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Chapter Thirteen ♥ "Payback"

                                        Chapter Thirteen

                                        “Payback”

 

“Mahra”

I sat there facing Fatima in her cabin, and telling her the tale of my mistreatment this past week. She was a patient listener and a really good nodder, always gasping and frowning at the right times. Her sympathetic reaction and those awed eyes comforted and somehow encouraged me to share such a secret with her. I don’t know why but I liked having someone on my side, someone who’d listen to me without judging me. Someone, a friend!

When I finished my story, she grew silent and simply stared at me. After a short pause she apologized. For what? I seriously don’t know. May be because she felt sorry for me, friends do that, right? But I am damn sure if I were her, I’d probably be abusing Noorah. But seems like Fatima is my total opposite!

“I can’t believe she did that? I didn’t know she was that jealous.” She finally said the words that comforted me. I sighed and nodded.

“I didn’t know either. If she was that desperate about Khalifah then to hell with both of them, she can go on and have him, but why would she say such things on my character? And to who? To my own sister!” I hissed and was about to complete but her expressions didn’t encourage me. Looks like she knew if I carried on, I would lose my cool.

“How do you think she knew about the proposal?” She questioned after a while.

“How else do you think she’ll know? Her side-kick, Hissa saw me and Khalifah talking that day.” I remembered seeing Hissa standing by the hallway door the day when Khalifah had proposed. I rolled my eyes and decided not to worry about that now, now that it was over, and me and my siblings were in good terms.

“What about the promise you made with your brother? Are you seriously going to accept the next man who comes your way?” Fatima asked, innocently. May be it was her expressions or my own wild thoughts that made me smile then, which confused her. “What?” She added, a little put off.

“I think when the time comes, I am just going to emotionally blackmail him.” We both laughed at that, “He has a really good heart, he won’t pressurize me.” I stated, with a smirk. She looked at me as if I were crazy.

“Don’t you ever think that they might be right about the whole marriage thing? And you might regret it later in life?” She said it more like a statement and less like a question.  I frowned.

“Even if I did regret it, it’ll be my decision. I don’t want to regret someone else’s decision that was thrust upon me.” I stood up to get to work. It was time someone notices and chastises us for this little chit-chat during working hours.

“Be careful.” Fatima’s serious voice warned. Suddenly, the look in her eyes had changed and she seemed a lot more mature now. “Mahra, you really have been too spoiled, and haven’t seen life’s cruelty. But you should know when reality hits, it hits really hard.  It opens blind eyes and hurts young hearts.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, mother.” I ridiculed.

We stared at each other for a good two minutes and then I left her without saying a word. I noticed her trying to tell me a message, the same message that Reem and Hamad had been trying to give me. But don’t they think I already know that? Don’t they know I have felt pain as well? Wasn’t I the one who lost both my parents? The one who never saw her birth mother, never heard her voice, never saw her smile. Don’t they think I know how cruel life’s been to me?

And after dad, I was the one who stood up for myself, unlike other girls I didn’t shrink back. I stayed strong. I worked hard and stayed independent. At an age when all fathers teach their kids what to do, I had none but I learned on my own. And even now I want him here. I want him to tell me what’s right ‘cause it was only him I listened to. But he isn’t here. He can never be here. I know that ugly truth. How can everyone think life hasn’t hit me hard? How can they think my heart hasn’t ached?

With these thoughts I headed towards the kitchen to get some coffee, and on my way I saw him; Khalifah who seemed to be unaware of Noorah walking behind him. Just Great! It was clear that she was tailing him but upon seeing me she entered the kitchen and Khalifah walked to greet me. The sight of them both had done more damage to my mood than Fatima’s words. And on seeing Noorah’s face. Oh, you won’t know what that face did to me. Suddenly a wicked thought lit in my brain. I hadn’t thought of it before but now I think I wanted revenge.

“Marhaba.” I greeted Khalifah with all the effort I could sum up and plastered a smile on my face.

“Marhabtain, How are you Mahra? You were absent yesterday, what happened?” I looked at him not knowing which of his questions should I answer first.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling that well.” I said. He crooked his eye brow as if that’d help him examine me more closely.

“Why? what’s wrong?” He questioned and I hated the glint of concern in his voice. To be honest right then I just wanted to scream at him and tell him that you are what’s wrong. It was because of your idiotic proposal that did that to me yesterday, but some witty part of me, that I didn’t know existed, had my mouth in control.

“Just a bad headache and a flue.” I lied, Had to. Well, the headache part was true.

