Chapter 28: Her weakness.

Day 15…
She breaths in and out – it calmed her. The panic had abridged and she felt relaxed… for a moment.
Bushra was worried.
She hasn't seen Mahir in fifteen-days. She hasn't seen him since that night they had a huge fight over Muhammad. It had reached to the point where she checks his room to see if he was hiding there to avoid her but he wasn't – and she couldn't just ask his guards about their boss's whereabouts.
She checked her phone for the myriad time. She should call him… at least to know if he's okay.
Except…
She shrugs it off and steps out of his room. She has been standing in his room, looking around for so long that her legs got sore.
He must be avoiding her – wherever he is, he might not want to speak with her. He might not want to see her. He might not…
Her phone chimed, interrupting her thoughts.
She quickly raised it up to see who it was. It might be him.
She heaved a sigh – it was Madina. 'Hey, Madina."
'Could you please tell your securities to grant me access! It's annoying how I have to wait at the gate and you always forget to inform them before I arrive." Her voice croons through Bushra's phone. She ended the call – she sounded pissed. Bushra chuckled softly as she rifled for the security's number in her phone. She knew Madina would complain about how she had deserted her at the gate until she leaves.
Few moments later, Madina walks into Bushra room. 'Best friend," Bushra squeaks as she opened her arms, and approached her. Madina rolled her eyes just as Bushra hugs her.
Madina shoves her aside and made her way to the bed – she collapses on it with a deep sigh. She was tired, Bushra could tell by that. 'Where exactly are you coming from?" She asked, sitting beside her on the bed. 'Work," she retorted, her eyes still shut close.
'On a Sunday?"
'Mm-hmm! Baba made me – there was an emergency meeting and he didn't feel like going out so I had to represent him. It's so exhausting," she mumbled and tossed to the other side, facing Bushra. She finally opens her eyes and looked up at Bushra that was staring into the blank space.
'What's up with you?" She asked, sitting up. She snaps her head to Madina, her brows shooting up.
She was thinking of him again.
'Nothing. Are you hungry? I can call the kitchen to fix something for you since it's not lunch time yet." Bushra said and got to her feet. She picked up the intercom, waiting for Madina to make her order.
Madina waves it off, as she rests her back on the headboard. Bushra shrugs and place the phone back to its spot.
Her phone chimed and yet again, she anticipated.
It wasn't him.
She breaths out and answered the call immediately. It was her mother-in-law. Perhaps, she might get some information about his whereabouts from his mother. 'Salamu Alaikum, Mommy. Good afternoon," Bushra said into the phone.
'Waalaikumus Salam, good afternoon, Bushra. How are you all doing?" She asked chirpily and Bushra answered.
'I've been calling your husband but he isn't picking his call. Is he close by? I want to speak with him." She said and Bushra's stomach fluttered. His mother just referred to him as her husband. She has heard it so many times but she tends to get edgy whenever she hears it.
'Oh, he isn't home right now, mommy." Bushra couldn't just lie. She hasn't even seen him in more than two weeks, not to talk of lying to his mother that he was home.
'He's out? Before he left our place last night, he told me he'd be home all day. This boy! Oh well, please tell him to call back when he's back, okay?" She spoke softly. Bushra nodded, as though she was in front of her. 'Yes, Mommy. In sha Allah." They ended the call and Bushra tossed her phone across the bed.
She collapsed on the bed as she huffed. She shuts her eyes close, a lump in her throat settling in.
And she thought he had traveled or something happened to him…
'Do I have to ask before you tell me?" Madina voiced out but Bushra ignored her.
She worried herself for nothing over his absence – she should've known.
Why was she even bothering herself over him? She doesn't like him nor does he like her back – what happened to her? What happened to him? He used to be so nonchalant that she wonders if he ever has any worries in his life. But now…
'Bushra, are you alright?" Madina asked when she spotted the tears running down her temple. She blinked and it was at the moment she realized she was crying. She sat up and wiped her tears.
'This man has the audacity to ghost me for over two weeks without telling me about his whereabouts or call to hear how I'm doing. Over a stupid settlement we both agreed to…" she paused and sniffled into her hands. She hadn't told Madina about the contract or what they had agreed on between her and Mahir.
'Is this why you're crying? Seriously? Your husband is a busy man, why bother yourself? He's out there making more money, trying to become a billionaire… well, even though he sort of is. And you already know how he is; nonchalant and unsympathetic – you said it yourself. And last time I checked; you didn't care about whatever that goes on in his life. Now you're bothered?"
Bushra wiped the ongoing tears – she didn't even know exactly why she was crying. Was it because Muhammad texted her that he wanted to meet her parents or Mahir was avoiding her? Both… maybe.
She laid her head on Madina's laps and shut her eyes close.
