Chapter 30: The Surprise!

'Just nine-months… only nine-months left," she kept whispering to herself as she paced back and forth in her room. Like a remoted doll, Bushra trooped to her bedside and picked up her phone. She dialed his number again—it wasn't going through. He must've blocked her. For the past seven days, she has called Muhammad to explain herself but he never picks up her calls or return any of her texts. It was torturing. She'd prefer if he yells at her, say mean and hurtful words to her, rant out his anger to her than go completely silent.
It was tormenting…
She tossed the phone across the bed and plumped down, heaving a sigh of frustration. She held her head that has been splitting with pain for hours, in her hand—his thoughts and the event swirling in her mind. She had cried so much for the past one-week that she had gone numb and couldn't tear up anymore.
And for the past 7 days, she hasn't laid her eyes on Mahir—it wasn't what she wanted, but she has to face it and deal with the fact that there was nothing to get herself tensed about when it comes to Mahir—he's a jerk and he will always be. And she was glad they only had nine-months left. She couldn't wait. She couldn't wait to be free from this distressing thing he calls marriage—or whatever he takes it as.
She walks across the room and made her way to the balcony to get some fresh air, and clear her mind.
The night was silent, the boulevard lights were turned on—lighting up the whole backyard, unveiling the beautiful garden and extravagance waterfall pool. The two most relaxing places to completely forget reality—obviously after her study, where she reads her books.
She heaved a sigh as she stared out toward the pool, where she sometimes spot Mahir sitting beside it to relax. As if he was there, she intensely stared at the hammock he lays down on—waves off gloom washing over her face.
She wished she met Muhammad earlier—before all this chaos. Before she met Mahir, when her life was a bit simpler and serene.
Muhammad was her sunshine, sweet blessing, drop of joy and the snuggle pad of her life. Despite of what happened, her love for him multiplies every single day, and she wasn't ready to let go of him. But she has to face reality and the fact that she had lost him.
Her eyes were still on the hammock. If she had known, she would've said no to him and rejected his proposal. She wouldn't have agreed to marry him even if she would end up with Sadiq. At least it was better than being married to Mahir and absolutely not knowing what exactly is happening.
She didn't do anything but just hung her head and let the tears flow. She could feel the intense pain in her heart. No one should feel that much pain—especially when you don't deserve it. She doesn't deserve to be in that kind of pain when she knew she didn't do anything wrong. It's not fair…
Lying to Muhammad was never an option, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth and tell him about everything—he wouldn't believe her even if she did. She wanted to be with him but somehow, Mahir managed to come into the picture and ruined it for her. He always finds a way to ruin her happiness, her peace.
She hates him…
'You're standing too close to the rail."
She knew the owner of the voice without even turning around. He walked closer and stood behind her. 'Do you want to fall off?" He spoke again. She could sense the panic in his voice. 'I'm talking to you, Bushra."
She ignored him. She still had her eyes glued to the pool side, fuming with fury. She clenched the rail firmly, her chest heaving up and down. She felt as though she'd explode just by hearing his voice again.
He moved closer, taking a grip of her arm. 'Bushra…"
Just like that, she snapped. All that rage came out faster than magma and just as destructive. 'What? What more do want from me? You want to hurt me and take my happiness—you have, so what else do you want from me again, Mahir? We made an agreement but you somehow manage to ruin things for me. I loved him; you drew us apart. Why? How do you even sleep at night knowing there are people you hurt? What's on your mind while doing the things that you know it will surely hurt me?" She wiped her face every second but the tears didn't seem to stop spouting out. Her lips trembled as she cried and spoke. 'I'm trying, I'm trying really hard but I can't pretend it doesn't hurt when it really does."
She doesn't understand how he was okay with himself, knowing he emotionally destroyed her.
He didn't do anything but just stood still and stare at her cry her guts out. He lets out a shaky breath; it was the first time he'd confess he felt a slight guilt for what he has done to her. He didn't want to be with her, he was sure of that—seeing her with another man eradicates him. It feels as though that man was slowly slicing his skin open while covering the wound with salt.
He wanted her to be with someone—deep within. He didn't care if she was happy with that person or not; but he couldn't bring it to himself to let her be with someone.
Maybe, if he hugs her now, she'll forget about everything. She'd forgive him and move on. They'd go back to bumping into each other at the backyard and having brief conversations or having unnecessary fights or just ignoring each other.
'I wish life had a rewind button." She removed the diamond ring she had on since before they got married and threw it at him before brushing passed him.
Too late—he should've hugged her.
**
The next day…
It was past twelve noon and Bushra was still in her pajamas. She hadn't even gotten off bed, left alone have her breakfast.
She heard the soft knock on her door before it slowly swings open. It was her personal maid, she wheeled in a cart of food, her head ducked.
