Mubarak walked into the house, having just returned from Isha prayer. Since dropping off his sister at the airport, he hadn't seen Zainab, and he assumed she was still avoiding him.
Curious, Mubarak bypassed his own room and headed to Zainab's. He approached her door, expecting to find her inside, but to his surprise, it was locked - just like the day before.
Mubarak knocked softly on Zainab's door, yearning for a peaceful conversation. Zainab, lying on her bed, ignored him, her distrust evident.
"Zainab, are you there? Please open the door, let's talk," Mubarak pleaded, but she remained silent.
Mubarak knocked repeatedly, over 10 times, his anxiety growing. When Zainab didn't respond, his frustration boiled over. "She needs to learn a lesson," he thought, furious, as he stormed off to retrieve the spare key.
Zainab's calm was shattered when she heard the door unlock. Her eyes widened in alarm, realizing too late that Mubarak, as the homeowner, would have a spare key. A chill ran down her spine as the door creaked open.
Zainab's eyes widened as Mubarak stormed into her room, his face twisted in fury. "What are you..." she stuttered, rising from bed, but her voice trailed off. Mubarak's anger was palpable, and Zainab could feel the tension building.
Mubarak's anger boiled over, and he thundered, "Didn't you hear me calling you? Didn't you hear me knocking on your door?" His eyes blazed with intensity, and Zainab cowered, intimidated by his fury. She remained silent, frozen in fear.
As Mubarak started stepping towards her, his voice rose to a shout. "Didn't you?! Answer me, Zainab!" The loudness startled Zainab, and she jumped off the bed, retreating to the other side of the room. She desperately sought to escape his wrath, her heart racing with fear.
Mubarak's deliberate strides closed the distance between them, his presence intensifying Zainab's fear. With each step, the air seemed to thicken, making it harder for Zainab to breathe.
She retreated, her back pressed against the wall, as if trying to escape the suffocating tension. But Mubarak's hands slapped against the wall on either side of her, trapping her. Zainab froze, her heart racing with fear, as she became acutely aware of how dangerously close they were.
Zainab's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to process the unfolding events. Her mind reeled in shock, unable to think clearly as her worst fear became a terrifying reality. With no escape route in sight, Zainab felt trapped and helpless.
Mubarak's piercing gaze locked onto Zainab's, searching for reaction and seeking a response. His voice was steady and firm as he asked, "Didn't you?". Zainab panic even more.
Mubarak's gaze held hers, his expression unreadable. He had grown tired of her evasions and wanted to confront the fear that drove her to flee.
Mubarak had been trying to be patient with Zainab, acknowledging he was the one who wronged her. However, her extreme reactions - fleeing and avoiding him - had worn thin. Now, with him standing close, he wanted to see how she would react.
Mubarak's piercing gaze held Zainab in a silent grip. When she failed to respond, his frustration erupted, and he thundered again, "Didn't you?" Zainab's resolve cracked under the pressure, and she nodded hastily, her eyes wide with fear.
Her fear was palpable, and Mubarak's proximity only intensified it.
But as she looked down, tears began to fall, streaming down her cheeks. Mubarak's expression faltered, and he quickly backed away, giving Zainab the space she desperately needed.
Mubarak was consumed by a crushing sense of guilt, regret washing over him as he realized he had gone too far. He hadn't meant for things to spiral out of control, but his actions had led to this moment.
Zainab's eyes were now brimming with tears, her emotional state a stark reminder of the pain he had caused. Her distress only amplified Mubarak's remorse, leaving him feeling ashamed.
Mubarak gently ordered Zainab to sit, pointing to the bed near him. She obeyed, still sniffling, and made her way to the bed. As she sat, her tears continued to flow, though subtly. Mubarak sat beside her, relieved that this time, she didn't flinch or pull away.
Mubarak pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to Zainab. She hesitated for a moment, then slowly accepted it. Mubarak waited patiently as Zainab wiped away her tears.
With a sincere tone, he apologized, "I am sorry, Zainab." He paused, his eyes locked on hers, and added, "Please forgive me."