She had to come clean with Muhammad, sooner than she wanted and also confront Mahir. She didn't know the reason why she needed to confront him or what exactly she was going to say – she only wanted to rant and she wanted him to only listen, even if he wasn't going to apologize for reproaching her and making her the bad person whereas he caused everything.
**
That night, Madina had left and Bushra was standing in the middle of his room, looking around as if it was the first time she had been in the room.
It was big and picturesque. She loves the interior; despite that she wasn't a fan of dark colors. But Mahir's room was enticing. The grey and black theme fits his personality. And the room was big – big enough to fit countless people inside.
She moved to his immense built-in closet and opened the first two glass doors on the right. It was filled with white long-sleeved graphic shirts, plan shirts and button ups. The next drawer was his suits – she touched it to feel the texture. It felt as though she could sleep in them – she knew each costed a fortune.
She kept rummaging through the drawers – from his white Tees, to his pjs, to his kaftans and jeans. By the time she was done exploring the closet, she was exhausted. She laid down on the fur carpet, in the middle of the closet.
How could a man have that much attires? She bet he could wear outfits for a year without repeating them. She glances over to the left – it was his shoe collection and it was weird how he had so many shoes. She doubts if she had ever had that much shoes in her life. Has he ever worn them all, she thought? How could he ever?
'Found what you're looking for?" She heard the familiar voice. Her heart dropped and she couldn't find the courage to face the direction she heard the voice come from. How long has he been looking at her?
The only thing she wanted was the floor to open and swallow her up at the moment.
He was standing by the walkway, arms crossed over his broad chest while he leaned on the entranceway. He has been back for more than an hour and decided to stay in his study to get some unfinished business done before heading to his room.
Checking the CCTV he connected in his room for his eyes only, he spotted Bushra, wandering around in his room and going through his stuff. He had seen how she has been coming to his room and haphazardly stand for a moment and leave the room. Today was different – she went through his belongings, tried on some—even sniffed to just to smell his cologne and ended up lying down on the fur carpet in his closet.
He was still standing by the door when she got to her feet, her back was facing him. She was too discomfited to face him. How could she feasibly look at him? What was she going to tell him? What brought her to his room – To explore his clothes and criticize him even though everything he owns was perfect?
She finally faced him. 'Mommy called earlier, looking for you." She told him instead. He smirked as he scanned her from head to toe. She was wearing a knee-length silky pink nightgown. It looked so good on her. He wondered how she'd look if she had it off – he shook his head slightly and averted his gaze from her hips to her face. She was terrified, but she was trying so hard to hide it.
'I called her back. Why are you in my room?" He asked casually. He didn't care that she was in his room. He only wanted to know why she enters his room every day and night. Tonight, she even went beyond just standing in the middle of the room.
'I know you must have a valid reason for coming into my room every day and going through my stuff. And oh, before I forget – did you find what you were looking for when you went through my phone few weeks ago?" He had that in mind for so long. He could remember the day she found his phone lying on the bed and went through it.
Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, as if trying to fulfil a thousand beats. She stares back at him, suddenly feeling a sickening sensation throughout her body. She was so embarrassed. 'I wasn't…" she mouthed, clearing her throat. She had no explanation. She was caught—redhandedly, and she couldn't fight it.
Could it be any more embarrassing as it already was? She wanted to run out, but he was blocking the way. And she knew there was no way he'd let her leave without explaining herself.
Her heart drops to her stomach when he approached her. He stood so close that she could feel his breath fanning her face. She closed her eyes firmly. His cologne hitting her nostrils and making her stomach to churn. It felt good but, she wanted the feeling to stop.
She felt as he heaved a sigh, wafting warm air to her face. Bushra stiffened and shifted back. He held her shoulders and draw her closer to him. 'Were you expecting to see me talking to other girls or you were looking for something else?" He murmured imperturbably. He didn't care if she answered him or not. 'I don't have time for all of that nonsense. And have in mind – love has never tempted to me. It's always been more of a liability than anything."
He walks out of the closet after he had said that. She finally opened her eyes when she sensed he wasn't there anymore. She releases a long, deep breath, dropping to her knees.
She was weak—Mahir made her weak. She didn't like that. She didn't like how he has control over her body and she couldn't do anything about it. And the final thing she'd want was for him to figure out she was incapable whenever he was too close to her. She seems to shut down completely and forget what she had in mind whenever he was around her. His cologne didn't help matters—it made her stomach churn with anxiety.
She slowly got to her feet and made her way out of the closet. She peeped – there wasn't any sign of him in the room. He must've left the room or entered the bathroom. Whichever was it, she didn't care. All she wanted was to disappear from the room before he shows up again and torment her like he just did.
She heads towards the door and dashed out.