Chapter Seventeen

            THIS WASN'T A GOOD SIGN, Fatiha Hassan thought as she stared with furrowed brows and pursed lips at the text message on her phone.

Aslamualaikum wa rahamatullahi wabarakatu, Fatiha. How have you been?

For the fifth time since she'd woken up to find the message, Fatiha had felt light and weighted both at the same time. At first she'd thought it was Faisal but something gnawed at her as she reread the message over and over again.

It was an unknown number and the text message had arrived an hour before fajr. The greeting of peace written in full was something Faisal didn't do, unless he had found hidaya during his time away.

Who could it be? she pondered. She hadn't given her number to anyone recently. The person could have gotten it from her business account on WhatsApp, she concluded but decided it was best to check who had the number.

She was just about to go to her TrueCaller app when another text appeared on her screen. Clicking on it, Fatiha's breath came up short as she read the short note that had been sent to her. Oh, sorry. I forgot to tell you, it's me, Munir.

Munir? Fatiha's body tensed in discomfort, but the slight tickle in her belly denied fully that distress.

Why was he texting her? How did he get her number? She had a ton of questions to ask him but from past experience she figured it would be better to avoid talking to him on such an important day even though they had agreed on a truce.

I got your number from your business page. Hope you don't mind.

I do mind, she thought but didn't reply back. At least he had the decency to tell her where he'd gotten her number from. On second thought, it made her feel like she had been stalked. She would have preferred it if he'd asked his sister for it personally. Or if he'd just asked her for it.

"You've gone insane, Fatiha Hassan. I swear." She muttered to herself as she got up from her prayer mat. She tossed her phone to the bed, folded the mat then dropped it in its place on top her closet before heading for the bathroom.

The sound of her notification led her back to her bed. I just wanted to let you know. You can save mine. Rolling her eyes, Fatiha dropped the phone. He was really taking this no-longer-enemy thing to the fullest, she thought and just then another message came in.

If you want... That is. It read.

"He must have money to waste," she muttered as she did the maths in her head. Twenty naira for a couple words, she thought with little amusement as the derailment of her nearly empty bank account and airtime balance mocked her.

Fatiha's fingers lingered over the keyboard. Her eyes skimmed severally over the short text messages as thoughts of her saving his number flirted with her brain.

Don't do it.

She didn't have to think twice. There was no way she was saving his number. She tossed her phone back on her bed, watched it bounce three times before it landed facedown.

Fatiha threw her hands in the air around her head and face as if warding off evil. Today was a big day and she wasn't going to let Munir Adam Madaki ruin it for her. She had a fiancé to meet and one hell of a conversation to have.

A few hours later, Fatiha was nearly hyperventilating with stress.

It's for your own good. Regardless of how nerve ranking it made her, she continued to repeat the words her sisters and friend had tried to hammer into her skull since the day before.

It had been all fine and good this morning and she had been veering to get it done with. But now it felt like there was a party of rowdy drummers in her heart. 

It's for my own good. She repeated silently and let the phrase run its course as she took in the scene around her. She was seated at the far back of the event hall where the wedding party was being held, sandwiched between Madinah and Nafeesah.

Fatiha squirmed in her seat, discomfort rolling off of her in waves. She searched for her best friend as best she could while lowering her head. She had been the one who had planned the entire thing and now she was no where to be found. Fatiha couldn't believe the girl had sent them to the wedding of some unknown towner.

"Chill," Madinah seethed her way.

"I'm chill," she lied, her eyes scanning the crowd again as she reached to scratch her nose.

"Don't. You. Dare!" Madinah caught her hand with a snarl.

Noticing what she'd almost done, Fatiha dropped her hand then apologized. "Sorry. I'm just nervous." She confessed.

"Well, don't be." Her sister ordered. "You just have to sit or stand elegantly as he defends himself. But don't give in too quickly if he apologizes. He'll only take you for a fool who's blind in love, and then, he'll feel like he has the privilege to be a prick."

Fatiha blew out a heavy sigh of fatigue. Her anxiety was too much she felt herself perspiring from it. Plus, it didn't do well that she was the only caked up person among her tiny group.

"The wedding seems posh, don't you guys agree?" Madinah whispered enthused as she shoved another handful of chin-chin in her mouth. Her gleaming eyes betrayed the seriousness that had been present there just a few moment ago.

