Chapter 26: Dinner.

Two Months later…
She walks into the enormous kitchen and looked around – a wonderful place to prepare meals and have your thoughts. She breaths out as she strolled into the less-busy kitchen. It was a Sunday evening and Bushra had the kitchen to herself – almost.
The female chef spotted her and briskly approached her; gaze lowered. 'Good evening, Ma. Do you need anything?" She asked as she took a glimpse at Bushra. They were specifically ordered to cook whatever Bushra wanted and she wasn't allowed to stress herself cooking. It was a great tremor to see her in the kitchen when she could just contact them via the intercom in her room.
Today, Bushra wanted to cook dinner for her and Mahir. 'Yes, I need just one thing. The kitchen to myself. I want to cook dinner. So, you guys are dismissed for the rest of the evening." She declared. The cook shoots her head up in amusement. This was something Bushra had never done – not when they were specifically instructed not to let her cook by herself.
'But… our boss precisely told us not to…"
'Not to what? Let me cook, hmm? Oh c'mon, don't mind him. Now go rest, you deserve it. Your name is…" she halted, trying to remember the name. 'Esther," she reminded her. Bushra smiled as she nodded. 'Okay, Esther and the rest of you guys can go rest." Bushra proclaimed stridently as she clapped her hands, urging them out. She loved her space when she cooked. And having this large space to herself was in her top to-do list.
They walked out hesitantly as they murmured incoherently.
Bushra sighed at the total silence in the kitchen. She scanned around, smiling. Ever since they got married, she has been wanting to come in and cook at least once a while. But unluckily she always gets caught by Mahir. Today, he was called in at the office for something urgent and she got bored out of reading books and spending time at her balcony, and the garden.
She walked towards the two wooden doors that she hoped it's the pantry. She wanted to cook a local food – she hadn't had any in a long time. The chefs only cooked extraneous dishes—she likes it, but not all the time. Tonight, she wanted to eat pounded yam with veggie soup.
She opened the pantry to find it filled with different types of spices. She picked a glass of powdered-chili and observed it. A smile escaped her lips – she could already picture how good the soup would be with all the spices she had seen in the pantry.
She hugged a punch of spices to her chest and carefully dropped them on the kitchen island. If her conscious was right, she knew her mother bought some poundo. It would be easier and faster for her than to start the process from scratch.
She looks around and spots a tall and wide door at the end of the kitchen. It might be the store, she thought as she headed towards it. Fortunately, it was – and it was moderately immense and lovely. Every food item was well arranged.
She spotted the bag of pounded yam flour at the bottom shelf. It wasn't as heavy as it seems – she brought it out and placed it on the kitchen island, next to the spices she brought out.
In no time, Bushra started preparing the soup. She was astonished to find everything she needed in the kitchen. It was large and fancy, and she never expected to find local stuff in the freezer or store. She shrugs it off and continued with her cooking.
Bushra was done preparing the soup before turning her attention to the pounded-yam. She was thrilled with the outcome of her soup. How much she has missed cooking. It's been months since she cooked, even when she was home, she hardly gets the time to show off her skills. She loved cooking, and she was good at it. She cooked from the base of her heart. She gave herself, always being creative, always nurturing with what she made.
'What are you doing?"
She jumped in horror as terror sucked the very breath from her mouth. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm the panic. She was so carried away with her thoughts that she didn't hear when the door creaked open and someone came in. Possibly because there was a great distance between the cooker and the kitchen entrance.
'I've been looking for you all over the house but couldn't find you. Why are you here? Where are the chefs, the workers? Are you cooking?" He flooded her with questions.
With an unhurried turn, she faced him, shooting her eye brows up. 'You've found me now, so what? What do you want?" She asked him out of annoyance. For one thing, she hates being interrupted while she cooked and she hated having company around.
'You're cooking?" He walks over to the gas cooker and peeped. She looks up at him – he was so close that she could almost hear his breathing, his cologne had already filled her nostrils. He looks down at her and spoke, 'What's this?" He asked her – he held a stoic look as he bores his eyes into her.
Her breath hitched – his was so close to her and she was finding it difficult to comprehend what was happening around her. She hates how she was feeling at the moment. She shoved him off and walked to the counter – she placed her hand over her chest, her heart was beating as though it was going to fall out.
'It's pounded yam and veggie soup. I gave the chefs the evening off so I'd cook dinner myself." She had her back facing him. If she looked at him one more time – with his chest slightly peeping from his half-unbuttoned white shirt, she might collapse. She didn't know why, but she might likely do that.
'Mmm." He nods his head as he approached her. Bushra turned and he was already standing before her. She gasped and shifted. She was tensed—he loves that. He sensed how his presence makes her perturbed.
'Did you cook for both of us?" He inquired as he lifts his eye brows up. 'Okay, what is with you and getting into my personal space?" She shoves him away and moved back to the stove to check on the pounded yam. She knew it would be ready to be served any moment.
The corner of his lips twitched before spreading into a smile. 'You tend to zone out these days whenever I talk to you from afar, so I have to come closer before you comprehend what I'm saying." He was fond of walking into her room, with only shorts or sweatpants and plain crew neck T-shirt that hugged his body fit. She wondered how it never tears off his body or how he breaths in them. It was tight – she could see his abs without even stressing her eyes. How could she ever concentrate when he was always showing off his good-looking body to her.