“Oh, Salamaat, (Get well soon)” He spoke, relieved.

“Allah Ysalmak.” I flashed him a smile and took a step towards the kitchen, knowing he’ll follow and he did. I stopped and turned to face him, which took him by surprise. We stood close to the kitchen door, because I wanted Noorah to hear what I’ll say next.

“Khalifah,” I began “About that day and what you said.” I saw his eyes shine with hope. Did he actually think I was going to change my mind about him?

“I really am sorry if I caused you any pain. I hope you forgive me, because I don’t want to lose a great friend like you, someone I dearly respect.” I praised, not really meaning it. My words had an instant effect on Khalifah. I saw him stand straighter, his lips twitching into a light smile as he stuffed both his hands into his pockets.

“No, don’t apologize. You have all rights to choose on your own. Nothing’ll be done forcefully.” His last line made me want to laugh at his face but I controlled that little bad habit of mine. I mean seriously, who the hell was he to force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. I wouldn’t let Hamad mess with my life let alone him.

I took a glance inside the kitchen and saw Noorah busying herself with the coffee machine. I knew Khalifah couldn’t see her but they both were close enough to hear my following words; “There’s something I must tell you,” I started. He nodded in encouragement. I thought a little about my upcoming words because I hadn’t planned this. I needed to do it the right way.

 “Seeing that we both are friends now, I think I should tell you what I know or what I’ve seen.” I saw his eyes narrow and his interest grow.

“What is it?” He asked.

“But you have to promise me you are not going to tell ‘her’.” There, I had started the game. Khalifah stared at me with a questioning look and then promised me he’ll keep my secret.

“One of our colleagues and a very good friend of mine,” I took a breathing space because of my own last words, they made me want to gag. “She seems to have a great deal of interest in you.” I paused again to let my words sink in his brain, and then with a fake smile I added; “I am telling you this because I knew no one else would, and you are a great friend. I thought I should let you know.”

Khalifah was silent. The look on his face was a mixture of surprise and curiosity. And somewhere at the corner of his brown eyes disappointment exposed him. Some part of my own heart ached for him as well, screaming that he doesn’t deserve it and asking what was his fault? But then my own face from the other day flashed in my brain, those swollen eyes and my siblings doubts, I would only be at ease if I damaged some of Noorah’s confidence.

“Trust me Khalifah, Noorah is a great girl.” This seemed to surprise him the most. I always thought he kind of knew about Noorah’s feelings for him, but looking at his face and those aghast eyes, I must’ve been wrong. I heard some moment in the kitchen and knew that the earth must’ve been swept under Noorah’s feet but she was smart enough to stay put and not get herself in this embarrassing situation.

Khalifah seemed to be at a loss for words. He didn’t like what I told him, not even one bit. It was written all over his face. But still just for the sake of courtesy he thanked me and walked away, not knowing what he’d do to the information at hand. I could give him many ideas if only he asks!

I heard the tapping of her heels, the rustling of her clothes and turned around to look at a very enraged Noorah, staring icily at me. In other situations I might have been a little timid but now I was enjoying it. She frowned at the smile on my face and I won’t deny that I was exaggerating, a bit.

“Mahra what do you think you are doing?” She growled through gritted teeth.

“What?” I tried to act dumb. “I was helping Khalifah to know how much you really like him. I know it’s hard for you to tell him yourself.” I played. She looked disgustedly at me.

“Don’t paint yourself with innocence. I know exactly what you were doing!” She yelled.

“Really? If you knew me so well then you shouldn’t have done what you did on the wedding. How dare you feed my sister your false stories?” I spat, my voice shaking with anger.

“Oh, so that’s what all this is about?” Noorah was finally enlightened. “I hope she’s kicked you out of the house. She seemed very disappointed when I told her.” I tried to speak but her words had disturbed my train of thoughts, so to cover it up, I grinned.

“Overconfidence is a disease Noorah.” I pointed out. “You’re lucky I am letting you go with such little damage, I was planning to ruin your life but for now this will do for a payback.”

Noorah faked a smile too, just like the bad guys do in movies, and then said; “You think I’ll just sit back and watch your show.” I turned away from her, feeling as if this was a scene from a movie. Before getting out of her sight I heard her shout; “This isn’t over.” Yes, I was right. This really was a scene from a movie, but then again all womanly fights are.

*'♥♫*

I returned to work for an hour or so, though it was hard to concentrate. I felt content and a little guilty at the same time. The fierce part of me was happy for hurting Noorah but the damaged part of me was feeling guilty. Somewhere in my brain a voice screamed that there really wasn’t any difference between me and Noorah. May be that voice belonged to my mother. May be!

