Are you Angry

Are you Angry


Queenie sighed, the sound heavy with resignation and something that might have been regret. "I'm sorry I overstepped my boundaries, it won't happen again," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at the marble floor beneath her feet.

Jamal looked at her for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable as they studied her face. Without saying any other thing he made his way upstairs, his footsteps echoing through the quiet mansion like a drumbeat counting down to some inevitable conclusion.

"Remember your place Queenie, always remember that this marriage is fake don't get too carried away," she muttered to herself as she followed Jamal behind, her own voice sounding hollow and strange in the empty hallway. The words were meant to be a reminder, a shield against the confusing emotions that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

On getting to their room, she walked to the wardrobe without sparing him a glance, her movements mechanical and distant. After picking up her nightie she made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click that seemed to emphasize the growing distance between them.

Few minutes later she was done with her bath and came out of the bathroom, steam following her like ghostly fingers that dissipated quickly in the cooler air of the bedroom. Her hair was damp against her shoulders, and she moved with the careful precision of someone trying very hard not to think about the person watching her.

The silence in the room made the atmosphere feel heavy and awkward, like a weight pressing down on both of them from the ornate ceiling above. Queenie walked past Jamal who was sitting on a couch as he operated on his phone, the blue glow from the screen casting strange shadows across his features.

Jamal removed his eyes from his phone as he watched her lie on the bed, pulling the expensive silk sheets around herself like armor. There was something in the way she moved, something that spoke of hurt and withdrawal that he found himself wanting to understand despite his better judgment.

"Aren't you going to eat dinner," he finally spoke, breaking the silence, his voice cutting through the quiet like a stone dropped into still water.

"I'm not hungry," Queenie said as she covered herself with the duvet, turning her back to him in a gesture that was clearly meant to end the conversation before it could truly begin.

Jamal sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he studied her still form on the bed. He knew deep down he shouldn't be bothered about how she felt, shouldn't care whether she ate or slept or spoke to him at all.

But he couldn't help the feeling in his heart, it was something he couldn't explain, something that seemed to grow stronger every time he tried to push it away. The concern felt foreign and unwelcome, like an intruder in the carefully constructed walls he'd built around his emotions.

"Are you angry," he asked, the words coming out more quietly than he'd intended, carrying a vulnerability he wasn't sure he wanted her to hear.

"Why would you think so," Queenie asked, her voice muffled by the pillow she'd buried her face in.

Jamal chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. "Seriously, you're replying to a question with a question," he asked, frustration creeping into his voice as he tried to navigate this unfamiliar emotional territory.

But Queenie kept mute she didn't bother to reply, her silence stretching between them like a chasm that seemed to grow wider with each passing second.

"We should go eat dinner you skipped lunch you shouldn't skip dinner," he said dropping his phone by his side, the device forgotten as his attention focused entirely on the woman who was doing her best to pretend he didn't exist.

"And why would you be concerned if I ate or not," Queenie asked, not looking at him, her voice carrying an edge of challenge that hadn't been there before.

"Because you're my wife," he said, the words coming out before he'd thought them through, carrying more weight and meaning than he'd intended.

"Sounds more like a joke, I think you've forgotten something, this marriage is nothing but a business arrangement," Queenie said, finally turning to look at him with eyes that seemed to see right through his carefully maintained facade.

"So I don't think you should concern yourself with my personal matters," she continued, her voice steady despite the way her heart was racing at the intensity of his gaze.

Jamal looked at her for a while, something shifting in his expression as her words hit home. The reminder of the contract, of the temporary nature of their arrangement, seemed to physically pain him in a way he wasn't prepared for.

"I think I forgot the rules for a moment," he said before standing up, his movements sharp and controlled as he tried to put physical distance between them and the uncomfortable emotions she was stirring up.

"Also I have one request," Queenie said, her voice stopping him in his tracks like an invisible hand reaching out to hold him in place.

Jamal stopped in his tracks to look at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden shift in her tone. "What's the problem," he asked, something in her voice telling him he wasn't going to like what she was about to say.

"I need a personal room, I don't think it's proper for us to be sleeping in the same room," she said, her words falling into the silence like stones into deep water, creating ripples that spread through the space between them.

"Where's this idea coming from," Jamal asked surprised by what she said, his voice carrying a note of something that might have been panic beneath the surface confusion.

Queenie finally turned to look at him fully, her eyes meeting his with a directness that made him feel exposed and vulnerable. "I'm only trying to protect my heart and by doing that I need space that should help," she said, her honesty cutting through the pretense like a blade through silk.

Jamal chuckled softly, but the sound was bitter and self-aware. "I think you're turning my own words against me," he said, recognizing the echo of his earlier warnings about keeping things professional.

"No I'm not, I'm only trying to do what I think is best for myself," she said, her voice carrying the quiet strength of someone who had made a difficult decision and was determined to stick with it.

"I disagree with that," Jamal said, his voice firm despite the uncertainty he was feeling inside.

"But I agree with it," Queenie said, matching his firmness with her own quiet determination.

"The contract states I have full right to you, you signed it remember," he said, playing the only card he had left, the legal document that bound them together in this strange arrangement.

"I'm not denying that but, I'm trying to make everyone stay on a safe side," Queenie replied, her voice steady despite the way her hands were trembling beneath the covers.

"So that we won't interrupt each other's business. I need my personal space," she continued, each word carefully chosen and delivered with the precision of someone who had thought this through completely.

"That's not going to happen, not now not ever," he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who was used to getting his way in every situation.

"Even if it doesn't happen now it can still happen later," Queenie said, her voice taking on a note of finality that made his chest tighten with an emotion he refused to name.

"I can't be with you forever. All I pray is for the revenge plan to go smoothly that way I'll be out of your life and we'll act like we never knew each other," she said, each word hitting him like a physical blow.

"That's what you stated," she finished, her voice quiet but filled with the kind of pain that came from accepting a truth she wished wasn't real.