Chapter Seven

"Resentment turning into abashment"

*~'*~'Eleven years ago*~'*~'*~'

Both Zayed and Rashid stepped out the car, and made their way to Hamad's house. They had another troublesome plan up their hands; they were going to Salalah, a beautiful city in UAE's neighbor country Oman, and come back without anyone knowing.

At fifteen, when none of them had driving license, going to another country seemed impossible but they didn't have that word in their dictionary.

Zayed and Rashid had both lied to their families, saying that they were going to stay at Hamad's place and Hamad had presented the same story to his mother. No one had a problem if Hamad wanted to stay at Zayed's place, because Mr. Ali, Hamad's father, was very fond of that kid.

But the families didn't know that the three boys had intended otherwise. Zayed the mastermind behind the plan had made all the arrangements and rented a car at his father's name, without Mr. Waleed knowing anything, of course. They had taken all the necessary items they would need and had filled their pockets with enough money for two days.

The car was ready, the boys were ready, their pockets were warm, the only thing they had to do was to pick up Hamad and take off.

Sadly, they didn't know that trouble was waiting for them at the front door because, a ten year old Mahra was standing there with her bicycle parked on her right side; her messy hair falling on her shoulders and her clothes were all stained with what looked like chocolate ice-cream.

Rashid saw her and gave an evil smirk, because it was time to have some fun. He turned around to Zayed that smile still on his face; "I'll be right back," He said and walked towards her while Zayed stood by the car, waiting for Hamad to come out.

"Marhaba Ya Dubbah, (Hello, fatty)" Rashid stopped in front of her with a swing in his steps. Mahra hadn't liked the two guys at all, especially the one who stood in front of her, who always pulled her hair and called her fat.

"Martak Dubbah, Ya Haywan, (Your wife is the fat one, you jackass)" She screamed out. Rashid laughed, he liked teasing her, she was easy to bug, he always thought. And as always he stretched his hand to pull her hair but Mahra started shouting before he even touched her. Zayed, flinched at the sharp shrill of her cry, she always irritated him.

Whereas Rashid enjoyed it, he enjoyed her shrieks that didn't stop him from doing what he had come to do. He still pulled her hair and snatched the ice cream that she had been eating, making Mahra cry and curse out loud, "You just wait, I am going to tell my dad about you," she said weeping. Rashid grinned and turned away from her to her bicycle, he started examining it.

"Next time don't insult my future wife," He said, glancing at her. She marched towards him and punched his hand, "Don't touch my cycle with your filthy hands." She yelled at the top of her lungs. Rashid was dumbstruck; he wasn't expecting her to fight back.

"Did you just hit me?" He said, playfully, but Mahra was too angry to notice his light mood. She just stared back at him, challengingly. Once again, he pulled her long hair, this time a little roughly.

"Let go of me!" She cried again and Rashid let go only because he had spotted Hamad. He walked towards him as Hamad shook his head.

"I hate you, Ya Hamar (You donkey)" Mahra screamed at his back, holding her head with her hand.

"Ya Akhee, don't mess with her, she'll take the entire house on her head with her crying." said Hamad to Rashid, who was still smiling.

"It's her, she started it." Rashid bluffed.

"Liar, Liar. Hamad 'Walla' (I swear) he started it and pulled my hair too."Mahra certified.

"But you punched me," Rashid defended, winking at Zayed who had spotted Hamad too and was walking forward to greet him.

Mahra didn't know what else to say so she went on with whatever that came to her mind; "I hate you. Don't ever come to our house again." She yelled, "I hate both of you, you're not my brother's friends..." she pointed at Zayed who had gotten closer but her words died when she saw him looking at her, he always scared her. He gave her a deadly glare and she literally shrunk back, shutting up.

**

**Back to the present**

'I remember her.' He thought, as his mother lovingly caressed his hair. Zayed lay there on the floor with his head placed on his mother's lap. She stroked his short hair and he loved the warmth of her hands.

A picture of a young girl with hair like a birds nest came to his mind. He couldn't believe that that was her, that was Hamad's sister. He remembered Mahra when she was younger, an extremely usual face, but she had grown up to be quite a lady. Unfortunately, the changes were only physical; her behavior was still the same. She was still the ill mannered, spoiled and loud girl. He hadn't seen her from a long time, but from what he remembered and what he had observed lately, she wasn't someone you could easily forget.

'How could I have missed it?' He blamed himself for not noticing it, even after he read her files, the other week. Mahra Ali, 'I should've known' a girl who had come so far without a degree and had been praised by both his father and Mr. Faisal, and that loudmouthed personality, it could only be her.

