Chapter 20: Two Months.

Bushra paced around her mother's room as she murmured under her breath. She bites her finger out of frustration and silently begging for the voices in her head to stop. Her thoughts became so scattered that normal functioning was impossible at the moment. She has seen it coming, she knew it was coming – what she never saw coming was the outcome. Mahir's uncles just came that day, in the morning and fixed the wedding date.
She was OK at first, but things tumbled when the date was announced to her. Two months! It wasn't enough – it wasn't enough time for her grasp the idea of being under a man after getting married, left alone get ready for the wedding. Now in just 8 weeks her life was going to take an elongated and vast turn. Everything was going to change from ‘I'm going out' to ‘can I go out'. Shivers crept through her body at the thought of that. She felt trapped; like she was suffocating in the midst of her escape.
'Bushra? Don't tell me you're still shocked about the wedding date announcement. What were you expecting before—nine months?" Aunty spoke meticulously as she made her way to her closet. Bushra looked at her mother and sighed. She approached her as she slumped her head to the side. 'Aunty, how can you let Baba decide to fix this wedding date? Two months? It's not going to be enough for the wedding preparations, Aunty." Bushra lamented.
Aunty looks at her in awe. 'What wedding preparations are you talking about, Bushra? You said you're not going to have any event, only wedding Nikkah. And your husband himself begged your father and asked him to fix the date that close. He said we don't need to buy any house items that he already has a house furnished for you guys." She turns away and went on with what she was doing. Bushra hissed softly and folded her arms on her chest. 'He already has a house ready? Aunty, I don't want that. I'm not comfortable with that please. I want Baba to do everything for me," she said angrily and averted her gaze.
Aunty paused and stared at her for a moment. 'I also don't want that too. Your father disagreed but the boy's father insisted also and your father agreed afterwards. Since they insisted, just let it go please. Nothing is going to happen In sha Allah." Aunty spoke softly, full of assurance. Bushra nodded timidly – she wasn't convinced but her mother's words made it seem less to worry about.
Later that day, Bushra was in her room, reading a book after she had prayed Isha. Her phone chimed, indicating an incoming call. She picked up the phone and stared at it. The urge to just stare at the phone ring until it stops roused in her. With the way she was feeling, as though nothing was real, Mahir was the last person she wanted to speak with at the moment.
She answered the call and placed the phone on her ear. 'Yes," she said to him nonchalantly. She was already fed up before he even spoke. He was fond of vexing her when they talked on phone or meet in person. He was either behaving as though he was the one doing her a favor, rather than doing each other a favor or he was speaking something stupid to upset her and end up having a fight afterwards.
'I'm outside, at the gazebo," he told her and ended the call. She dropped the phone and hissed. She went ahead and continued reading her book – she had no time to waste and didn't have the energy to have a fight. If he thought he could be arrogant and bossy, she has mastered that also, and she was ready to challenge him. He couldn't just do whatever he wanted at the time he is pleased with. It was past eight in the night and he has the guts to come and tell her he was in her house. What if she wasn't home or she was busy doing something important – comparably, at the moment, she was busy.
Bushra hissed and got to her feet. She took her full-length hijab she kept on the vanity stool after she prayed and slipped into it. Wearing her fluffy slippers, she stepped out and headed out to the gazebo.
She ambled towards him, her face as though she was about to wrestle with him. He had his security guards standing a slight distant from them. He sensed her presence but still went on with what he was doing on his phone. It looked like he has a business meeting in Italy and he was trying to escape it.
Mahir wasn't a fan of going on business trips – he only traveled when he couldn't escape it. And now that he'll be the CEO of the company in 4 months, he knew that there wasn't a way out of going on business trips. He preferred to do whatever it was within his home, Nigeria. But it wasn't possible now that his father has built up so many mergers in different international companies and he was about to launch two new branches in Greater Manchester and New York. He shuffled his feet and hissed slightly – it appeared like he wasn't going to escape it and there wasn't any way he could send his P.A or a manager to represent him. It must be him or his father. And he knew his father wasn't going either.
'Are you just going to bring me out here just to chat on your phone or what?" She spoke exasperatingly. She clenched her hijab out of anger when he didn't respond nor did he look up. A boiling fury swelled up inside of her as she spoke again. 'If you've forgotten, this is my father's house not your office, or the park or a restaurant…"
He slowly looked up this time and gazed at her. His eyes pasted on the insides of her lids – Bushra looked away when she found that she couldn't keep up with his stare. Her heart skipped a beat as she shifted uncomfortably. His eyes seemed to have a power that shuts her down and she loses every confidence she has in her. She tends to forget what she was saying or doing at the moment. She always avoided his gaze. Screech, blabber whenever he wasn't looking – the moment he looks up and their eyes meet, Bushra loses all her powers. She always wondered how he does that.
'Why did you stop? I want to hear the rest of it. This is your house, yes – and?" His eyebrows shooting towards the roof when he spoke. He blinked at her through his hardened eyes, waiting for an answer but nothing came out. He chuckled softly and averted his gaze back to his phone.