Around 12:45 I realized I was hungry. Those two life-ruiners didn’t even let me make myself a coffee, earlier. Fatima was busy so I decided to go for lunch alone, ignoring the voice of guilt of course. I tried to tell myself that what I did was right. If I hadn’t given Noorah a payback, she wouldn’t consider me a threat at all and would probably repeat trying to hurt me. This act might make her hesitate the next time she tries. For some reason, I knew she was going to try. She isn’t going to let this go!

Hamad called on my way to the elevator, he was angry I must add. I had taken his car today without letting him know. I tried to joke around a little to lighten his mood as I waited for the elevator. When the doors opened, I looked up and saw Mr. Zayed. He stood there like a snowman or like a Roman statue all dressed in white, But his eyes were alive.

I caught a breath as if I’d be suffocated there alone with him, as if there was no air in the elevator. The moment I got in, I hated the silence that rang louder than any sound around us. I was sure he didn’t hear it but it was killing me, so as I normally do, I started small conversation. The only normal thing that I could ask him would be about his father, someone who we both knew.

“It’s been a long time we haven’t seen your fa…” I stopped mid-sentenced, thinking using the ‘father’ word might make me look unprofessional. “Mr. Waleed.” I completed, making a fool of myself, but that had kind of become a habit. Anyways who cares what impression I set on him.

Instead of replying, he turned to me a bit surprised at my question. I stared back in his eyes and noticed that his eyes resembled his father’s soft ones. But unlike him, Zayed’s eyes were harsh, bitter and sharp, and so was the energy around him. I sometimes tried to look beyond my own prejudice eyes and find some good in him, but he made it real hard. One example was this; he still hadn’t answered my question!

He stared at me coldly, seconds before the elevator doors opened and when they did, he finally answered my question. I had turned to look away from him, unable to keep up with that powerful gaze. These few seconds might have been the longest seconds of my life. I had a feeling that I was claustrophobic to elevators.

The doors opened and brought us the cold air that lingered in the office. The ‘gentleman’ allowed me to leave first and followed me to the exit doors. As we walked though a corridor, we both fell in step. He might have picked up my step and I was sure that he didn’t realize it. We walked side-by-side to a fixed rhythm. The only difference was that his footsteps were quiet but my heels tapped on the floor. Just like our personalities.

 *'♥♫*

One week later

 

After performing the Maghrib prayer, Zayed sat there on the prayer mat for a bit longer, facing the direction of Qibla. He felt at ease now, for a few minutes away from the world’s aged misery. Standing there in front of God, his heart was filled with hope. He raised his hands up and then pleaded God for his father’s good health because he knew that there is a greater one who always listens.

It was silent until he heard noises from downstairs. Almost all of his family had come to see his father after he had his first dialysis treatment. Last week when Zayed took his father to the hospital, after doing a blood test, a chemistry screen and an ultrasound, they found out that he had an acute kidney injury and would have to do dialysis, weekly. The kidney failure had been caused by the pills Waleed took for his diabetes.

The whole family was devastated to hear such a news. Waleed was the oldest of the family, the one who kept them all together and seeing him unwell was…heartbreaking for everyone.

Without any warning things had started to change very quickly in Zayed’s life. Taking over work, fathers bad health, sister’s relationship with best friend and his own marriage to a person he had never even considered before. From the past few weeks, Zayed would see the same hopeful look in his father’s eyes and he hated himself for not making him happy, for not giving him what he wanted. Zayed had thought that Mahra and her problems along with her, were the least of his worries but he was wrong. She is the only problem he had!

So now with hands raised high in prayer, he wished for guidance. He prayed that his decisions, whatever they may be, shouldn’t hurt anyone.

After prayer he placed the matt on a nearby sofa and sat on the bed. His phones along with his other belongings, were placed there as well. Zayed checked his phone for any missed calls and saw five, three of them were from Hamad-he had been ignoring him a lot these days- and the other two were from his younger brother Jassim, who had also left a text message saying. “The guests are here.” He also had to pick up his uncle, Badr, from the airport. Who came from America because of Waleed. Zayed couldn’t wait to see him, the only person who shoulders his pain. With a deep sigh of exhaustion, he slipped his phone in his pocket and got out of the room.