Nafeesah agreed with a nod as she watched the people milling about.

Fatiha dared another look through the dimly lit hall. It was way past four and the reception party was yet to begin. She surveyed the crowd for Noor and that was when she spotted him.

It should probably be unallowed, haram even, for one's heart to thrum so beastly for their safety, but that was precisely what Fatiha's heart did.

This was it! she told herself. This was how she was supposed to feel; unable to keep her eyes off him or her heart sane. 

He was dressed in a dark green kaftan, the only dark color in the midst of the brightly dressed men he was in conversation with. He looked the finest too. His dark skin gleamed under the soft light, his wide lips stretched even wider as he grinned and laughed at something one of his companions said. His lovely dark eyes were full of amusement.

"There he is!" Noor's voice chirped out.

Fatiha turned to her friend with querying eyes. "Where have you been?" she demanded.

"Sorry I'm late," her friend apologized. "But enough about me, you need to go and talk to him now. Better sooner than later."

Fatiha gave her friend a piercing look. "Noor—" she began to argue, but her friend shot out of her seat like a firecracker.

Rounding the table to Fatiha's side, Nooriya pulled her up. "You need to go now. Go and talk to him."

"But I don't—"

"Now!"

Forced out of her seat, Fatiha had no other choice but to head over to her fiancé. Her heart rose in her chest in trepidation with each step she took. Under her breath, she muttered du'as for calmness. She tapped on her chest to make sure the blood pumping organ was still stuck in its rightful space. When she closed the gap between she and Faisal, she sucked in a huge breath then called out to him.

Either he had been expecting her or he was just surprised to hear her voice. Faisal quickly faced her but the look on his face didn't break her like his words did. "Fatiha, what do you think you are doing here?"

——————

         SHE LET HIM lead her out of the hall, away from the crowd and eavesdropping ears.

Fatiha forced herself to follow her fiancé, her mind in a loop. What do you think you are doing here? That was the first thing he'd said to her. Fatiha still couldn't comprehend what it had meant.

After excusing himself from his party, he'd asked her to follow him. And just as she'd known she would, Fatiha had silently done so with a lowered head to avoid the stares she felt on her person.

They stopped walking when they got outside. The slight evening breeze billowing through her veil offered her some sort of calm and respite.

When Fatiha lifted her head to look up at Faisal, he was easing himself into a blue Hilux. Tossing open the passenger door, he ordered, "Get in".

"W-what?" she spluttered.

"It's mine. Get in." He repeated with impatience like that explained everything.

With a cautious glance around her, Fatiha hesitantly stepped into the car.  Then after a contemplative second of thought, she left the door open. She wasn't one to mix with her non-mahram's, much less in a secluded spot like in a car parked away from peoples eyes. With tinted glass?! Fatiha noted aghast.

"Shut the door."

The brusque command drew her attention to her companion. She let out a nervous chuckle. "You know my opinion about these one on one meetings, Faisal. I can't —"

"Shut the damn door, Fatiha." He interrupted, his tone steel cold and hard.

Fatiha's heartbeat accelerated at the sharpness of his voice. She closed the door with shaking hands.

Apart from the soft wheezing of the air conditioner he had turned on, no other sound was made. Faisal sat so stiff and rigid in his seat that Fatiha felt uncomfortable both in the car and in his presence.

A myriad of questions swarm through her mind as she sat there. One, they were currently seated in a car he claimed was his. How he'd afforded it she couldn't guess. Two, he was giving her curt commands like that was how he had always behaved. And three, he wasn't even regarding her as someone who was soon to be his partner, but a nuisance.

Fatiha swallowed. She could feel a sort of unpleasant wave rolling off of her companion. She stole a glance his way. One hand lay idly atop the steering wheel, while the fingers of the other thrummed a beat against his thigh. He looked like he was calm but Fatiha knew better.

She thought of the dress she was currently wearing and the makeup she had on. He must be furious. She opened her mouth to say something, to break the ice, but he beat her to it.

"What exactly is it you're wearing?"

She glanced down at the expensive attire and was tempted to say "an abaya?" but thought better of that. "I—"

"And your face," he scoffed with a shake of his head. "I can't even look at you, Fatiha. Do you know what you look like? How you look? All this is haram."

Fatiha's heart stilled. Her breathing seized and her eyes stopped moving. Was this what he had to say to her after everything he'd put her through? After the endless unanswered calls? The unanswered texts?