Mubarak's voice was filled with remorse as he apologized, "And regarding marriage to you, I am more than sorry, Zainab. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." But Zainab remained silent, her expression unreadable.
Mubarak's eyes pleaded with her as he continued, "I know you see me as a person who forced you into marriage, but please, give me a chance to prove to you that I'm not that bad of a person." His tone was sincere, filled with a deep longing for redemption and understanding.
Mubarak's voice was laced with sincerity as he spoke to Zainab. "I promise I won't touch you again without your consent. I didn't mean for things to escalate like this. Since you arrived, all I've wanted is to have a peaceful conversation and gain a better understanding of each other."
He looked at Zainab's downcast face, his eyes filled with remorse. "Please, feel free and comfortable in this house. You don't have to run away or avoid me anymore." Mubarak's tone was gentle, urging Zainab to understand.
"Understand?" he asked, seeking confirmation. Zainab nodded subtly, and Mubarak's face softened. "Okay, good. Thank you, Zainab," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
As Mubarak exited the room, Zainab felt a wave of relief wash over her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down and process the intense scene that had just unfolded. Her mind replayed the events, and she couldn't help but think that if Mubarak had wanted to harm her, he could have done so easily. The realization sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her feeling vulnerable.
Despite the fear that lingered, Zainab found herself surprisingly trusting Mubarak. She acknowledged that he could have taken advantage of her, but he hadn't. This thought brought her a sense of gratitude for that.
Zainab's gaze drifted off as her brother Alamin's name flashed on her phone screen. She was momentarily torn, wondering whether to answer the call.
Memories of their past conversation resurfaced, and Zainab recalled the pain she felt when she called Alamin to share her distress about their brother Yusuf arranging her marriage without her consent, as well as Zara's situation with Lukman. However, Alamin had remained silent on the phone. To make matters worse, he had visited their home the following day, spoken to Zara about her marriage, and departed without addressing Yusuf about Zainab's concerns or even acknowledging her presence. The memory still lingered, causing her emotional pain.
With a calming breath, Zainab composed herself and decided to answer the call.
"Assalamualaikum, Zainab, how are you?" Alamin asked, his voice gentle over the phone. Zainab's response was brief and curt. "I'm fine," she said, her tone betraying her true emotions. The hurt and anger she still felt from their past encounter lingered, and her short response was a clear indication that she was still upset.
Alamin's voice was laced with remorse as he apologized, "I am sorry, Zainab, I know I offended you, please forgive me, dear." Zainab's silence was a clear indication that she was still hurt. Normally, she would have greeted him warmly and launched into a story or shared some news, but when she was upset, she became reserved.
Alamin sensed her anger and prodded her gently, "Zainab, please say something. Are you still upset with me?" Zainab finally broke her silence, her tone laced with sarcasm as she joked, "Why would I be upset with you?" The irony in her voice was unmistakable, and Alamin knew he still had work to do to make amends.
Alamin hummed softly, a gentle sound that preceded his offer. "Zainab, please, what do you want? Tell me anything you want, I can get it for you as long as it's within my power," he asked, his voice sincere. This was a familiar approach, one that they had used in the past to resolve their disagreements.
Zainab's laughter was a welcome response, and she said calmly, "It's okay, Yaya." Her tone had shifted, and she now sounded more at peace. Alamin's relief was palpable as he let out a happy sigh. He wanted to make sure she was truly okay, so he asked again, "Are you sure, Zainab?" Zainab reassured him, "Yes, Yaya."
"Okay, thank you, dear," Alamin said, relieved that the tension had eased. He then shifted his attention to their sister, asking, "So, Zainab, how is Zara? How is she doing?" Zainab replied simply, "She's fine."
Alamin probed further, seeking reassurance. "Are you sure, Zainab? When was the last time you spoke to her?" Zainab's response was confident, "I'm sure. I spoke to her this morning."
"In the morning"Alamin repeated Zainab's words, "Okay," and then made another request, "Can you please call and ask how she's doing now, but don't tell her I asked you to?" Zainab was frustrated, "Yaya, please, why are you doing this? Please call her yourself."