Zayed was embarrassed. Yes, embarrassed because of his friend. What had he done to his sister? What will Hamad think now?

The moment when Hamad told him that his sister worked with him, he had thought she might be some girl working in their office and he had to see who she is. But Mahra confirmed his doubts, before he could even make any actions. When Zayed heard her yell at Hamad like that, he had recognized the voice and that temper at once. From what he heard she appeared to have been wrathful, which wasn't surprising since it was Mahra we were talking about.

Subconsciously, he was smiling, a close mouthed smile which his mother seemed to notice. She was about to ask the reason for it when Jassim entered the room.

"Salaaam Alai..." he trailed off, narrowing his eyes at the sight in front of him. "Haa? Ya Umm Zayed, (Mother of Zayed) Ohhoooo what's going on here?" he asked, watching both his mother and brother with green eyes. "Looks like you've forgotten you have another son, mother, who also is in need of some care, and that comforting lap of yours." He played with the bill of his red cap and stepped forward to where they were sitting.

"Don't compare yourself with him Boy, and don't feel wary. Zayed has a different place in my heart, you all know that." Umm Zayed replied. Jassim put a hand on his heart like all of a sudden it had stopped beating and in an exaggerated tone he said;

"Oh mother my heart aches, my soul breaks. It's crucial of you to love my older brother so unconditionally. I feel left out." She rolled her eyes and laughed at her son's sudden change of manner. Zayed too looked up with a raised eyebrow and smiled at his younger, envious brother.

"Since when have you become a poet?" He asked, looking closely at Jassim's eyes which were almost out of sight under that cap.

"I know I never fought in war, I wasn't that good in school, and neither did I ever drive a fancy car." Zayed now raised both his eyebrows at that. A picture of Jassim's ostentatious Hummer h4 flashed in his brain and he gave his brother a look that said 'Really?'

Avoiding it Jassim continued; "But I live with simple rules, yearning for some kindness and solicitude." Jassim finished placing his hands in his pants pockets. Zayed looked away from him, and closed his eyes again, labeling Jassim as a total pain in the neck.

"I love Zayed but that doesn't mean that I do not love you." Umm Zayed spoke with love, "He's just been away from me for over four years, let me take in his warmth for I have missed it a lot." She said, still playing with his hair. Jassim took the sofa next to them.

"Mother your son has grown up, don't cuddle him so much. Tomorrow he will get married and look for this tenderness elsewhere." He joked. "Then don't come to me with a broken heart." Jassim noticed the excruciating look Zayed shot him as his mother didn't bother to reply. He stood up, pretending to look offended.

"I see that my presence is unwanted, I should go back to my lover." Jassim announced. Umm Zayed gasped, placing her hand on her heart.

"What did you just say? Your lover? Have you gotten married behind my back?" She stammered making Jassim burst into laughter. He came and sat beside her as she still glared at him.

"When I say 'My lover' I mean my car." He said, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry you'll always be my first love." He then turned to Zayed, who was about to get up.

"Agool, (Listen) Hamad, is waiting for you in the Maylis (A room outside the house, where the male guests are received)"

"And you're telling me this now? When did he come?" Zayed questioned turning back to his mother.

"About ten minutes ago. Seeing you taking over my kingdom made me forget him." Jassim passed him a smile as Zayed picked up his mother's hand and kissed it, then he leant forward and hit the front of jassim's cap with his hand making it fall off. Jassim grunted.

"I never left my kingdom to take it over now again." Zayed replied getting up and making his way to the Maylis.

**

As he walked to the Maylis, he couldn't help but think about Mahra. Zayed hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Hamad about her in Rashid's farm because of their friend's presence. For some odd reason he thought that Hamad's presence here today had something to do with her. 'Oh, yes for sure.' He thought remembering the way she had acted the other day on the phone.

He also was a little concerned about Hamad's reaction. What will he do if Hamad really does ask him to give Mahra the position? which he doubts Hamad would. But, who knows? Having a sister like Mahra, who could get quite persistent, he might as well talk to him about her. Zayed wondered what he would say if he brought it up.

Shoving that thought aside, and running a hand through his ruffled hair, Zayed entered the guest room which was just besides the main building. He saw Hamad sitting there alone, upon Zayed's arrival, Hamad got up to greet his friend.

"Ya Marhaba Hamad." Zayed was delighted to see his friend here; it reminded him of the old days when they'd visit each other's houses once or twice a day. They both shook hands and did 'Takhashum' "Touching noses together when greeting. It is in original a Bedouin gesture of friendship and respect. Mostly after a handshake.)

