Chapter 24: The Garden.

She strolled in as a drift of fresh roses filled the air with a memorable fragrance – she smiled, an energetically and heartfelt one. She has been keen to come out here, sightsee the garden ever since she saw it from afar. It's been two-weeks and she finally got the chance to come out and explore – get some fresh air and let lose of the disconcerting thoughts in her mind.
She looked up at the sky, the sun was setting and it was almost getting dark. She loved it. The wind was cool and the appearance of the place was convivial. She settled down on the stand hammock as she breathe out gently. It was calming to have the place to herself.
She wondered why she got herself slogged at first, thinking how she'd survive for 12-months, under the same roof with a man she refers to her husband and never socialize with.
Her lips curved upwards – she loves how they're living without seeing each other. She doesn't get to see him until it was breakfast time, and it wasn't everyday she encounters with him in the dining area. Most of the times he has his breakfast early and she'd still be in bed by the time he was done and leaves.
She was resuming work the next day, and she couldn't be more happier about it. The past two weeks wasn't what she expected it to be. It was fun because she found out about the house study, where she stocked up all her books and spend most of her time there, reading or just settled down by the window and stair outside the backyard, and watch the gardeners doing their job while the securities roam around the house.
Today being her first time out in the garden – she loved it, not more than she loves spending time in the study, reading her books and giggling or groaning about something the author had written.
The garden was more of a place to come and refresh your mind or cry out your pain, just sit and stare at the scenic flowers and plants embedded around.
She abruptly picked up her phone and checked her notification. It was only the message Mahir sent her earlier that day about visiting his parents tonight. She hissed slightly and kept the phone back on her laps. He didn't tell her the exact time, and she wasn't getting ready until he comes up to her room and ask her to get ready.
She would've said no if it wasn't his parents place they were going – as a matter of fact, she was excited but nervous to see them – his mother especially. Mahir's mother was fun to be with – she was the type of woman every person would like to have in their lives. She was caring and jovial, a good listener and always puts everyone she cares about first. Consequently, Bushra loved the woman and always looked forward to spending time with her, even though they've only met twice.
Bushra looked up at the sky again, it was darker than she came at first. She heaved a sigh – she wanted to spend more time outside but it seemed like she has to head in sooner than later. Possibly, tomorrow if she closes early from work, she'd come out early and spend more time before it gets dark. Maybe read a book outside and explore more. It was big, and she doubts if she'd sightsee everything in just an evening.
'I checked your room you weren't there. The study, the kitchen – couldn't find you." Before she turned, she knew the owner of the voice. She rolled her eyes and faced him. 'Are you stalking on me? How did you know where I spend most of my time?" She shoots her brows up, waiting for an answer.
He shrugs, as though he wasn't self-conscious.
'CCTV," he said tersely and joined her on the hammock beside hers. 'What brought you out here anyway?" He asked, looking around the garden. It felt serene and he loved the feeling. He has been there a couple of times but only for some reasons – a long phone call abruptly made him to walk in inadvertently and he always paid no attention to his situation, whatsoever.
'Isn't it obvious?" She said, gesturing to the beauty of the flower-filled garden.
'Hm!" He nodded. 'It is beautiful," he admits as he looks at her. A smile sneaks out the corner of his mouth just as he settles his eyes on her. Her appearance was one of the gentle roses, as if she used a wand to make herself. She was beautiful, he admits. But it was something he'd never see himself saying to her.
Bushra sensed he was looking at her – she turned and rests her eyes in his, a puzzled look spread across her face. 'What?" She inquired.
He still had his eyes on her despite she had caught him sympathetically staring at her. How could you hate someone yet admire their beauty – he speculated.
He finally exhaled gently and looked away. 'What's it like having a sibling?" He inquired and looked at her again.
He had a sharp face that seemed to flood her heart. She looks at him for a moment, not saying a word. He shrugs it off and looked away. He glances at his wrist watch – it was almost 6pm.
'Sometimes may be good sometimes may be bad," she spoke after the brief silence. 'They might be pesky sometimes, but siblings have their own unique ways of keeping you healthy. For my sister; she keeps me physically fit, she helps me become my better self, she's a good source of mental boosts and emotional support. Laughter is the best medicine and Yasmin makes me laugh – a lot." She couldn't help but smile at the thought of their late-night convos, having that ‘remember when' conversations and laugh it out.
Her smile was contagious and he couldn't help but smile. He always wondered what it feels like to have a sibling – a younger brother to be precise. The one he can ask for advice, boss around, play football with, make prank calls—do anything fun.
'But she can be a pain in the neck sometimes," Bushra continued. 'Like, she's always around, being pesky. Copies everything I do and steal my clothes. And the worse part is we are always paired up at family gatherings."