'I asked you to send me the amount you needed for the wedding preparation but you never did, why?" He asked her in a thick yet soft way. She looks at him keenly. He was handsome, she admits. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. Another reason for him to be the way he is, she fathomed. It always leaves her wondering why he doesn't have women in his life. Perhaps, his ego and pride wouldn't let him have his ways with them. She was used to seeing most men using their beauty to lure in women just to use them or whatever they had in mind. But in Mahir's case, he was dissimilar. He was a one-woman-man. He was handsome moderately alright, but inside he was revolting.
'I don't need it," she responded after a while. He looks up, this time he kept the phone aside and stared at her. 'I insist," he said to her softly however, his voice was husky. 'You don't have to, thank you," she retorted unsympathetically.
'But I want to," he told her. He wanted something, and he would find a way to get it. He relaxed back and crossed his legs, his arm resting on the top of the couch arm. She glowers at him – she knew he must find a way to do what he intends one way or the other.
'Oh, before I forget." He gestured to one of his men. The security approached them with a white leather that seemed familiar to her. He dropped it on the table between them and went back to his position. 'Open it," he ordered. She looks at him for a brief moment before picking it up and taking a peep in it.
She brought out the first box and opened it. It was an 18kt white gold ava Bea diamond set. It shines in the right light but catches the eye. Her smile was contagious and he couldn't help but smile also. He gazes at her finger, captured by the sparkling diamond ring he bought her.
Bushra unboxed the next box – it was a Hermès Birkin 30 tote bag. She nearly gasped out of shock. She had always wanted the bag but couldn't get the chance to have one due to how costly they were. She snaps her head at him as her mouth gaped, her heart pounded that she could almost hear it.
'It was the gifts mommy gave you and but unfortunately, you threw it to my face and left," he reminded her. She looked away and smiled sheepishly. She had long forgotten about that.
'If I returned the gifts to her, she'd obviously end up blaming me," he spoke, unsure of what he said. His mother was so pleased with Bushra that whatever was going wrong, she blamed Mahir even if it wasn't his fault. Now, she was making a fuse that he must give money to Bushra to start the wedding preparations. He chose the wedding date to be close, so he had to give her money to prepare.
'I love it… thank you," she said softly and returned the bag into the box. She would open the rest of the gifts in her room.
'So, how much do you need?" He needed not to make the mistake of writing a cheque to her again and offending her. There were somethings that had changed in him since he met her. It wasn't because she forced him to – he analyzed it himself and assessed it.
'I honestly don't need anything from you. The furnitures you have bought are enough. I'll handle the preparation myself. Besides, It's nothing much." She shrugged it off but Mahir wasn't convinced. 'Okay, fine. I'll go home and inform mommy you rejected her gift, again." A smirk made its way to his lips.
'It's from mommy?" She whispered audibly; her eyes gaped out at him. 'But… you should've told her it wasn't necessary," she told him. She respected his mother, not because of anything but because she deserves it. After the day Bushra met her, Mahir gave his mother her number and she called her from time to time. She finds it difficult to speak to his mother but she always feels delighted and superior to have a mother in-law like Mahir's mother.
'I tried to but she insisted and she specifically told me not to leave this house without fulfilling her command. But, since you insist on not taking the money, I will go deliver your message right now." He heaved a sigh as he got to his feet. 'No! Wait," she said hurriedly. He paused but didn't settle down. 'Okay, I'll take it… but only for Mommy's sake," she told him. A slow smile crept onto his face as soon as she agreed.
He motioned one of his guards to come and the previous man that delivered Bushra's gift walked to Mahir. He whispered in his ear and he nodded before walking away to the car. He comes back shortly, holding a cheque and pen. He handed it to Mahir and stood by the chair Mahir was sitting. 'So, how much are we talking about?" He asked her as he wrote down on the cheque. He was sure now she wasn't going to tear it in pieces and throw it to his face like she did the last time.
'Uh – I don't…" she stuttered and let the words hang. He tires out the cheque and handed it to her. 'What do you think?" He asked her.
Bushra was shocked. She couldn't help herself. Her jaw dropped to the floor as her eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling. 'This is too much, Mahir! What do you expect me to do with this kind of money?" She looks at him in awe. He shrugged and averted his gaze.
Abruptly, Bushra sensed someone approaching and snatched the cheque from her hand. She snapped her head up to glare at the last person she didn't expect to see. 'What's this? Why is he here? So now your prostitution has upgraded and you're bringing men into the house. Are you out of your mind?" Sadiq fumed. His voice was so lurid, so booming that Bushra couldn't comprehend.
Mahir stares at him in shudder, a look of great bitterness swept across his face. He always wondered who Sadiq was and why he was always toxic and ill-tempered whenever he comes across him.
'You're the most cowardly person I have ever seen in my entire life, you two-timing idiot! Have you always been so stupid like this, or are you putting in some extra effort? Because sometimes I wonder if being stupid is just your front or if that is genuinely the real you." She bellowed angrily. A boiling fury swelled inside of her – she was slightly relived after blurting out those words to him.
Sadiq clenched his fist angrily, vein bulging out of his head. His pulse sped up and he was breathing very shallow. He balled his fingers to a fist and drove them towards her face.