After the formalities, and asking about each other's conditions and families, they both settled down. "It's been years haven't seen you in this, Maylis." Zayed said to him.

"Ya Akhee, I would always come here to see your father, but you weren't here." Hamad replied, looking around. "Where is your father? I actually came to see him." Hamad replied. Zayed was a little surprised when he heard that. He thought Hamad had come for other purposes. He felt bad for thinking so little of him.

With that Jassim entered the room, with a big smile. "Shabaab (Guys) you'll have to excuse me. I gotta catch up with some friends." He said, turning. But Zayed called him before he left and asked him to call Mr. Waleed so that Hamad could see him.

"Okay, I will. Yalla Ma'asalamah. I'll see you later Hamad." And with that he took off.

"Jassim's better than us." Spoke Hamad. Zayed turning to him with a questioning look.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"He doesn't have any responsibilities up his sleeve. He's enjoying life the best way he can." He said. Zayed agreed with him, nodding. But he knew Hamad's situation was different than his.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy your youth." Zayed said, mischievously. "I was there with you every moment; you and Rashid weren't any less than Jassim and his friends." He finished, smiling.

"Me and Rashid?" Hamad crooked an eyebrow. "Looks like you've forgotten the days when you used to make everyone's life a hell."

As they laughed, Mr. Waleed entered the room, beaming. Both the men stood up for him in respect. Mr. Waleed gave Hamad yet another warm welcome. He sat beside him as if Hamad was his own son and inquired about his family, including Mahra.

"She's fine," Hamad replied with a smile and took a glance at Zayed with a playful grin. "But she complains a lot about your absence at work." Mr. Waleed smiled at that, clearly thinking about her.

"I don't blame her for that, for her boss has grown older. I have been keeping my distance from work because of my bad health." He informed. Hamad felt a twinge of pain when he heard that Mr. Waleed is not feeling well.

"Salaamtak, (Blessings be upon you) Uncle."

"Allah Yesalmak." (May God bless you)

After a moment's silence, Mr. Waleed began; "How's work?" He pointed the question at Hamad.

"Alhamdulillah 'Ami (uncle) everything's fine."

"Did you get the project you were aiming at?" Mr. Waleed asked.

"No, I still haven't. I am working on it. They said they'll give me the answer on Monday."

"I'll come to visit your office this week." Mr. Waleed said, getting up. He sighed, a deep worn out sigh, "I'll be leaving you two with your conversation. I have to go, meet someone." He uttered and said goodbye to the gentlemen.

Once the old man was gone, the gentlemen returned to face each other. And once again a picture of Mahra's face flashed through Zayed's mind.

"So what are the plans for today?" Hamad asked. Since it was Thursday which meant the weekend had arrived.

"Rest." Was Zayed's simple answer. He seemed to be thinking about something else and then he voiced his thoughts; "Hamad..." he paused, grabbing Hamad's full attention. "About your sister..." Before he could even finish Hamad raised his hand in the air, with a smile, he stopped Zayed.

"No, Listen." Zayed interrupted. "Ya Akhee I didn't know she was your sister. Don't think I did it on purpose." Deep down inside Zayed had a feeling that even if he knew she was Hamad's sister he would've done the same. Rules are Rules.

Surprisingly, Hamad chuckled. "Even if you did do it on purpose, I don't really care." Zayed hadn't seen this one coming. He was sure Hamad would defend his sister. "Do whatever you want to do with her, man." He said, coolly.

Zayed looked down at the carpet in the room and then said; "I seriously had no idea she was your sister and I am sure you are aware of the reason behind my actions." Hamad nodded.

"Yes, she said you'd told her something about not being qualified enough." Hamad stated. Zayed thought whether if she had told him everything that happened in that meeting. He didn't like being in difficult situations such as these with Hamad.

"Forget it man, it's just a promotion. And you don't have to feel responsible. She is your employee first, then your friend's sister. Besides, I know what man of rules and regulations you are, we wouldn't want to break any of them for her." Hamad teased, winking. He noticed Zayed relax in his posture. He recalled the reaction Mahra had had; Even though it hurt him to see his younger sister cry but he knew it was on something stupid. He also remembered the way Mahra had been swearing Zayed that past week and couldn't help but smile.

"What?" Zayed asked for the reason of that smile. Hamad simply shook his head and whispered; "Nothing."

*❤*Mahra❤*

What a pathetic life I have? Two weeks, just two weeks and I feel like it's not my life I am living anymore. I sat on the wooden bench, in the room made of glass. Painting my feelings on a chart and there was a lot of red in it, which was sign of my anger. I kept going on for hours, some people would say that's the sickest way to spend your weekends but that brought me back to life. It made calmness surge trough me.