'What's the problem with being paired with your sister?" He asked. He didn't see a problem with that. If he would be honest with her, Bushra was more beautiful but Yasmin was taller and a bit chubbier. At first, he thought Yasmin was the older one.
'You see when she got married before I did, everyone literally got on my neck, comparing us – indirectly telling me she was better. I wasn't bothered though, but it was sometimes annoying, you know." She glances at him. He was staring at her the whole time she spoke. 'Makes me feel like she's the favorite child – I mean not that I care…"
'Stop trying to calm the storm. Calm yourself. The storm will pass." He said to her. 'You shouldn't care about what nobody says or how nobody feels. You should be happy, live your life, and that's what's it." He affirmed even though; in his heart he knew his words didn't matter.
She wanted to get up and leave but his words, his company – she was enjoying it. It sounded like he was comforting her – it was something she never expected from him. Bushra smiled… a quick bright smile.
'Believe me, I am trying my best to do that. But… everything will come to an end since I am now…" she lets her words to fade and looked away. Her crimson cheeks and warm-heated smile instantly caught his attention.
'Married? Now that we're married?" He said pompously.
She rolled her eyes and looked at anywhere but him.
He chuckled, almost sounded like a laughter. She turned back, taking in the sight of his side burn and huge smile on his face. He looked so carefree. And his laugh … oh, Allah, his laugh. It melted her heart a little and chipped away at the carefully constructed wall she'd built between them.
'I'd rather have a sibling than be alone," he told her. 'It's not as everyone thought it is. Well… in my house it's not always ‘you can get what you want or I'd do anything for my only child'. In my house I'll get beaten by mommy for misbehaving. I still get knocked on the head when I do something wrong and have a curfew. It's appears that I'm still a boy to her." He heaved a sigh of annoyance. He did get a special treatment from his Father – always getting the best gifts any child could wish for.
'She's only being a mother; can you blame her? And you are her only child – what do you expect?" She shoots her brows up at him and he shrugs. 'A thirty-five-year-old man with a curfew? Sounds more like a prison to me," he mumbled in a bothersome way.
She chuckled, it was light, and laced with a hum of amusement at the matter.
'I can't even count how many times she calls me a day ever since I moved out. I know she wouldn't mind if we stayed with them at their place." He loved his mother, so much. But sometimes she gets so much in his space he felt like running away and hiding.
Bushra was right, she was just being a caring mother but she still has to understand that he was a grown man now, with a wife. The thought made him to look at Bushra. She was staring down at the grass or her feet, clearly occupied by her own thoughts.
If he was going to live with her for that certain amount of time, they could at least make the best of it, right? Despite not liking each other, he was going to try his best to make sure they fight less – if she wanted. He was down for whatever she brings to the table. And just because he settled down, having that personal conversation with her – it doesn't mean that he hates her less. He was getting to know her and getting answers for his unanswered questions.
He sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. He opens his mouth to speak, then clamps it shut again. He thinks for a bit, and then finally speaks. 'We are leaving by 7pm," he told her, getting to his feet and walkinf out of the garden.
She lets out a thwarted scoff – she knew they weren't going to ever get along. Possibly, he got bored and didn't have anything to do, so he used her to kill time.
She moved her eyes away from his retreating back and looked up – it was time for her to head in nevertheless. It didn't even matter whether he stayed or not.
But, to admit – she enjoyed his company and looked forward to having that rare moment with him again.
She got to her feet and took one last glance at the place before she heads inside through the kitchen door.
An hour later, Bushra was standing in her walk-in room size closet. She heaved a sigh, hands on her narrowed-waist as she scanned the first drawer. She was only in her underwears and couldn't decide what to wear. She hissed slightly, knowing it was past 7pm and he told her they were leaving exactly at the time he told her. Not that she cared, but she hated it when someone was waiting for her just as she hates waiting.
She walked towards her Abaya side of the closet and removed one from the hangers from the rod and then she slowly unbuttoned the garment from the hanger. It was a light-blue Abaya with exact color of embroidery on the chest area and arms.
'For heaven's sake, what's taking so long—" he paused when he spotted her. He took in her appearance, from her terrified face to her flat tummy and tad wide hips. She had a full chest with the most desired, delicate fair skin. Her tummy was so flat – it made him have a thought whether she eats or not. Or was she starving herself to stay fit? Below, he could see her wide hips past her see-through underskirt.
He looks at her with hungry eyes and a terrifying look spread across her face, just as she clamped her chest with both of her arms to cover it. She felt her legs weaken by his intense stare. Almost felt like he could see through her. She didn't realize she was terrified until he launched to approach her. She took few steps back as he kept walking further into the closet.
Why's he walking towards her?