The Twins chapter 13
The Next Day
Zainab woke up in the morning, her eyes fluttering open as she reached for her phone. A quick glance at the screen made her sit up abruptly-it was already 9 a.m.
"Oh no, I'm late," she muttered to herself. She had prayed her Fajr earlier but must have dozed off again afterward. Today was their sanitation day, a tradition they had started over the past month, dedicating Saturdays to cleaning the house together.
Although they had housemaids, whom Mubarak had specifically hired to assist Zainab, he insisted on being involved in the house chores whenever he was home. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving her alone with just the gateman and his wife.
Zainab hurriedly left her room and headed to Mubarak's. To her surprise, his room was already spotless, just as it always was. Still, as she looked around the house, it was clear that the sanitation work was already done.
She went in search of him and eventually found him in the laundry room.
"Good morning," Zainab greeted him with a smile, walking to his side.
"Morning, my dear," he replied, glancing at her briefly before returning to his work.
Zainab froze in surprise as she saw what Mubarak was doing. He stood there calmly ironing her clothes, a look of quiet focus on his face.
"Oh, please stop it!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him and attempting to take the iron from his hands.
Mubarak gently moved her hands aside, smiling. "Allow me to finish what I've started. There's just this one left. And honestly, we shouldn't argue so close to a something hot like this, should we?"
Zainab chuckled, shaking her head. "You're really something else."
Mubarak continue to iron with care.
Reluctantly, Zainab stepped back and sighed. "Okay, thank you," she said, watching as he carefully smoothed out the last crease.
Mubarak glanced at her as he turned off the iron. "I figured you'd be hungry when you woke up. Breakfast is ready and waiting in the dining room. You should go eat-I'll join you soon."
Zainab crossed her arms, giving him a warm smile. "You're making it so hard for me to keep up with you."
"Then don't," Mubarak replied without hesitation. "Just let me take care of you. It's all I want to do."
Zainab laughed softly. "You know, my brother said you're spoiling me too much. I think he might be right."
Mubarak smirked, picking up the basket of neatly folded clothes. "Done." he said changing the topic.
Before he could leave, Zainab reached for the basket and took it from him. "This one is mine," she said firmly, placing it back on the table.
"Let's go have breakfast together," she added, her tone light.
Mubarak smiled warmly at her suggestion, setting aside his tasks for now. "Alright, let's go."
___
"Wow, Masha Allah. Thank you for this breakfast, I really like it," Zainab said, smiling at Mubarak as she took a bite of the crispy fried chips and egg he had prepared for her.
"Thank you for liking it, Zainab," Mubarak replied, his tone warm and filled with affection.
As they sat together, enjoying their meal, their plans for the day began to unfold. Yesterday, they had discussed going to the shops for Zainab's school shopping and to stock up on groceries.
"You know," Zainab began, looking at him thoughtfully, "I also want to go to the salon first before anything else."
Mubarak raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't surprised. It was already part of Zainab's routine to change her braid styles every one to two weeks. And as always, Mubarak made it a point to take her to the salon himself.
"That's fine," Mubarak said, nodding. "Let's finish breakfast first."
When they were done eating, Zainab got up to clear the table, but Mubarak joined her. Together, they cleaned the dining area and washed the dishes, despite Zainab's repeated pleas.
"Mubarak, please let me do at least this one task on my own," she said, trying to convince him.
He didn't respond, only smiled and continued rinsing the plates beside her. In the end, they worked together, as always.
Once the dishes were done, Zainab decided to go look for Karima, one of the maids, to help her unbraid her hair. But before she could leave the room, Mubarak stopped her.
"You know, Zainab, I can help you with it," Mubarak said, his tone serious but soft.
Zainab frowned slightly, confused. "Help me with what?"
"I mean, I'll unbraid your hair, wash it for you, and even braid it for you again," Mubarak explained with a smile.
Zainab couldn't hold back her laughter. "No, that won't happen," she said between giggles.
Mubarak raised an eyebrow, amused by her reaction. "Why not? You don't think I can do it?"
"Hmm," Zainab muttered, trying to hide her smile as she composed herself.
"Zainab, I'm serious," Mubarak said, his voice calm but insistent. "I can braid Kalaba. You know, I have a twin sister. I used to help her loosen her hair and braid it for her most of the time before she got married."
Zainab looked at him, still not sure if he was joking. "Really? Okay, I accept... but only on one condition," she said, her voice playful.
"What's the condition?" Mubarak asked, curious.
Zainab blushed slightly, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Only if you catch me," she told him, and before Mubarak could respond, she sprinted toward the parlour.
Mubarak laughed, immediately jumping to his feet and following her.
