Chapter 13: Bushra Mansur.

Few Days Later…
It was a rainy Sunday. The type of rainy day that comes with its heaven-given soundtrack, washing every hue into a strong and soulful vibrancy. A perfect weather to stay in and cuddle with your significant other – some call it ‘weather for two'.
For Bushra, it was different. She was spending the day with three of her best ladies; Madina, Yasmin & Adila. They've just made hot cocoa and some cookies to munch on as Bushra filled them in with the incident that happened few days back.
She haven't told anyone about it until that rainy Sunday. When she saw the gifts being walked in to her office, she knew it way from him. Only that she never knew he was capable of that. It left her in awe when she read his note. It was a hand-written note. How appealing and romantic was that? It was the first time she had ever received a gift attached with a note. Though it wasn't a love note, but Bushra finds it cute for a man to write you a note.
For him to write ‘let's make a brand-new start' – did he really meant it? Or was he just being him to get his way with her again? Bushra was troubled and confused. What exactly does he want from her?
'Let's make a brand-new start? Hmm – what exactly does he mean here?" Yasmin asked considerately. Those sentences could mean anything, and she wanted to understand which it meant.
'What does he mean? Of course, he wants a brand-new start after messing up the first time," Madina asserted as she threw her hands in the air theatrically. Yasmin shook her head, not convinced. 'A new start to be just manager and client, or friends, or…" she allowed the words to hang while she raises her head up to look at her sister. She gave her a derisive smile, and Bushra returned a glare.
'Is there a day where you won't bring this up? For the unnumbered time, we are not getting together and we will never be friends. He's just a client and I want to keep things professional." Bushra affirmed.
'So it includes returning the gifts, right?" Madina asked her and her entire body jerked to a standstill unexpectedly. It didn't occur to her that if she wanted to be professional with him, she had to stop anything amateurish that's going on between them.
'Because you can't collect his gift and now claim to be acting professional." Madina pointed out, emphasizing on the ‘acting' word. 'Ye- yes, I will send someone to return it to his office." She claimed as she snatched the note away from Yasmin and placed it back into the box.
'But, that would be rude," Yasmin murmured looking at the roses. Bushra heaved a sigh. 'I ate few chocolates out of it," she confessed. Madina and Yasmin gaped their eyes at her. Bushra didn't care by the way they kept sending her critic looks.
'Well excuse me! The box has been laying around my room for days and the chocolates kept calling my name, and I couldn't resist not having some. Do you guys think I should get the exact same chocolate and replace them before returning the gift? But where am I going to get those foreign chocolates—" Bushra halted when she realized they were all staring at her. She smiled sheepishly and turned her head to the other side.
'How about you call him and thank him for the gifts? How does that sound?" Yasmin suggested the idea. Bushra furrowed her brows. How could she just start calling him after what he had done. 'Thank him? No! I will certainly not do that." Even if she was going to call him, he has to at least learn his lesson and he has to know she's worth more than what he thinks.
'I have to agree with Bushra on this one. She can't just accept his apology at the first try. She should torment him a little, maybe two to three times. But not more than that, Bushra – I know how mean you can be." Madina told her. Bushra smiled mischievously and shrugged it off. She had things planned, and no one was going to change that for her.
'Speaking of being mean – you should've seen Sadiq's face when he saw the gifts. He almost punched the delivery guy out of anger." They laughed, a very appealing, purely feminine sound. 'No wonder he has been acting strange. He doesn't even talk to me now like before. He barely comes out of his room when he comes back from work."
Bushra shrugged her shoulders. She didn't care whether he was hurt or not. She had made things clear with him but he chose to play deaf ears, now he was getting himself worked up over something she didn't even do. Imagine if she had told him that she was together with Mahir – he would've flipped.
'I undoubtedly don't care about him or his stupid feelings. I don't care whether he actually loves me or not – I just don't want him in my life." She specified frustratingly. She wished… no, she wants him to understand that and leave her alone. Now God knows what he's planning now. Maybe put a bullet to her head?
**
Mahir paced back and forth in his room. He looked around his room restlessly as different thoughts crossed his mind. What exactly was he going to tell his father? He had only few weeks left and his parents were expecting to hear news about it. His stomach churned over and he felt sick for a moment.
He settled down on the sofa, in his room and stared at the blank space. He felt trapped; like he was suffocating amid his escape. How time has passed without him realizing it. How did he let the time to slip without doing that one life changing task – now his life might get wrecked if he doesn't find a solution soon. His thoughts wandered to her – he was so occupied with Bushra and her troubles that he had forgotten about his father's request. She was the only one getting his mind occupied even if he didn't want that. It went from just business meetings – to solving a case together and spending time together every day to – he massaged the back of his head tiredly. For that matter, his thoughts ran on, and it was ridiculous how often he'd thought of her the past few days, remembering silly details… her crimson lips, her fiery brown eyes, her high pitched, soft voice. . .
Now her thoughts had made him fall into trouble he had forgotten about ever since she came into his life. If he announces to his father that he hasn't gotten a spouse yet, like they agreed within six-months, not doubts his father way going to choose any plastic, annoying lady he wants. And Mahir could not do anything about it but accept her and leave with it. What if he ends up in an unhealthy, depressing marriage? What if ends up not getting the happiness he wanted? What if his father chooses the wrong girl for him?