When I was half way through with the painting, I realized I had grown tired. So I collected my stuff and saw the watch that Hamad had gifted me the other day—on the table. I had taken it off afraid that it might get stained. Hamad gave it to me with so much love when I had joked about not being rich enough to buy myself what I wanted. I could easily do that and more if I asked him for money, but ever since my father passed away I haven't asked anyone for money.

Taking all my stuff and wearing the watch, I made my way from the glass painting room to the main entrance. I found mother sitting in the living room watching an Islamic program. We both were alone at home. Since it was the weekend so Hamad had gone to see some friends and Maha, my older sister couldn't come from Abu Dhabi.

My mother asked me to cut some fruits for her, so I went to the kitchen and did just that. When I came back I was unaware that she had another lecture in store for me. I joined her in eating the fruits when she asked and then she began, "Did you call your cousin Sara?" She inquired.

"No, why should I call her?" I asked, confused. My cousin Sara had just gotten engaged and her marriage date wasn't decided yet.

"To congratulate her of course." She shot me a deadly glare. I acted as if I hadn't seen it.

"Mom, a week has passed. I can't call her now. It'll be weird."

"No, you have to call her. Her mother called this morning, complaining that they never get to see you or hear from you in months." I sighed now why on earth would someone want to see me?

"Okay, In sha Allah I'll call her." I gave up. There was no way I was going to win this game anyway. A moments silence and then she uttered in a really sad tone; "Everyone's daughters are getting married except from mine." I rolled my eyes at that. I seriously didn't need that crap now.

"Mom, please don't start now." I begged.

"No, I will. What are you planning on doing with your life? You rejected a great deal of guys already." She stated, looking at me disappointedly. "Your cousin Fahad asked for your hand but you refused him too." Fahad was my cousin, who's sister Sara is now getting married.

"Why are you mourning over him? He's gotten engaged to someone else now." I said, raising my voice a little, but my mom replied in a softer tone, kind of like she was about to cry.

"That's what I am afraid of, all the guys will come, you'll keep rejecting and we'll lose them." My family's biggest problem this past year was that there aren't any good guys who come to ask for my hand. They fear that I might spend the rest of my life alone.

I got up from my place and went over to hug her. Though being my step mother, she cared like a birth mother. I also didn't blame her for being so tensed. She and Hamad are all I have, since I don't have a father. They both want to see me settled and happy with a typical nice husband, but that's not what I want to do.

"Don't worry about me." I mumbled, hugging her tightly. "I'll take care of myself."

**

Following my mom's advice I called Sara and apologized for being such a bad cousin. She was a great girl and didn't chastise me, in fact she understood everything. So, I made a decision to spend this weekend with her and a couple of other cousins. We went shopping for her wedding which was due next month. I went to my uncle's house for a family dinner too. It was a lot more fun than I had thought I'd be.

Until, I saw Fahad there, you know Sara's older brother. It had actually been quite an embarrassing scene we had there. You see, Fahad has a young brother Saleh, who I love and adore most heartedly. He is around five or six. He runs to me whenever he sees me and that's what he did today. I picked him up and kissed him on both cheeks and unfortunately Fahad happened to be there.

"Why don't you get married and have a kid just like him?" Asked my dearest cousin Sara, making all of my other cousin, Fahad, laugh. Okay, so she wasn't as great as I'd mentioned earlier. I glanced at Fahad who looked at me holding his brother. Ever since we were young he sort of had a thing for me, but I turned him down. He clearly hated me for that. Purposefully, I gave him one of my best smiles, which had its affects; I could see that on his face. Then I turned away from him and looked at Saleh again.

"No, I'll wait for Saleh to grow up and then I'll marry him." I seriously didn't know what I was thinking back then. I ruffled Saleh's hair and kissed him again on his forehead, aware that everyone in the room was watching me and also aware of Fahad who was walking towards me. When he got close enough, I looked up at him and stared directly in his eyes.

"Saleh's older brother was in front of you your whole life and you didn't marry him. Who knows you might bail on him too." His words did leave an effect but I acted as if they hadn't.

**

After two days, I was at work and extremely irritated. It was Noora that had dared enough to get on my nerves and lucky for her she succeeded. The entire day she had been ordering me around and acting as if we weren't friends, as if we hadn't known each other from such a long time. She was being overly bossy, which I couldn't handle.

Irritated, I went to talk to Fatima about that and then she told me something that shocked me even further. We were in her cabin when she folded her hands giving me a weird look.

