This is a short one.

We grow as we move further in sha Allah. 

***

When Mubarak saw Sa'ima again, staying away was the last thing he wanted to do. He approached her, caging her right in his mother's domain. First in his sister's room then at the firm, he hadn't slept much that night. When next he saw her, he had lost himself and he just wanted to take her out of his head and out of his system.

Why was he finding such a single act so much difficult to do?Maybe it was because he still had a chance with her? He knew it was not too late for her to leave his brother. He had looked it up, according to the shari'ah, she wouldn't be off limits to him, if his brother released her. He knew his brother was just being kind to her, he couldn't have started loving her in just a few weeks.

She could come to an agreement with Bilaal and he would release her honourably, he saw it in her eyes, that evening when he came into the house and found them preparing dinner with Hajiya and his sister Wafiya, she was as aware of him as he was of her, yes he saw fear too, but he understood it must be from the guilt of still having feelings for him while she was married to his brother. But he told her to talk to Bilaal, if only she had done so, this would all be over. 

He knew they would be okay. 

Mubarak stood at the kitchen doorway, partially leaning on the mahogany that framed the entrance as he watched her do everything with arresting precision, how she measured the mayonnaise from the jar, into a bowl, added a squeeze of lemon to it, sprinkled some salt, and a crush of black pepper. Every movement of hers synched with a feeling within him, subtle, squeezing, fierce, crushing and undulating... a deep feeling, enough for him to make her see reason. 

He still remembered the phone call he got from her father on their wedding eve.  And as he watched her now it ached a lot, not being able to relate everything to her. 

He had started losing it during the past few days that he had been back in London, at some point he felt like losing it all. Scratch that, he was losing it all now.

Mubarak continued to watch as Sa'ima transferred the salad dressing into a container, she moved to the refrigerator, her red veil deftly covering her head, trailing after her. She looked so angelic, pure, innocent making his heart hitch in his chest. So he moved, covering the tormenting distance between them. When she closed the refrigerator door he was standing next to her, immediately making her eyes dilate with fear. He hated that he put that in her. He wanted to touch her so bad it hurt. 

The container she held dropped to the floor and she quickly averted her eyes to the mess. He saw the slight tremble of her jaw before she scrambled to pick it up. Leaning on the counter beside him to brace himself Mubarak watched her, giving her time to calm down. He didn't want to put her in a fix. Why was she so scared of him? 

"Leave it, it's acrylic and it's unbreakable."

She looked up fiercely, he saw her throat work and fear clearly written in her eyes,  "I will not talk to you, leave."

This was crazy, he knew he should leave her but he didn't. He couldn't. He needed to do something, get something, find a solid ground to hold on to. He held on to something and it moved, soft, delicate, beneath his hold, and he was soon breathing down her face. 

"You have not relayed my message." He said, his teeth gritting against each other, her back was now against the refrigerator. He was so mad, but his subject of aggression was still unknown to him. He couldn't figure if he was mad at her, or his brother or himself for leaving. 

She looked right into his eyes, and that fear was gone. It was replaced by rage.  "Why don't you do it yourself, you think you scaring me off will make me panic and submit to your whims?"

"You have betrayed our deal, you said you were going to talk to him, you can't do this." Why didn't she do it? Was she now okay with being Bilaal's wife? Ya Allah, this was draining.

"Mubarak, are you drunk? If you are it is such a pity, and if you are not I will like to inform you that you can do the task yourself, your brother is also in this house and he can walk in right now, I don't think you want him to see you squaring his wife like this." He could tell she was bluffing, but she still hadn't given him a sign for him to know that he still had a chance with her. 

A pain stabbed his chest and he ground his teeth together, he stood feet apart still caging her.

"I know you haven't told him, I don't know what else you've said to him to make him believe you. But unless you are still playing his head he will find out soon enough. Or I can do us both a favour and tell him everything, what do you say about that?" 

He hated doing this, he hated her father more. 

"Why? I can do the honours myself, my husband is my confidant, I'd like to tell you that I have kept nothing from him, and I'll like to see you try to break my home, if you think you're going to keep threatening me with this for me to say yes to you then you are highly delusional. That would happen only in your sick dream, but I am too priceless even for that. I only appear in the noblest of dreams, not trashy ones, I will only appear as a nightmare to you, Mubarak Bugaje."

Mubarak's eyes softened, so did his stance, he was leaving a breathing room now between them, "I knew it, you've not breathed it to him, this is just a bluff." He leaned in closer to her, his lips right next to her ear. Her eyes widened, and he could tell the fear was back. 

He was suddenly consumed by her, he could only smell her perfume, a fruity scent, that left him giddy for more, wrong, wrong, wrong. But oh so right!  "I'm going to have you first before he does. Then I will see how your claim of nobility goes. Hmm?" He let his thumb trail the side of her jaw, and went down tracing the curve of her lips, he didn't know why he was doing this. But he wasn't even thinking until she pushed his hand away from her.

