Chapter 20 - Always be my Maybe

• Hi guys, hope you’ve been having a lovely weekend?
• Read on. . .
• Zack
• I had told her what I felt. Sincerely, I didn’t exactly know what I wanted from her. When she asked me what I wanted, I felt a bit careless. Cause I didn’t caution myself, not to say the words that sent off the wrong meaning.
• “W—what?” She tethered in. I watched her every move crazily as she stood up and begun backing away. “You heard me right, mon amor.” I said out which earned a loud shriek from her.
• “Shut up! Oh, shut up Zack” She let out.
• “Could you even listen to yourself? You can’t go out telling a girl that you want all of her, you know. That’s going to mess with her head.” Zara defended. Her eyes were narrowed in hurt and her lips were red and pouty. She always pouted when she was in hurt. A thing I had noticed in the few weeks we’ve spent together.
• “But you’re not any girl, Zara. You’re my—wife and I--I’m your husband.” I gushed out. Her head seemed to fume more in anger as she breath in about five paces. “You could as well announce that on Vogue. Or Bloomingdale’s. It doesn’t link to you.” She says, pointing at the flaws in what I had said. It felt like she was friend zoning me. The irony of it all was I didn’t know if I wanted to be that.
• “Why do you take things too personal?” I ask. She had a way of putting words in my mouth without listening to what I had to say.
• “I don’t. . . Actually, I’m just telling you what people say about you.” She responds.
• “And what might that be?” I ask. People had a way of talking about royalties and famous people. They even had no problem setting up a scandal to the benefit of hot cake served when hurt, then they cook up more things for the effect.
• “He could burn. When you see him, run. To him it’s just for fun. Charming, seductive, a Greek godly womanizer. That’s what they all said about you even before we married.” She let out. I’m in no way surprised by what she says. Yet, I do not miss the hint of betrayal that moved past my chest for a while. I felt she wasn’t meant to believe all these.
• “And you believed all that?” I ask her intensely.
• “Who won’t? You look good and always use seductive tones with me.” She said. I smirked, holding in a laugh about to spill out. A laugh out of pain though. “Zara, Zara, Zara.” I taunted.
• “People always tend to say things.” I start out.
• “They would always judge you by your outer appearance and ignore the real you deep down.” I add. “If people don’t talk about you, then you’re not significant. Lesson I learnt the hard way.” I voiced out again.
• “Umm…Zack?” She called.
• “Yeah?” I replied. Though in more of a question again. “Why are you suddenly being inspirational out of the blue?” She asked. I’m quick to smile at that question before I reply. “Because I expected you not to believe the rumors about me. Maybe I guessed wrong. Or my expectations were too high. Maybe we are still strangers to each other and we need time to adapt.” I spoke. I honestly didn’t know why I wanted her to not believe the rumors or be more than strangers. Or adapt.
• We were together because of a mistake. A mistake from two parties who thought they were perfect at matchmaking, betrothing us to each other. That is Zara’s mom and dad and my mom and dad.
• “Now that’s a lot of maybe’s, right?” She asks trying to crack the bored mode.
• “Yeah, maybe. But Zara, that’s the irony of it all. The irony of life” I say.
• “What is, if I may ask?”
• “People dwell on maybe’s. Different kinds of people. People in love, hate, confusion. They assume and end up getting hurt.” I blurt out. She lifts her hand to her chin. I assume she’s interested and carry on.
• “But sometimes, it’s good if we are sure. Not too sure, though. Yet, we move forward and not dwell on pasts, but our present.” I say. She directs her gaze to the ground. Her hair drops from the bun from her countless tugging. I narrow my eyes at how pretty she looked with her hair down.
• “What do you want me to think, right now, Zack?” She asked. I instinctively held my gaze towards hers. She looked baffled at me and faced the opposite direction. “Could you stop doing that?” Zara suddenly spits out. I withheld a moment of laughter, locking it inside my throat.
• “Stop doing what?” I say feigning innocence. “Looking at me like that. Like you could swallow me in a matter of seconds. Like you’re into me, so much.” She carried on nudging her fingers fidgetily. Holding the intended words, I meant to say, I planned to play along.
• “I would have done just that if I had the chance, Zara. But, you’re so-- pretty. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve layed my eyes on. I bless the day you became my wife.” I said trying to look desperate and seductive. For a moment, I’m quick to think that it’s working. For a moment, I actually freeze my mind to check that what I said. It was like I meant part of it but I dismissed the thought.
• “Oh, how much more, Zack? We both know you don’t mean any what you’ve just said. So, if I were you, I’d swallow my words back with my pride and back off!” Her words are quick and blunt. She assumed I was playing with her. The irony of it all—I wasn’t even sure if I was or wasn’t. I didn’t know what I felt. Again.
• “As hard as ever. Always.” I say gently, smiling with my wounded pride. No one could resist that. No one has ever. Those days in the palace, even now. Whenever I flirted with any girl, she’d melt down her knees. They were just not compared to Zara. She was really a woman of strength. Perhaps a doppelgänger of strong women like Malala Yousafzai who fought for freedom of girl child’s education.
• “And will always be.” I watch her lips as they pout in annoyance. I figure she notices and make it firmer. “Zara” I taunted. I was about to ask her what she felt for me. I knew she didn’t like my bossy attitude. Yet, I wanted to make her feel something. . . Anything.
• “Yes, Zack?” She replied arching her furrowed brows up. It seemed okay even though we’ve not had a proper bath in days. “What do you think about those rumors? Do you think I should listen to them?” I ask. I had changed my question. Was too much of a coward to bring it up. “Absolutely not, people would always talk. Just let them do just that.” She lets out. “And, in the meantime?” I ask. She couldn’t possibly be asking me to forget totally about everything. “What happens when the rumors start affecting your every move?” I defiantly asked. She seemed to be oblivious to whatever was around her.
• “Then you could always come to me. Maybe I’ll know the rumors are just fake since you’ve told me that today.” She says. I look at her back. She is so serious with the expression on her face.
• “But, you’ll have to promise me one thing.” She adds.
• “What?” I ask surprisingly.
• “That in return, you’ll always be my maybe.” She lets out.
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