There standing right in front of him was a girl he hadn’t seen in a long time, Shoug, his cousin, Rashid’s sister. She and Mona were getting out of Mona’s room that faced Zayed’s. They were laughing on something but when her eyes fell on Zayed she froze and her smile faded. Shoug and Zayed’s couple was popular in Zayed’s mother’s family. Seeing as Shoug was her brother’s daughter, Umm Zayed always wished she be her daughter-in-law. But Waleed had never encouraged her wishes, nor did Zayed.

Looking at her now was different than how he looked at her when they were young. Zayed never considered poor Shoug great enough to spare some attention, and ever since they were young, he knew he had a special place in her heart. He also knew he was supposed to lower his gaze when he looked at her not wearing her shailah, but he couldn’t help his eyes from examining her features. Her long black hair were darker than coal and almost lower her waist line. She was also wearing a lot of make-up coming to a dinner like this.

When Mona spotted him too, she dragged Shoug along to come say ‘Hi’ because just like her mother Mona too was in favor for Shoug. Zayed turned around to close the door of his room, as an excuse to hide his smile at the effort Shoug had done for these particular situations only. He thought she’d use this time to cover her hair but was wrong. When he faced the girls again he saw her looking at him, confidently and was even bold enough to throw back her bangs when their eyes met.

“Hello, big brother. You remember Shoug. Don’t you?” Mona said, cheerfully. Zayed averted his gaze from his cousin and tried to keep them on his sister. ‘Behind that make-up it was hard to tell’ Zayed wanted to say but then thought better off it.

“Yeah, ‘course. How have you been doing?” He glanced at Shoug, who stared admiringly at him.

“Great,”

“Mona, are you coming from a wedding or something?” He taunted, intending to embarrass Shoug because he didn’t like the way she was dressed and walked so freely in their house. Mona opened her mouth to say something when another feminine voice came from behind them.

“I hope you remember me, cousin?!” They all turned and saw a girl in her mid-teens, smiling at Zayed as she walked towards him. It wasn’t too hard to realize who she was. There was only one person in this family who looked like Umm Zayed.

“Do you really think I will forget the one who has my mother’s eyes?” Zayed said, to his cousin who came forward and shook hands with him. He noticed how decently she was dressed unlike her sister.

“I thought you wouldn’t.” Zainab said, with a smile and took a glance at the girls. One of them wasn’t too happy with her sister’s interference.

“If not for those eyes, I wouldn’t have recognized you.” Ever since Zainab was born, she had been a favorite to Zayed and everybody else because she looked like his mother.

“Aunt Khadeejah says I look more like her every day, and my sisters are jealous.” The young girl joked making Zayed smile. Shoug elbowed her sister which made Zainab giggle.

Zayed turned away and headed for the stairs followed by the girls, “I think mother is right,” He said a little loudly, so that Shoug could hear him. “You really are growing to be like her.” Zainab proudly came and walked beside him, followed by Shoug and Mona.

“Zayed, don’t forget I am still here.” Mona shouted, from behind them. He smiled and didn’t reply.

“How old are you Zainaboo?” He asked, as they descended the stairs.

“Seventeen!” Was Zainab’s quick answer, but it surprised Zayed.

“Seventeen? You were only eight when I left and that was five years ago.”

“No, I wasn’t,” the girl replied. “I was twelve then.” Zayed turned to look at her. He couldn’t believe how much Zainab had grown up. “And how tall are you?” He watched how she easily reached his shoulders.

“5’8”

“Already? You’re taller than Jassim even though he’s two years older than you.” Zayed laughed.

“Yeah, I keep teasing him about that and he hates me when I do so.” She giggled. Zayed then turned to Mona and asked whether there were any unknown ladies in the hall, if so then he’d head straight to the Maylis (Guest room.)

“There’s no one there except Ameerah.” growled Mona. Ameerah was Shoug’s older sister, and the reason why they didn’t attach her name with Zayed, was because she was spoken for one of her cousins ever since she was young. 

When they reached the hall, Zayed looked around and saw only woman staring back at him. But thankfully Mona was right, they were all from family. An elderly woman sat at the right corner of the hall, next to Umm Zayed, and she smiled lovingly at her grandson, when her eyes fell on him. Zayed walked directly to his grandmother. The only old person he had in his mother’s family.

“Salaam Alaikum.” He said, loudly and heard a collective reply from the women around him. As he got closer to his grandmother, he kissed her forehead first, asking about her health and then he took her right hand and kissed it too. As he did so, the only thing he heard her do was blessing him with her prayers, something all grandparents do.