Then placed her hands on his chest and shoved him with all her might, he moved because she had caught him unawares. 

Mubarak bent down holding his knees, what had just possessed him, to act the way he did? He wasn't that much of a monster to behave in such a way, that too with his brother's wife. Ya Allah, it hurt a lot. A tear dropped from his eyes. 

A movement caught his eyes and he turned to meet his younger brother's hard gaze on him. Salis. He had no idea his brother was home, not that he cared if anyone witnessed what just happened. They'd all caused this misery upon him. 

 "That was not right Ya Mubarak, how could you let this consume you? Please let go of her. I know it was a hasty decision to get them married before you give your reasons, but she is now Ya Bilaal's you need to keep your distance, you know what will happen if Hajiya hears about this, and worse if Ya Bilaal seesQ you cornering his wife."

 Mubarak glared at Salis, at twenty-five, his little brother liked to think of himself as the counsellor in the family. That was not going to cut it with him. Anyone who would ask him to leave Sa'ima was his sworn enemy, they had no idea what it took for him to leave her that day, on their wedding day. With the hope that when it was all over he would come back and explain things to her only for him to hear that the wedding had taken place. With his brother. 

It hurt him that she wouldn't trust him enough to wait and hear from him. His eyes gleamed with tears. It hurt him that he could do this to his blood. It hurt him that his brother would do this to him, despite knowing how he felt about her. 

But then he had sent that damning message to his brother on the wedding morning. 

A one-liner that changed their lives. "I'm sorry, I can't do this," it said. 

"Leave." Mubarak now sneered at his brother. When Salis stared agape at him, he decided to leave the space for him. No one would get to him, not even himself, which was why it would be better if he shut everyone out. 

He headed to his room and fired up his computer after a detour to his praying corner, hopefully for the first time if he ordered his brain to focus on something, it may do just that.

*****

Mubarak had succeeded in shutting things out of his head for a while after he performed an ablution and prayed two units of prayers, seeking Allah's forgiveness for what he just did. He sat on the bed with his laptop. Just then he jerked up from his work, to see the storm that threatened to knock his door off its hinges. Keeping his computer off his laps, he straightened to his full height to look at the intruder, but it was already too late before he saw it coming, it had landed hard on his face, his whole being resonated upon the impact. It took a while for him to orient himself after the most hurtful physical blow he had ever taken, landed on his face. 

Bilaal!

Mubarak staggered on his feet his neck twisted from the pain, and his face bore the brunt of the burn. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see his brother there, outraged. He had hoped so for a while. As weird as it sounded even to himself. 

He held his hand to his face nursing the blow, it would definitely bruise. An awful bruise. Moving his jaws to make sure they were still in place; he contemplated leaving the room, but something inside him had snapped, Bilaal had no right to do what he did. Not now, not when he should have known better. He lunged forward. Giving his brother a taste of his own medicine.

None of them was relenting from the scuffle. Right and left hooks and jabs exchanged, a couple of choke-holds later, Bilaal panted.

"That was for touching my wife. You back off from her, Sa'ima is now mine and if you are a Milquetoast to face the reality then I'm sorry to say this but you need to grow up already and be a man. I don't have to tell you the implications of what you are doing you already know that. But this will be the last time you come near my wife with whatever face. She is off limits.

If you still loved her why did you leave her in the first place, huh? Is it some kind of sick joke to you? Just for the thrill, because you are too insensitive to care about other people's feelings? How could you even do that? She is my wife!"

That first blow hadn't hurt as much as these words hurt coming from his brother, how could he? They loved each other, they left things for each other. they sacrificed everything and anything for each other, yet the one time he told him he couldn't do it, his brother had let off his back and went on to love the one woman he was only capable of loving. No, little brother what you did was unfair, I was wrong, but you weren't a saint either. 

Mubarak smirked at his brother, "I see someone is entwined with love." he said, flicking the collar of his shirt, he had always dangled the bone in front of his brother, and he always took the bait. He wouldn't miss this for the life of him. Even if it was the only way he could get back at him. "How is she, little brother? Is she that good, making you throw jabs like that, she must have really gotten you hooked. But it's not your fault her beauty does tha.." 

He only saw the shadows, before Bilaal shoved him with his shoulder throwing him off balance, something cracked within him, making him frunt, it hurt like crazy. He grunted. He was on his back when Bilaal went down on him straddling him. His knuckles met his midriff hitting him just below his rib-cage, God! Since when did his brother pack some mean punches like that? Damn! Sa'i, what an excellent muse you are.

He had had enough, that was all he was giving Bilaal, he should let it all out, if it were him, he would do worse knowing someone had come close to touching his woman, which was what he just did this evening.