The chase through the parlour began, Zainab quickly grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him to block his path. She darted around the furniture, giggling as Mubarak chased after her, trying to catch her. The room echoed with their laughter, the playful energy between them filling the air.
As Mubarak caught up with Zainab, grabbing her hands, they lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. In an instant, Zainab ended up on top of Mubarak, their faces close, and for a moment, they both froze in place, caught in the unexpected closeness.
Zainab's heart raced, and after a brief pause, she quickly rose from atop him, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Mubarak, too, swiftly stood up, trying to mask his own sudden rush of emotions, his heart still racing from the close moment.
"I'll get ready in less than 30 minutes so we can go to the salon," Zainab said quickly, eager to escape the awkwardness. She turned and left for her room, leaving Mubarak standing there, his thoughts heavy.
As the seconds passed, Mubarak's heart ached. Despite all the time they'd spent together, he couldn't shake the feeling that Zainab still wasn't fully comfortable around him.
Within less than 30 minutes, Zainab emerged from her room, only to find Mubarak already dressed in his Ashé long-sleeved shirt and black jeans, sitting comfortably in the parlour.
Upon seeing him waiting, Zainab's face fell slightly, her smile turning into a small frown.
"What is it, dear?" Mubarak asked, noticing her change in expression. He took in her appearance, her pink floral gown and maroon veil making her look dashing and fashionable.
"I dressed up early so I wouldn't keep you waiting," Zainab complained, "but it looks like you're always dressing up before me."
Mubarak smiled warmly at her. "You know, I have to. I just can't keep you waiting, so I'd rather be the one waiting for you each day," he replied.
Zainab smiled back, appreciating his words.
Together, they left the house, and Mubarak, as always, opened the car door for her.
"Thank you," she said with a soft smile before entering the car.
He went around to the driver's side and got in, starting the car and driving them straight to the salon.
As they neared their destination, Zainab spoke up. "I think you should head home, Mubarak. My braids usually take a long time. When I'm done, I'll call you."
"Okay, good luck, dear," he said, giving her a reassuring smile.
Zainab nodded, grateful for his understanding, and stepped out of the car, and headed into the salon.
Zainab's long, beautiful black hair was carefully unbraided, washed, and then expertly braided into a chuku. The process took a full three and a half hours, demanding the stylist's full attention.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Zainab stepped out of the salon, pulling out her phone to check the time. It was then that she remembered she had promised Mubarak to call once she was finished.
To her surprise, however, as she glanced up, she saw his car parked right beside the salon.
Her heart skipped a beat as he stepped out of the car, walking toward her with a warm smile.
Zainab couldn't hide her appreciation when he opened the door for her. "Thank you for coming back on time," she said with a smile as she entered the car.
"Anything for you," Mubarak replied softly, his eyes kind but filled with a hint of affection. He didn't tell her that he had waited the entire time in the car, only leaving briefly for the Zuhr prayers. He didn't mind though.
"Have you prayed?" Mubarak asked her, glancing at her from the driver's seat.
"No," Zainab replied, her voice calm but distracted.
"Why?" Mubarak frowned. "It's past Zuhr. Let's go back home. Once you pray, we can head to the shop," he suggested firmly.
"No, you know what? Since my brother's house is nearby, I think you should drop me there to pray. Then you can pick me up a few minutes later," Zainab said, her tone hopeful.
Mubarak shook his head immediately. "No, no. I can't do that."
"Why not? Please, Mubarak," Zainab pleaded, leaning toward him slightly.
"You're asking me why?" Mubarak shot her a pointed look.
He didn't need to explain. Zainab already knew why. It had happened multiple times before. She'd asked him to take her to Hafsat's or Atika's house, claiming it was just a short visit. Each time, Mubarak had waited hours-four long, frustrating hours-before she finally emerged, only after he'd asked Hafsat or Atika to send her out. He wasn't about to let it happen again.
"Okay, fine! I won't take long, I promise," Zainab said earnestly, her eyes pleading.
Mubarak hummed skeptically, clearly unconvinced.
"Please! I promise, I promise, I promise!" Zainab added, her voice growing more insistent.
"Fine," Mubarak relented with a sigh. "But what will happen if you break this promise?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Then punish me," Zainab replied boldly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Mubarak chuckled, shaking his head. "Really, Zainab? You're ready to take my punishment?"
"No," Zainab admitted with a grin, "I just, know that, I won't break my promise." She paused for a moment before adding, "But seriously, can you even punish me?"
"Yes, of course! What would stop me?" Mubarak shot back with mock seriousness as they approached her brother's house.
Zainab simply smiled, stepping out of the car. "Don't worry, You won't have to."
"I hope so"