The Twins Chapter 14
By the afternoon, Zara felt thirsty and decided to step out of her room. She hadn't ventured out much since completing her daily routine, and she hadn't seen Lukman all day. Unlike before, she had made no effort to look for him.
All the things she used to do for him—cleaning his room, cooking his meals, washing his clothes, and dressing up to catch his attention—she had skipped today. After all, he never asked for any of it, nor did he ever show appreciation.
As she entered the kitchen, Zara paused. There he was, Lukman, standing by the cooker and cooking something. She swallowed hard, willing herself to stay composed. She reminded herself of her decision to stop going out of her way for him.
Zara walked to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and left the kitchen without so much as a glance in Lukman's direction. Her demeanor was calm, detached—completely unlike her usual self.
Lukman's gaze followed her until she disappeared through the doorway. This wasn't the Zara he was used to. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought and returned his focus to the meal he was preparing.
_____
"What is wrong with your twin sister these days?" Atika asked Zainab, her tone filled with mild frustration as she sat opposite her in the parlour.
Zainab said nothing, merely raising her eyebrows, so Anty Atika continued.
"I've invited her to my house twice now, but she keeps giving me excuses, saying she won't be able to come," Atika complained, her voice tinged with disappointment.
Zainab opened her mouth to respond but froze when she saw Mubarak's call flashing on her phone screen.
"Oh no," she muttered, cutting the call as she quickly stood up.
She was really late. When she prayed earlier, she'd promised herself she'd leave on time. But as always, she got caught up chatting with Anty Atika.
"I need to go," she said hurriedly, grabbing her bag. She bid Atika goodbye and walked away.
"Hope I've tried today?" Zainab asked Mubarak with a sheepish smile as she slipped into the car.
Mubarak gave her a pointed look. "You're still late. You kept me waiting for almost an hour. But better than usual," he admitted with a small sigh.
"I'm sorry," Zainab said sincerely, glancing at him.
"I'm not accepting that. You have to be punished," Mubarak told her, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.
Zainab blinked, unsure whether to laugh or protest. "Punished? Really?"
"Yes, my dear," Mubarak said witha grinned.
"Okay, how?" Zainab asked curiously.
"I want you to tell me about your life, until we reach the shop," Mubarak replied, starting the car.
Zainab smiled. "That's all? It's easy".
As they drove off, Zainab began her story, sharing tales of her childhood, Zara, her brothers Yusuf and Alamin, her sister-in-law Hafsat, and her best friends Safiyya, Safina, and Safeera. Mubarak listened intently, his eyes on the road, a smile on his face.
As Zainab continued talking, she talk about her male friends, Mubarak suddenly put a stop to the conversation.
"That's enough," Mubarak said, his voice firmer than usual.
Zainab looked at him, confused. "What? Why?" she asked innocently, not realizing what she had said that could upset him.
Mubarak's mood shifted, his expression darkening. He didn't say anything, but the tension in the car was palpable. Zainab, sensing the change, became silent, unsure of what had gone wrong. She had no idea that mentioning other males, even casually, was something that bothered him.
The rest of the drive was quiet, with Mubarak's annoyance lingering in the air. Zainab kept glancing at him, but didn't speak, unsure of what to say or do.
As they arrived at the shop, Zainab, hoping to lighten the mood, suggested something.
"Can we choose matching outfits?" she asked, glancing at a couple in the store who were wearing coordinated clothes. "I think it would be cute."
Mubarak's face softened at her suggestion. The thought of matching outfits seemed to help shift his mood.
They spent the next hour shopping, picking out clothes. Zainab picked out a few outfits she liked for them, particularly school supplies for herself. Mubarak agreed to it all, and the tension between them seemed to fade as they shared small smiles.
After finishing their shopping, they grabbed groceries and headed home.
Once they were back, they decided to cook together, a simple meal but one that felt special because of the time spent preparing it.