Zainab thought about how Zara had tried to reach Alamin numerous times, calling him over 100 times without getting a response. She wanted them to resolve their issues directly. Alamin's voiced changed, and he asked, "Zainab, am I the one you're talking to like this?" His tone implied surprise at her bold response.
Zainab's tone shifted to one of pleading, "Oh, sorry Yaya, but please call her, please. Why are you..." But before she could finish, Alamin abruptly cut the call, leaving Zainab with no chance to continue her appeal.
Zainab tried calling Alamin repeatedly, but his line was now unreachable. She set the phone aside, a mix of concern on her face.
She was certain that Alamin was not only upset with her but also eager to avoid a confrontation about his issues with Zara.
_____
It was late at night, after the Isha prayer, and Zara was feeling anxious about being alone. Lukman's frustrating behavior had already put her on edge, and despite the presence of a gateman at the house, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.
As the minutes ticked by, Zara wondered if she should call her family to let them know what was going on. But she hesitated, worried about the potential consequences of involving them. Her anxiety continued to build as the hours passed.
Just as Zara was starting to feel overwhelmed, she heard a knock at the door. She felt a surge of relief, thinking that Lukman had finally come to his senses and decided to return home. But as she opened the door, her expectation was shattered. To her surprise, it wasn't Lukman standing on the other side.
The person standing at the door was a woman, likely in her late 20s, who greeted Zara with a warm "Assalamualaikum". Zara returned the greeting, curious about the woman's identity. "Who are you?" she asked.
The woman smiled and introduced herself as Nafisat, explaining that Sir Lukman had sent her to help Zara sleep. Zara's expression softened, and she stepped aside to let Nafisat in. As Nafisat entered the house, Zara felt a wave of relief wash over her. At least Lukman was still thinking of her, she thought, feeling a sense of reassurance after hours of worrying about the worst possible scenarios.
Zara's curiosity got the better of her, and she asked Nafisat, "Where is he? Did you meet him?" Nafisat shook her head, explaining, "No, ma'am. I didn't meet him directly. Someone connected me to him, and they called me to ask me to come here."
Thank you was all Zara could say, her gratitude sincere but brief. The woman smiled warmly in response and continued into the house.
As she moved further in, the woman turned to Zara and said, "Your house is beautiful, ma'am." Zara's attention was drawn back to her surroundings, and she realized that she had barely noticed the house since her arrival. Lukman's frustrating behavior had consumed her thoughts, leaving her little time to think about her new home.
"Thanks again," Zara said, smiling a bit at the woman. "But you can call me Zara," she added
Nafisat turned to Zara and asked, "Can I assist you with anything?" Zara simply shook her head, lost in thought. Undeterred, the woman continued her quiet inspection of the house, checking the parlour and then moving on to the kitchen. She noted that everything was spotless, as if the kitchen hadn't been used before.
She returned to the parlour, her eyes scanning the room before coming to rest on the dining area. She checked the food flasks and found that they all contained untouched food. Even the plate that had been set out remained uneaten. Her concern growing, the woman approached Zara, who was still seated in the parlour, lost in thought. "Have you eaten?" she asked gently.
Realization hit Zara that she hadn't eaten anything since morning. She remained quiet, unsure of how to respond to the Nafisat's question. Zara had always struggled with her appetite when she was worried, and she didn't know why it affected her that way.
Unlike her sister Zainab, who always prioritized food no matter how worried or hungry she was, Zara found it hard to eat when she was anxious. The woman, Nafisat, seemed to sense Zara's hunger and took her silence as a cue to take action.
Nafisat went to warm up some pasta, which looked fresher than the other food options. She served it to Zara, placing the steaming plate in front of her. "Please, eat your food," Nafisat encouraged, her voice gentle.
With Nafisat's encouragement, Zara managed to finish her meal. Afterwards, Nafisat efficiently cleared the remaining food, eating some herself and giving the rest to the gateman to distribute to those in need. She then washed the dishes and tidied up the kitchen before returning to the parlour to check on Zara.
As bedtime approached, Zara showed Nafisat to the guest room, inviting her to rest there for the night. With a grateful smile, Nafisat settled into the room, and Zara bid her goodnight before retiring to her own room.