He thought it right to sit by her for awhile, and held her hand in his. He knew what his grandmother’s up-coming words would be. “Where have you been, son? You don’t come to visit.” She began complaining as predicted. Zayed smiled and averted his eyes from her to his mother who sat next to his grandmother. She was smiling at him, which he returned. Zayed apologized to his grandmother and said that he has been busy but she still kept complaining. “Days pass,” she said, “But work never ends. On the contrary it keeps piling up every day. But that doesn’t mean we won’t take some time out for family, because families are much more important.” She lectured, making him grin. He gently rubbed her hand and kissed it again.

“I know, I am at fault here, grandma. Forgive me!” Zayed thought surrendering to her would be easier than giving excuses. And it worked, she began examining his face and said; “Didn’t they feed you well in America, you’ve lost a lot of weight.” She stated, and Zayed heard all the girls in the room giggling and laughing.

He smiled too, shifting a little in his seat. “You’re embarrassing me in front of the girls, old woman.” He joked, making his grandmother laugh, which was gentler than the girls’ laughter.

“Yeah, grandma. You can’t disrespect him in front of people like that. He’s become a business man now.” shouted Laylah, his older sister, from the other corner of the room. Zayed looked up to see her sitting next to his aunt, Fozia, his father’s only sister. He got up to meet her. It had been a long time he didn’t see her.

After the greetings and the formalities, he asked about her sons and the only daughter that she just had. “Where’s the female hire? the only sister to her brothers. Where’s your daughter?” He asked her. His aunt Fozia smiled and sent Kholoud to bring her from guest room where she was sleeping.

Zayed came to take his seat next to his grandmother. He wanted to go see his father and then go receive his uncle Badr from the airport. Ever since Badr had known about his older brother’s bad health he had been devastated and suggested he comes and takes him to America with him.

“When is your uncle going to arrive?” asked Umm Zayed.

“In two hours. Where’s father?” Zayed questioned.

“He was in the Majlis, but Jassim brought him back to his room because he was tired.” Umm Zayed replied. Right when she had finished her words, Zayed saw a little creature, smiling right at him. She was covered in a pink blanket in which Kholoud had wrapped her. Her tiny hands were free, moving in all directions.  The baby was smiling adorably at him, which made him smile too.

Kholoud got a little closer and held the baby to him. This took Zayed off guard he didn’t know what to do with it. “Pick her up. She doesn’t weigh that much.” Kholoud said, sounding tired. But Zayed was hesitant, he would control his car's steering wheel with his knees only but picking up a newly born baby was different. Umm Zayed got up that instant and picked the girl up from kholoud. She then slowly but very carefully placed her in his arms.

He noticed that the baby was smaller than both his hands. She was too small, too soft, he feared she might break. After a few seconds of looking at her, he placed a kiss at her forehead and looked at his aunt. “What did you name her?”

“Her father named her Mahra.” She answered and for a moment Zayed kept staring at her and then back the baby girl, Mahra.

*'♥♫*

After taking his leave from the ladies, Zayed made his way to his father’s room which had been shifted downstairs. He knocked at the door very quietly and got in to see his father sleeping in his bed. Waleed opened his eyes when he heard him come in. Zayed greeted and sat on the chair beside his bed.

“How are you feeling father? Mother said you were tired.” He spoke, in a hushed tone.

“No, I am all right.”

“Have you had your medicine?”

“Yeah, Laylah helped me with those.” Waleed asked, weakly. “When are you leaving to receive Badr?”

“In a while,” Zayed checked the time in his watch. “Your brother’s not going to leave you here.” He said with a light smile.

“What do you mean?”

“He insists he’ll take you to America,” Zayed saw that made his father smile. “Something about the doctors there makes him more content.” Waleed grinned.

A moments silence passed and Zayed looked at his father who stared back at him. He was staring at him with pure love, but in Zayed’s mind those looks had another meaning. They demanded him to fulfill a wish or maybe it was guilt that led him to think that way.

“Have you given a thought to what I asked you?” Waleed spoke. Zayed grew silent and looked down at his father’s hands.

“I need some time.” were his soft words.

 ~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•~'♥♫•

Hey everyone, thanks to everyone who voted on the last chp. It got 65 votes on wattpad and 3 on Goodreads which is just AWESOME. So Thank you!

And now..

We know, We know, you hate us for being so late. I think we were a bit too late this time too but trust me it wasn't intentionally done. As u guys know it was Ramadan, then Eid and between this time I got sick twice, so I wasn't really able to write. So frogive us! 

Hope ya'll liked chp thirteen. Feel free to ask if u have any confusion with the new characters:)

 ~Lot of L♥ve from the writers

~Witty & Witch

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