___
After the Isha prayer, Zara and Nafisat were seated in the parlor, enjoying each other's company. Zara reclined comfortably on the couch while Nafisat sat on the floor, carefully placing Zara's legs across her lap on top of a cloth.
Nafisat was helping Zara trim her toenails, a task that was made lighthearted by their shared laughter and chatter.
"Thank you," Zara said with a warm smile when Nafisat finished.
"You're welcome," Nafisat replied, glancing up at Zara.
Earlier, Nafisat had already washed Zara's hair and called someone to braid it, giving Zara a fresh new look for school. Zara felt relaxed and at ease, barely paying Lukman any mind today.
Nafisat's favorite chore in the house was taking care of her madam, Zara. She even secretly wished Zara would let her do more of it. There was a sense of pride and fulfillment in serving someone like Zara.
Zara was a breathtaking woman from head to toe—beautiful, hardworking, and capable of running the entire household effortlessly. Her cleanliness, tidiness, and intelligence were unmatched. Yet, despite all these remarkable qualities, Nafisat always felt that Zara lacked one crucial thing: the wisdom to step away from Lukman when he clearly didn't value her.
Nafisat often found herself wondering why Lukman kept avoiding someone like Zara. "Who else could so easily disregard a woman as incredible as her?" she thought. What puzzled her even more was how Zara used to tirelessly try to win Lukman back, instead of focusing on building her own life away from him.
But thankfully, things have started changing now. Zara had come to her senses. She no longer made any effort to please Lukman or sought his attention. It seemed she had finally realized her worth and decided to focus on herself instead.
Nafisat was deep in thought, reflecting on how far Zara had come, Even though it's just less than a day, she is still proud of Zara, when Zara's voice brought her back to the present moment.
"Now sit down, let me do yours," Zara said, patting the couch and motioning for Nafisat to take a seat.
Nafisat burst out laughing. "No, ma'am Zara! This can't be possible," she joked, reminding Zara of her role as a maid in the house.
"Why not? I have nothing to do now. Please, allow me to," Zara urged, her tone playful yet sincere.
"Please, Zara, stop it," Nafisat said, laughing but clearly a bit shy at the suggestion.
"Not today? Come on, don't be scared. I won't cut you. I used to do this for my sister and even Anty Hafsat, my sister-in-law," Zara assured her, trying to convince her.
They were still teasing and laughing when Lukman walked into the room. Nafisat immediately went silent, her posture stiffening out of respect. Zara, on the other hand, deliberately avoided looking at him, her expression neutral, though her silence spoke volumes.
Lukman went straight to the dining area and made himself a cup of coffee. Unlike other days when Zara would occasionally offer to help him, today, she didn't even glance in his direction. He walked over to the living room and sat on the couch, though he kept a distance from Zara, tuning in to his favorite football match. Nafisat, sensing the tension in the air, quietly excused herself and left the parlor.
Zara, noticing Nafisat's departure, stood up and quietly headed to her room also. It was a familiar routine by now—Lukman often preferred to be alone after Isha prayers, and he never hesitated to let her know when he needed his space.
When Zara entered her room, she realized there was nothing left for her to do. Deciding to call it a day, she reached for her sleeping dress. She was just about to unzip her current outfit when the sound of approaching footsteps made her pause. Turning quickly, she saw Lukman standing at the doorway.
Startled and embarrassed, she froze in place. Thankfully, she hadn't started undressing yet.
"Can't you knock before entering my room?" Zara asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.
Lukman seemed unfazed by her question. "Get ready," he said, his tone firm. "I'm taking you to buy what you need for school."
Zara blinked, momentarily stunned by his unexpected offer. She hadn't seen it coming, and for a second, she didn't know how to respond. Quickly composing herself, she replied, "Oh, I won't be needing that. Nafisat already bought everything I needed earlier today."
Her response was polite but carried an undertone of independence. Zara had grown used to depending on Nafisat for such errands. Ever since she came to live in Lukman's house, it had always been Nafisat who took care of her shopping needs, while Lukman rarely allowed Zara to leave the house.