He shivered, but it wasn't from the cold coming from the A/C. It was the thought of marrying the wrong spouse. And because of that, waves of pain washed through his mind.
He took a deep breath and relaxed. It was hard for his mind to be in panic when his body was relaxed.
He got to his feet and grabbed his phone that was on the side drawer. He settled down on the edge of the bed and dialed Mansur's number – maybe he could help him with a way out.
'Mansur, where are you right now?" He began with a question. 'At work, why?" Whenever Mansur hears that, he knew Mahir was in trouble or he needed something.
'Damn it! Okay, I need your help." He said agitatedly. On the other side, Mansur sat up right on his office chair. Whenever Mahir shows emotions, it was genuine. He sounded upset at the moment.
'I have been so occupied for the past five months, and I may have, sort of forgotten that I made a promise to my parents that I would present a wife within six months. Abba just came back from a business trip two days back and he has been asking me about it. And I don't have anyone in mind." He spoke breathlessly. His mind was engulfed with negative thoughts.
'Ok, calm down now. Everything's going to be alright—"
'How? He asked to see me after Isha prayers and it's almost Isha time. If I tell him that I don't have anyone, he is going to introduce me to those cheap daughters of his friends to make my choice among them. And I don't want to marry one of those spoiled brats that can't even make their own tea," He said tediously. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and every time it beats, it hurts him.
Mansur heaved a sigh. He couldn't find the right answer to why some parents do that. Force their children to get married without thinking marriage is always a matter of time. And rushing it was not going to make it any better. In Mahir's case, it was totally uptight.
He was the type of man that doesn't tolerate crap – superior and nonchalant. What if he ends up with a woman like him? How would things end up? Marrying someone patient was top on Mahir's list. 'But… don't you have anyone in mind?" Mansur asked and immediately he regretted it. It sounded stupid when it came out of his mouth. If Mahir had anyone he was talking to, Mansur would've known.
'Of course not! If I was seeing someone, I would've told you obviously and I wouldn't have called now, ranting to you. I was so occupied with the company and—" he let the words to hang. He heaved a sigh as he closed his eyes. 'I have to go," he mouthed and ended the call. Without thinking much about the plan that just came across his mind, Mahir got to his feet and left his apartment to the mosque.
He met his father already at the mosque and they prayed together. He stayed there and waited till his father was done discussing with his neighbourly friends before they headed back into the house together.
They head in to the dining area, where they met Hajiya Aisha setting the table. 'Oh, you're back – just in time for dinner." She offered them a warm smile. She served her husband first and then Mahir, before she served herself.
'You have spoiled this boy too much, Aisha. Abincin ma sai kinyi serving dinshi? He can't do that by himself? I pray you marry someone that'll put more effort than your mother, if not – I don't know how you'd survive." Alhaji Adam lamented as Mahir scratched the back of his head. His mother always did everything for him. She sometimes feed him if he refuses to eat. She even helps him clean his side of the house because he hates it when the workers come anywhere near his apartment.
'Alhaji, how old is this boy please? He's just thirty-two years. Still young and needs his mother's assistance." She said and pinched Mahir's cheek. He smiled sheepishly. 'I didn't know which drink you wanted so I brought out all your favourites. Which do you want?" She gestured to the varieties of drinks standing on the table.
'No, mommy I'll serve myself – before Abba starts complaining again about stressing his wife," he said and got to his feet to choose the drink he wanted.
Abba chuckled softly. 'Go get your own wife and stop disturbing mine." He said in a playful tone. Mahir smirked and shook his head. His father was teasing him over being single?
'Do not worry, Big Man – my wife is on the way also. I'll soon leave the house for you two and my wife will carry on Mommy's tasks. She'd do even better." He wiggled his brows at his mother and she knocked his head. 'Shameless child." She glared at him playfully. He shrugged off the painful knock and went on to eat his dinner.
Moments later after dinner, they all gathered in Alhaji Adam's living room to hear about Mahir's suitor. His mother was more excited than any of them. Her prayers were being answered and she couldn't thank her lord enough. 'Go on, tell us about everything." His mother urged him. She was eager to hear about her daughter In-law.
Mahir looked at both his parents. How was he going to break it to them? 'Uh – I was thinking maybe I should bring her over for lunch. Maybe next week?" He spoke, unsure of what he'd tell them.
'Oh yes. That is a great idea, don't you think?" Hajiya Aisha asked her husband and he nodded.
'We'll get to know her more. Learn about her behaviours and see if she's fit for our son, right?" She said with much excitement and yet again, Alhaji Adam nodded. He had no choice but to go with what his wife wanted.
'So, this girl you're talking about, what's her name?" His father asked him.
Mahir shifted in his seat uncomfortable. He ducked his head and fiddled with his finger. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead. His heart was beating fast as though it would fall out. He didn't know how he was going to get out of what he was about to tell them, but it was better that marrying one of those plastic girls his father had in mind for him.
'H—her name is Bushra Mansur."