Soph instantly falling to her knees beside him.

“Oh my God, please don’t die, do not die, oh my God please do not die!” Soph was murmuring frantically, panic rising into her chest at Aman’s bloodied and barely moving chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath. No, no, she had to remain calm. Placing her hands on Aman’s face and glancing behind her, to see Jai was lost in the crowd of rioters, she arranged herself so that Aman’s damp head was resting on the white fabric of her lap. “Aman, please say something – anything, anything at all! Make a stupid comment – something – oh my God, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead-” Soph gasped as Aman grumbled something, his eyes still closed as his head moved in her lap. “Are you alive? Please say you’re alive, please!” She gripped his face tighter, her face bent over his, her long hair falling like a curtain to separate them both from the chaos beside them. “Aman!” Soph shouted frantically.

And then finally, finally, just as tears were beginning to fill Soph’s eyes, when she thought she’d be facing death again, as if she were a bad omen – Aman mumbled:

“The one time a fight is going the way I want, you two come running in.” Soph sighed so heavily with relief, her whole body shook. Grimacing as he opened his eyes, Aman just about to managed to stare up at her. “Your timing sucks.”

The last thing he saw before he blacked out, was Soph smiling broadly in the utmost relief.

#tr #tr28