"Don't tell me you don't know why she is doing all of this." She said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes.

"No, I swear. I have no idea what's gotten into her. It's like we've seen each other for the first time." I told her. She shook her head, annoyed and looked at me unbelievably.

"So you don't know she's doing all of this because of Khalifah." My tongue locked up. "Because she's jealous of you." This time I shook my head and tried to focus on the point she was making. I knew she liked Khalifah but why would she be jealous.

"She feels insecure because of you and rumor has it that Khalifah is gonna propose to you." I looked at her, dubiously. My jaw hit the ground.

"What?" I blinked my eyes. "That's ridiculous. Have you all lost your minds?" I mean hey, it's me they're talking about. Me & Khalifah. "Why is it I am hearing this for the first time?" I asked her. She simply raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you are hearing it for the first time?" She exclaimed. Before I could even answer, Mr. Faisal called her and she got out. Leaving me there completely astonished. How could Khaifah even think like that, I mean has he even seen his face? Okay, may be there's nothing wrong with it but he is the last person I'd marry.

Only one person, I realized, would be happy by this news. My mother. But if I told her that Khalifah isn't the right man; I am sure her reaction would be to roll her eyes and say; "Your Mr. Perfect will never come around."

Now, when the 'delightful' day was over I rushed out of the building to my car, which I had collected from the garage last week. Once I sat inside, I sighed deeply, wondering what was it that would help me calm down. 'Nothing' was the answer. I'll just have to live with it.

I reversed my car into the aisle, and 'BANG' I heard a huge thud as my car crashed into another one behind me. I jerked in my seat yet again just as I had a couple of weeks ago. Ignoring the rapid breathing and the adrenaline that was pumping in my veins, I rushed out of my car, checking to see there was a huge dent in the back and the sidelight was broken as well. My anger flared inside of me as I turned to see the culprit behind this. My eyes narrowed when they fell on a Asian driver who was staring at me wide-eyed, from inside his car. He seemed to be one of the labors around here.

"This could not get any worse." I shouted and strode to the old civic he drove. It was his fault. He had been the one to shove his car in mine. I banged my hand on his cars bonnet, noticing him snap in his seat.

Taking a few more steps, I walked to his window and knocked thrice, with so much anger, that it hurt my knuckles. I saw him stare at me knowing that he had welcomed his death. I crooked my finger at him and beckoned him to come out, challengingly.

Reluctantly, he did, as I watched his every move with fury. He clearly was scared or maybe I was just too intimidating. Seeing him like that, the softer part of me said to just forgive him, but unfortunately for him, he'd come in my way at a wrong day.

"Madam. I am sorry." He apologized. I huffed loudly.

"Sorry?? Are you blind or what?" I said raising my index finger at him to answer me. "Huh? Couldn't you see such a big car in front of you?" I shot him a glare.

"I am really sorry ma'am. I was on the phone." He spluttered. This ticked me more off. I raised an eye brow and muttered an 'Oh'

"Talking on the phone? Do you even know the traffic rules?" I knew I was being a hypocrite because I did that sometimes too. "I would like to know who gave you license." The look on the poor man's face defined that he regretted telling me about the phone thing. I looked back at my car and it stung me to see her like that, again in two weeks.

"Now who will fix that? You?" I turned to look at him. He was examining my car too or probably thinking how much it'll cost him. "I doubt that? You..." I was going to swear when I heard a beep of a car unlocking and turned to see a BLACK Nissan VTC that was parked right opposite to where I stood. Its parking lights just flashed.

I shifted my head a little to the left and that was the moment when I wished the Earth would split up and swallow me. I saw Mr. Zayed, dressed in black, he walked towards his car, but his eyes were on us or to be more precise, his eyes were on me.

His eyes did a sweep of the scene in front of him as I colored scarlet red. Why whenever something embarrassing happens to me, he has to be there? I wonder if he heard me screaming at the man.

I watched as he walked to his car, his eyes still on us. He turned around and walked to the driver's seat. And then he drove away making me wish I was never born.

~'*ღ˚ •。* ♥~'*~ღ˚ •。* ♥'*~'ღ˚ •。* ♥*~'*ღ˚ •。* ♥~'*~'*ღ˚ •。* ♥

Hey ppl. Hope you liked this chapter. We know it's loooooong, but these things had to be expalined. They are the base of the story and also our day to day life:) Thanx a lot for all ur support and appreciation. We love u all and wish that u like our work.

Do check out the Pic and the Vid, it totally defines the situation in our story.

PS: Sry 4 being late.

~Lot's of Love from the writers

~Witty & Witch