Even for basic necessities, Lukman had taken to managing things himself, often without consulting her. Zara's words hung in the air, a subtle yet clear reminder of the dynamic they had fallen into—a dynamic she was slowly beginning to detach herself from.
"Hmm, but still, won't you need anything?" Lukman asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"No, I don't think so," Zara replied calmly, her tone unwavering.
Lukman, clearly unconvinced, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Okay, at least keep this with you. You'll be going back to school, and in case you need anything…"
Zara glanced at the card briefly, then shifted her gaze back to him with a composed expression. "Oh, don't worry about this, I already have one, and it's well-funded," she said firmly.
She wasn't bluffing. Her brothers, especially Alamin, had always ensured that her and Zainab's accounts were well taken care of. Even now, despite the strain in their relationship, Alamin hadn't stopped sending her money weekly. Yusuf occasionally contributed as well, leaving Zara with no financial concerns.
"I insist," Lukman said, his tone hardening slightly.
"I don't need it," Zara countered, her voice sharper now.
Lukman stared at her for what felt like an eternity, his gaze steady and unreadable. Finally, he stepped closer, closing the distance between them until he was standing directly in front of her. Zara refused to back down, meeting his eyes boldly, her nostrils flaring with frustration.
"What are you up to, Zara?" Lukman asked, his voice low but pointed.
She broke eye contact, looking away, unwilling to answer.
Without another word, he grabbed her hand, firmly placing the card in her palm.
"You don't have a choice. You have to keep it—it's an order," Lukman told her, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He stepped back.
Zara was in no mood to follow this type of order, especially not today.
She stared at the card in her hand, her jaw tightening as frustration bubbled inside her. Lukman's determined gaze lingered on her, but it did nothing to sway her resolve.
With a sharp inhale, she stepped forward, extended the card toward him, and placed it firmly back into his hand. "I said I don't need it," she said, her voice calm but resolute.
Before he could react, she turned and walked past him, heading straight into the bathroom. The sound of the door closing behind her echoed in the silence.
Lukman stood there for a moment, staring at the card in his hand. His brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tightening in frustration. Zara's defiance wasn't something he was used to, and it left him feeling both irritated and intrigued.
___
After Isha prayer, Mubarak returned home to find the parlour empty. Noticing Zainab's room door closed, he assumed she had retreated to rest or perhaps chat with her friends.
He quietly went to his own room, performed his nafilah prayers, and began praying for his parents, his marriage, their future together, and the hereafter. His focus was deep, his heart pouring out supplications, when suddenly, he felt a delicate hand slip beneath his.
The unexpected touch sent a shiver down his spine. Turning slightly, he saw Zainab beside him, her hands now resting under his as she joined him in prayer.
Mubarak was surprised to see Zainab beside him. She had never done this before—joining him so intimately in prayer. It was unexpected but deeply touching.
She was dressed in a light blue female jalabiya with a matching veil loosely draped on her head. The simplicity and elegance of her outfit perfectly mirrored Mubarak's own light blue male jalabiya, creating an almost symbolic harmony between them.
Zainab had seen Mubarak wearing his attire earlier, which inspired her to choose a the matching outfit.
With her so close, Mubarak tried his best to maintain focus on his prayers, though her presence and their proximity made it a test of concentration. Still, the moment felt profound—a shared connection, not just as husband and wife but as two individuals united in faith and devotion.
When they were done, Mubarak said softly, "Ameen."
"Ameen," Zainab echoed, her voice gentle and serene.
She turned to look at Mubarak, a smile lighting up her face, and he couldn't help but return it. For a moment, silence enveloped them, filled only with the quiet hum of their unspoken emotions. Mubarak wondered what had brought her to his room so late at night today.
Before he could ask, Zainab said, "Let me add something." She raised her hands in silent supplication, her lips moving softly in a heartfelt prayer.
"Ya Allah, keep Mubarak safe for me. Grant him his heart's desires, as long as they are khair for him."