 God! I'm an awful human. 

He hit solid beneath his feet, bracing his legs on the bedside, Mubarak pushed back and sat up, he gripped Bilaal in a choke-hold across the shoulders and this time around the brothers exercised their strength as no one was willing to back down. They tumbled about the marbled and carpeted floor, thrashing anything and everything in the wake of their frustration. 

The room was in shambles when they both sat at the opposite ends of the room; panting, gasping for air. 

Mubarak wheezed, out of breath, darn he should have had this on tape. What would his brother think if he asked for a rematch?  "Great... work...out, it's been long," he said, stretching his neck to loosen a knot there. 

"Bully, you throw a mean punch," Bilaal said, glaring at him, his hand bracing his left arm to relieve his injured shoulder from its weight. Yes, he had to tend to that one, Mubarak was aware of how bad that pull would be before he made his move. 

Yes, definitely a disgusting, mean, awful human. 

"I have to go to the clinic for my jaw, I think you've dislocated something there, gosh what on earth has possessed you?" Mubarak mumbled in apparent pain, he turned wincing, looking at where his brother sat on the floor his back against the wall, with one outstretched leg and one bent knee. 

He narrowed his eyes into slits, "I think you should come with me too, you are going to have someone look at that shoulder of yours." He breathed heavily before he let out a harsh laugh, "By the way. Is she worth it?" he grunted, the pain becoming more prominent in his jaw.

Bilaal's forehead creased. "If she is worth you throwing punches at me, then imagine what she is worth to her husband. She is rightfully mine, hence she is not yours to chat up, threaten, or freaking touch. Keep your hands to yourself, brother. Trust me there would be blood the next time you try something like that." 

Nice one, keep telling me that, don't you think I know? What do you think made me resort to hitting you, dummy? I was there first and you had to lay claim on her before me, idiot, suck it up, you hijacked my girl, when I was indisposed. Well more like saving the world. Same difference.

 He sounded whiny even to himself, so he didn't bother vocalizing any of that, instead Mubarak tasted the salt and iron in his mouth "Mean, you have me splattering blood already." Shifting to the left, he dug out a facial tissue from his jeans pocket and spat saliva mixed with blood onto it. "She is strong alright. You want me to let you in on a little secret?" 

Bilaal didn't even flinch.

 "You won't respond anyway, so I am just going to say it. She didn't crack, not even once. And trust me I have been very persuasive."

"This is all a game for you, right?" Bilaal asked, his nose flaring with the residue of his rage.

"Not as it is for you."

Bilaal stilled, looking back at him. Mubarak gave him a knowing smirk, "Oh don't you think I know what you are playing at? What you did there?" Bilaal lunged at him again this time targeting his nose. Gosh! This was the most brutal of all. He thought he might have just pissed his pants. 

"Ouch! What the heck... " Mubarak grunted, clenching his nose agonizingly, he rolled on the floor, looking up with a bloody nose and smiled, "Don't worry your secret is safe with me." He winked at Bilaal and rose from the floor. That was for special effects, he had no intention of divulging such secrets, but since they were in the zone his brother should have it too.

"Go and get her, those wounds won't heal on their own, you have her at least to nurse them for you." But then he couldn't help it, so he smiled and added "For now." he clicked his tongue against his cheek.

Bilaal glared at him and got up from his position painfully. He walked to Mubarak's closet, took a fresh shirt and peeled what was left of his ruined green shirt from his sore body. He flung the shirt over his shoulders, which made him grunt in pain. He worked the buttons fast without his gaze straying from Mubarak's. 

That was when Mubarak's eyes landed on the shirt that just slipped up his brother's arm. "You took the white one!" he bellowed.

Bilaal pulled the sleeves down, putting the cuff buttons in place, "Next time think before you ruin my green shirt!"

He didn't know why his brother was so obsessed about the orderliness of things, but he knew one thing, you want to piss off Bilaal, ruin his stack of things. You want to ruin his night, borrow his shirts. 

Now for him, it was a different story, You want to piss Mubarak off? Take his girl, and his brother had not only taken his girl, but he had also married her and made her fall in love with him. That was the biggest blow life had ever dealt him. And now he was sore all over. First, he needed a hot shower then he needed to hit the clinic, he could use his advice himself.

Then he would have a serious talk with his heart and brain. His heart needed to take the back seat.

****

So, basically this is a portion of BBW from Mubarak's POV. We shall see a bit more of such  crappies in the future, just a few. 

By the way, what is Maryam up to? 

Let's find out in the next chappy, what do you think will happen when the two distraught people meet? 

hahaha, sipping my cuppa by the side, one thing I know is, we are going to have some fun. 

Who is ready? 

Umm Yasmeen.💞