'Aisha, I've told you that I'm not hungry and I will look for you when I'm ready to eat," Bushra spoke irksomely, sitting up on the bed.
'Y-yes, ma'am you've told me. But…" She paused and looked behind her. He was standing by the door, hands crossed on his broad chest as he watched them.
Aisha bowed hurriedly and walked out. Bushra hissed faintly and laid back down, covering herself under the quilt and hugging it to her body.
She could hear his footsteps getting brassier with each step he takes. He halted, staring at her petite body figure. He knew she was still angry—of course she was. She literally removed the ring he proposed to her and threw it to his face. It was something he had never seen her done. He has never seen her remove it from her finger. It was heart wrecking.
'Your maid told me you haven't eaten and you have been laying around all day," he spoke softly. She heard everything but ignored him. She needn't to talk to him. Heck, she didn't want to see him at the moment.
'Can you please just get up and eat something? It's almost Asr and we have… places to go—now." He pulled the quilt away, uncovering her body. He took in her appearance; she was wearing a peppered-red knee length gown that hugged her body, displaying her shape. Her hips a tad wider than other women. And her legs looked to smooth and fair—it made him wonder if she has ever played a child and got bruises on her legs. It was so well-defined and picturesque.
'I'm not going anywhere with you," she declares and got off the bed. She sauntered into the bathroom to have her shower.
When she got out, he was still in her room, sitting comfortably on a sofa as he waited for her. He rose to his feet when she appeared. 'What are you still doing in my room?" She asked infuriatingly.
'You should get dressed now and eat, and please stop asking questions. We leave at exactly 6pm, okay?" He stated and made his way out of the room. She hissed, walking across the room to her dressing mirror.
She began to apply her lotion angrily. What made him think she'd ever follow him to wherever he was going? What made him think that she'd keep letting him toy her around like a string-puppet? She was sick and tired of his imprudent orders and merciless deeds. She has let him play with her feelings, her emotions too much. And if she gives him another chance to hurt her, she might not be able to handle the despair.
She moved to her closet and picked out a nice blue-grey Abaya and slipped into it after wearing her undies.
She moved to the food cart and opened it. It was a well-prepared spaghetti with roasted chicken and fried plantain. It looked delightful, but she might throw up trying to eat without having any appetite. She took the bowl of fruits she saw instead and settled down on her bed.
She took the first bite of her fruit, it was so good that she had to investigate it to see the content inside; there were some pineapple, strawberries, bananas, kiwi fruits, grapes, oranges and blueberries. She wasn't a fan of kiwi but it tasted so good having it combined with other fruits.
She finished the whole bowl and proceeded with her activity of doing nothing before Mahir barged in. She turned on her phone and dialed Yasmin's number. They haven't spoken since the last day she saw Muhammad dejected eyes staring at her in another man's arms.
She has been avoiding her and also Madina. She needed her time alone and the only solution was to shut them out, to avoid getting them worked up with her worries. There was no way she'd tell either of them, perceptibly. They didn't know about the contract—so it was redundant to tell them about Muhammad.
She plans on telling them about everything… but the time hasn't come yet. She wasn't ready for their elite reaction, mainly her sister, Yasmin.
'Adda Bushra, what the hell? I have been calling you nonstop but you don't answer or return any of my calls or texts. How are you feeling now? I disturbed Mubarak to call your husband and he told us you weren't feeling well. Are you okay?" Yasmin spoke breathlessly. Bushra could tell how worried her sister was by the looks of her face through the phone.
Bushra smiled faintly and nodded. Mahir lied and she wasn't surprised. The man that hadn't even seen her in days still managed to lie to her sister and his friend. 'I'm fine, Yasmin. I'm so sorry about that, I didn't want to bother you or Madina or aunty, that's why I haven't told you guys. But, I'm fine now. It was just fever."
'Hmm! Ok, if you say so." She said, with a slight mistrust in her tone. 'So, are we expecting?" Yasmin's face lit up when she asked the question. Bushra protruded her eyes out, not expecting to hear that kind of question from her sister. Maybe she was expecting to hear all that kind of questions, but not that early. They've been married for just three months.
'Yasmin! You're so shameless. How can you look me dead in the eye and ask me that? OMG!" Bushra exclaimed, exceptionally. Yasmin laughed heartily. She didn't regret what she said. 'What? You know everyone has their eyes on you guys, especially his mother obviously. He's her only child and I am pretty sure she cannot wait to meet her grandbabies."
Yasmin was right—she has heard his mother talking about how she couldn't wait to see her grandchildren, not knowing the kind of marriage her son was in. She felt sorry for Hajiya Aisha, and for herself for letting him talk her into this miserable marriage.
Scratch that.
She brought everything upon herself. Mahir had never mentioned not wanting to have kids before she thoughtlessly brought the contract idea. Now she might not see her own children anytime soon—at least not with him.