She forced herself to draw in a breath then release it. Was she dreaming right now? She looked squarely now at the man beside her. He looked and sounded like her Faisal, but he didn't feel like him.

"You're not..." she let out a shuddering breath before starting again. "You're not going to ask me how I've been? You're not going to explain what happened? Why you suddenly went off the face of the earth? Why you didn't answer my calls? Or reply my texts?" She laughed dryly. "You'd rather talk about my dress and makeup instead?"

Faisal dragged out a sigh, like he'd rather be anywhere else than here, having this conversation. "Yes." He told her not looking at her. "I'd rather talk about how you've presented yourself. I told you not to use makeup. I said I didn't like flashy dresses, but here you are breaking my rules." This time he turned to her and she wished he hadn't.

The look in his eyes was one she'd never seen before, but that tone of his when his ego talked through him made Fatiha shudder. It was his hate for disrespect urging him on. She had always hated that about him but a lot of her aunties had told her patience and compromise was what kept a relationship going, and as the naive and smitten girl she'd been back then she'd stuck around hoping that he would change with time.

"You're supposed to be my wife, Fatiha. You're meant to respect every word I say, do as I say." He frowned. "Do you honestly think I would seriously go into a life commitment with someone who has zero respect for her husband? You're here showing off what belongs to me to other men. People who would do anything to get between your two legs."

Bile rose up to her throat. Her stomach knotted. Her heart raced madly like a boar. Fatiha reached out to open the door only to find it locked. She snapped her head back to look at Faisal, her eyes round in fear. Her breathing came out harsher now and she could feel the sweat trailing down the lane of her back.

Faisal reached into his car's compartment and pulled out a tissue box he handed to her. "Wipe it off. All of it." He ordered.

Fatiha shook her head and forced herself to swallow. She needed to get out. The car was beginning to feel claustrophobic and so was her chest. She needed to leave. "Open the door," she wheezed.

"Not until you wipe it off," her fiancé said.

"Open the door, Faisal, please." She begged with a sob. "I can't breathe."

When he still refused to do as she asked, Fatiha began to pound on the glass. The door finally clicked open and she scurried out of it, falling to her knees on the leaves stained clearing.

Fatiha took in air like her life depended on it —which it actually did. Tears ran down her cheeks as she cried silently. When she finally looked back up, the sky was being kissed by pink and orange hues.

Faisal stood in front of her. "I saw you with him," he informed her as he crouched to her level. His eyes leveling with hers. "Laughing and having fun." He sneered. "Being intimate."

"Who?"

"Was that all you gave him?" he went on, ignoring her question like it was worthless. Just like how he looked at her.

Fatiha shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about," she defended.

"You don't?" His eyes flashed furiously as he dug out his phone and showed her the screen after searching for something.

Fatiha's eyes grew twice its size as she registered what it was he was showing her. Her mind raced. How had he known? She looked up at him with shock, then looked back down at the picture of she and Munir in the suya joint in Abuja.

She shook her head. "It's not what it looks like." She tried explaining.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked snidely. "I have a witness who tells me they saw the both of you leave that joint together that night, and they've been seeing the both of you together frequently." He rose to his feet. "Do you still want to lie to me and tell me it's not what it looks like?"

"I swear, Faisal, it's not what it looks like. It was nothing. We only met by accident and he only followed me there because I didn't know Abuja very well. Nothing happened, I promise you."

Slowly, he bent at the waist and whispered meanly, "I don't believe you. Not one bit."

A sob broke out of her lips. "Faisal, please, you have to believe me. Nothing happened that night."

He gave her a pitying look. "Let me tell you something, Fatiha. No one will ever accept you," he hissed, gesticulating with his hands like he was revealing a world secret. "I was the only person who could accept you and now you've ruined that for yourself. Actually, I thought I would be able to manage, but as the days passed it seemed to me like you were getting bigger and I couldn't deal with that. Not anymore."

"What does that mean?" Fatiha asked in a whisper, her eyes and nose red from crying.

Faisal looked at her like she was the dirtiest thing he'd ever set eyes on. "It means I'll set you free. I'm calling off the engagement."

***
Asalamu alaykum guys! Hope you all enjoyed reading the chapter.

Don't forget to like, share and comment what you think about the chapter and our long lost Fiancé Faisal Hammad.

Stay safe
Ma salaam😘