Chapter 6
Nadiya
– Perhaps the city should know that you brought another woman to our marriage bed?
“There is actually no bed, Nadiya,” Idar responds calmly.
And again he lowers his gaze to the dirty hem of my dress.
“Where have you been?” He remains calm, and in general I have the feeling that he is interested in this because someone ordered him to.
In fact, he doesn’t give a damn about me.
A nasty, painful feeling stirs in my soul, like an aching old scar.
Everything in my life is stable. Nobody cares about me.
I don’t remember my parents’ love very well; the memories have faded, leaving behind only fragments.
I now have a whole family in my life: my husband, his siblings, and their parents. But, as before, no one cares about me.
Maybe someone put the evil eye on me? Or is this an evil fate, and I must bear its burden for the rest of my days?
I look at Idar and understand that perhaps if things were different, if he were free and at least a little more inclined to have a warm relationship with me, something would have worked out between us.
But I’m like an extra cog in the machine again.
“You understand I can find out easily. I just need to call the taxi that took you there,” Idar tilts his head and looks at me intently.
— I was at my parents’.
He frowns.
— Why didn’t they show up at the wedding?
My chest tightens painfully. I close my eyes and try to draw in more air to even out my ragged breathing.
Then I open my eyes and meet Idar’s gaze.
— They didn’t show up at the wedding because they died many years ago.
Not a muscle twitches on his face. His expression remains as indifferent as ever.
— Have you been to the grave?
Idiot.
– Yes.
– Well then, I guess there’s nothing keeping you here. We can go to the city.
I frown. Is he serious now?
“What’s wrong?” he asks, a little irritated, seeing my face.
“Your girlfriend came to me yesterday to sort things out. From that, I concluded you’re in a fulfilling relationship. Why do you need this marriage?”
“Why do you need it?” he bows his head, looking at me like a bird of prey.
I lick my lips nervously, and Idar looks down at them; his gaze lingers on my lips for only a second, but something changes in his gaze, it becomes more intense.
– As you can see, we both have our own motives and reasons for entering into this marriage.
“I won’t be second, Idar,” I answer seriously.
“That won’t be necessary. For everyone, you will be the first and only. But outside the doors of our home, each of us will have our own life.”
Super.
I wonder what he will say if I get myself another man, like he got himself Olesya.
“If you’re allowed to have another woman, will I also be allowed to have a man on the side?” I ask defiantly.
He stops breathing, his gaze is covered by a dark veil.
“You can try,” he squeezes out. “It will be the last thing you do before I strangle you.”
I clench my fists.
This was expected. Hypocrisy permeates everything. It allows people to have second wives and mistresses, but we’re only allowed to endure.
“About Olesya,” Idar steps away from me, clearly trying to restrain himself; my question has offended him. “You should forget about her.”
“Forget that my husband has a mistress?” My eyebrows rise. “How do you even imagine that?”
“Just don’t tell me you’re jealous of me,” he smiles wryly.
And that’s when I realize this is my chance. A good chance to put forward my own terms.
Idar or his family need this marriage for some reason. I am needed for some reason.
So far, I don’t understand why. There’s nothing to be gained from either me or Tamerlan. And while I lead a quiet life, my uncle plays for high stakes and often loses, which could create problems for the respected Yunusov family.
So there must be something else going on here.
— I want to live in my own apartment. With my brother.
– Brother?
“Do you even know anything about me?” I flare up.
“No,” he smiles wryly. “I have the same question for you.”
He already guessed that I don’t know a damn thing.
– You won’t live at your place.
— My brother is fifteen. I am his guardian, and we must live together.
Idar runs his hand over his chin.
— He can’t take care of himself? He’s fifteen!
“He…” I swallow, “can’t.”
Yunusov looks at me with an unreadable gaze.
“You’ll be living in my house,” he snaps. “That’s not up for discussion. It doesn’t matter that there’s nothing between us; there shouldn’t be any questions left for anyone else.”
– But my brother!
“I’ll solve everything,” he answers immediately.
— I have one last condition left.
“You won’t set conditions for me, baby,” he grins insolently.
“Yes?” I fold my arms across my chest. “Then let’s go to the mullah right now and ask him to separate us.”