'Oh, Adila is up! I have to go. We'll talk later, okay?" Yasmin didn't have time to hear her respond. She ended the call and Bushra was back to reality which only offered her soreness of heart and misery. She heaved a sigh and kept the phone on her side drawer.
She heard his voice out of nowhere. She jerked her head up to the door and met him standing by the doorway, arms folded over his chest. He had changed from the jellabiya he was wearing to a dark blue long-sleeve shirt with denim jeans. He looks good in every attire he wears.
'But we cannot do anything about it. Not when we've made an agreement." He shoulder-shrugged and strolled in. 'Why aren't you ready? C'mon, we have to leave before we get late—mommy would blame me if we arrive late." He pulled her up to her feet, as though she weighed nothing.
'Mommy? Where are we going?" She had to ask when he mentioned his mother. They were going to his parent's place? A wedding? One of those rich people's events?
'Less talking, more preparing, hm?" He raises a brow and she had no choice but to do as he said—for his mother's sake.
Within thirty minutes, they were on their way to lord knows where he was taking her. She had her eyes glued to the window, tracking every turn they took, and it didn't seem like they were going to his parents'.
'Can you please tell me where exactly we're going?" She finally asked, after the long silence.
He slowly averted his eyes from his laptop screen. 'Patience," he told her, his lips curved upwards.
He was smiling at her?
She heaved a sigh and turned her head back to the window. It seemed like they were leaving the city. Her body tensed up just as her heart began to pound at a high rate.
They were unquestionably going to the airport. Possibly to pick up his mother. It was the reason why he told her mommy blame him if they were late? It had to be that. But, why did he have to tag her along with him?
'We're going to the airport? Mommy traveled? We're picking her up at the airport?" She blasted him with questions.
He managed another smile. 'Relax, please. You'll find out soon, alright?"
She breathed out and relaxed into her seat. She closed her eyes, gazing into void. Maybe if she closed her eyes and stop gazing out the window, she'll feel less worked up.
It didn't work.
She felt more uneasy and fervent. If this was one of his silly tricks; she vowed to force his guts out and feed it to him!
'We're here," he announced, as the car slowed down right in front of a plane.
Waves of anxiety washed through her mind as shivers creep through her body. She took a deep breath and relaxed. It was hard for her mind to be in panic when her body was relaxed. Plus, she has nothing to be anxious about. Maybe she was getting herself agitated for nothing.
'It's the airport, not an underground or a dungeon, where I'll cut you into pieces and sell your body parts. C'mon, let's go." His door opens when the car came to a halt in front of a private jet. He moved to the other side of the car and opened the door for her himself. She has seemed to forget how to move her limbs; he helped her out and they strolled towards the plane.
'Where's mommy?" She asked when she finally found her voice.
'At home, of course." He told her and clasp their hands together. She paused but he didn't budge. 'Where are we going then? Whose jet is this?" She exclaimed, trying to free her hand but he never dislodged.
'Haven't you seen the name written on the plane? It's Abba's plane," He said, taking a glimpse at her. He paused at the plane stairs and freed her hand. 'After you," he spoke softly. A smile playing across his face.
'Not until you tell me where we're going," she declared, folding her arms over her chest. He looks around the large space. They were basically the only people boarding at the moment. There were few workers, walking up and down the ground and his guards, waiting for their bosses next order.
'Look, I am trying to do something nice for you to make up for the crap I did last week, but you're making it hard for me. Can you please just relax and trust me? I- I know you don't trust me, but I promise I'll explain everything when we board."
She lifted a brow, then sent a quick, distrustful look over his face. It's a good thing he knew she doesn't trust him—at all. He was the last person she'd trust with a needle, left alone her life. The only reason she'd enter this plane was because he lowered his ego and pleaded, and he mentioned something about making up to her for the crap he did.
So, he was remorse for ruining things for her with Muhammad?
Half an hour later, they were set to take off. She watched as he helped her strap her seatbelt around her waist. 'There," he mouthed, smiling, proud of what he had done.
He sat next to her and strapped his seatbelt also. If she could remember, there were extra seats he could sit on but he chose to torture her by sitting next to her with his cologne filling her nostrils, and making her stomach churn.
'Ready?" He asked her as he gazes at her. She stared back at him, unable to utter a single word to him. She was eager—all she wanted to hear was there destination.
'Hmm?" He shoots his brows to the roof, waiting for her to answer. 'Are you ready to meet your sister and niece?" He asked her.
Her entire body jerked to a standstill. Her body didn't know how to react, it just shut down for a moment. She froze to a point where she was hardly breathing.
'We're going to New York?" She asked when she finally regained from the shock. He nodded, sending a smile her way. 'We're going to New York?" She repeated and Mahir nodded, his smile getting wider.