'Food will be ready soon. It's already Maghrib time, so you can go and pray now. And wear something proper please, you look like a bartender, an irresponsible one." She folds her arms to her chest and tilts her head.
'Cause my chest is open?"
'Just go," she cuts in as she shots her eyes close. There are some kids that could never get tired of annoying their mothers with unnecessary questions or just keep talking non-stop until they were told to shup up – Mahir was that type of kid. He'd ask her pointless questions or say whatever comes out of his mouth and act as though he wasn't the one that said it.
He shrugs his shoulders and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her once to her peace. She heaved a sigh and went back to what she was doing before he interrupted her.
**
She held the rails tight, as her brain screams jump. Bushra always knew she wasn't the only one that randomly has these thoughts to just jump off a cliff or from a high building. Could she be afraid of heights? But she was so close to the rails, looking down and she didn't feel anything –except the part where her brain was constantly telling her to jump off and end things. At least it was better than living with a man referred to as her husband at the tip of the tongue but not essentially what people think.
Bushra lets out a long breath. She was already tired, and they still had nine-months before the contract expires. And in the mean-time, she has to deal with his mischiefs and approaches. She heaved a sigh when the thought of the dinner they had together earlier crossed her mind.
After Isha, she was in the dining area, by herself and enjoying her dinner when he came in. It looked like he took a shower as he was wearing a knee length khaki trouser and a white crew neck T-shirt. She tried as hard as she could not to choke on her food or stare at him – she did the one she didn't know she had in her. She pretended as if he wasn't there even though it was hard to ignore his presence. His fragrance had her breathing shallow – his voice made a shiver run down her spine. She didn't know why, she wanted that all to stop. She wanted to be far away from him – avoid him till they could part ways.
Her phone chimed, indicating a call coming through. Her lips curved up at the name that popped on her screen. She has been expecting his call and she was glad that he kept his promise to call her. She answered the call and placed the phone on her ear.
'Hello, Salamu Alaikum." His voice was husky. It made Bushra to heave a sigh – it was a sigh of relive, not the type that Mahir makes her go through whenever he irritates her.
'Waalaikumus Salam, Good evening," she replied, her voice was low but audible enough for him to hear her. She ducked her head, as though he was standing before her. Muhammad Ahmad Kurfi; he was the first guy to ever make her feel that way – shy, contented and jumpy all at once. She met him at Aldo's restaurant last two weeks when she had dinner together with Madina which she showed up late. He kept her company until Madina showed up – since then, they became so close like they've known each other for years.
He might be the one for her.
'Evening. I'm so sorry I didn't get the chance to call you on time. You wouldn't believe what happened today." He spoke, his voice was filled with excitement. She giggled – she knew whatever he wanted to say, it was going to be good.
'It's okay. What happened today? Did you get in trouble with Hajiya again?" She said to him jokingly. She could hear his soft chuckle. Her smile widened as her heart fluttered with zeal.
'So, I was having lunch with my parents and siblings when I erroneously called my sister Bilkisu as Bushra, so now Hajiya wouldn't stop asking who Bushra is."
Her eyes widened as her heart skipped a beat. She didn't know how to react to his statement. Deep within, she was afraid he'd tell his family about her, not knowing that she was married. She hadn't found the courage to tell him that or tell him about her the outrageous contract they've signed and they could see other people before the time ends.
She chuckled nervously and mouthed, 'Really? How could you possibly have mistaken your sister as me?" Her mind was so engulfed with horror that she didn't feel the presence behind her. Before she knew it, the phone was snatched away from her.
She briskly turned to see Mahir standing behind her. He ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket. A look of great bitterness swept across her face. 'What is the meaning of this?" She spoke irately. She couldn't think of any reason why he'd just seize her phone away and end the call. That was tremendously discourteous!
'Who is Muhammad Ahmad Kurfi and why is he calling you by this time of the night?" He asked her. His chest was heaving up and down by the way he was fuming. He clenched his fist angrily when Bushra hissed instead of answering his questions.
'You're going to answer me right now!" He bellowed angrily, making her shiver with fear. She embraced herself and stood still – she wasn't ready to stand down.
'Muhammad is someone I'm seeing and I don't think you have a problem with that. We both agreed to the idea of seeing other people before the contract elapses, remember?" It was a souvenir Mahir was avoiding. The both agreed to explore and find their lifetime partners – now he was somewhat against the idea.
'You… you're married – to me. You can't just go out there and come into my house, talking to other men. This will be the last time I'll hear you talking to a man on phone. Don't you dare get on my nerves, Bushra!" He yelled; his voice was filled with anger.
She laughs exceptionally and looked at him one more time. She was astonished by how selfish he was. What does he have in mind if she doesn't find her lifetime partner then? To terminate the contract and keep living with him? That was something she'd never imagine happening and she will never love the idea of that.
'You can't stop me from seeing other people, Mahir. And I can't also get in your way. Date or marry as many girls as you want but just so you know, I will never… ever let you get the last laugh."
It was obvious that he was trying to get in the way of her serene and contented life. She was never going to let that happen!