Chapter Thirty two

"A Walk to Remember"

قلوُبنا بسيطه جداً, بدليل أنهّا وقت الفرحة تنسى الماضّي

Mahra

Thursday- 3:30 PM

This past week had went by pleasantly, away from Zayed and his complicated world. After my breakdown, last Saturday, I expressed my longing for my mother, and my intentions to see her. The very next day, Zayed took me to her and allowed me to spend the rest of the week there. In addition to my mother, I got to see my sister Reem, who looked very pregnant, and had come here along with her daughter and son for the winter break. Fortunately, after many lectures from mom and Reem on the subject, I was finally able to work my issues with Hamad and Mona. I had accepted their pairing but had still not forgiven Hamad yet.

On Tuesday, Hamad, accompanied by my uncles, had gone to officially ask for Mona's hand. I heard that Uncle Waleed had been exceedingly happy, but hadn't given Hamad an answer just yet, saying that they were going to consult it with Mona first. Off course I knew what Mona's answer would be!

Forget about them. I said to myself. Why was I even bothering to think about them!? It's their life and they're free to do whatever they want to do with it. Besides I should be happy for them. I remembered Reem's words.

Trying to forget my troublesome life, I began focusing on the game that I was playing around with my niece Asma and my young cousin Saleh. We were playing dodge ball out in the garden, all three of us running in different directions, laughing as we did so. The beach ball was with me and I was thinking of who to attack next, that was when we heard the doorbell ring and I saw Delisia sprinting from the kitchen to open it.

Unconsciously I had thrown the ball a little harder which hit Asma on her face and she began crying. My heart fell in my stomach, and slightly scared of her mother, I ran to hug her but she wouldn't stop weeping. I checked for any injures and her face looked fine.

"I am so sorry Hayati." I apologized, hugging her tightly, and she cried harder. Talk about being melodramatic. She was my niece after all. "Sorry, I didn't see you." I repeated and picked her up in my arms, hoping she would stop soon, saving me another of her mom's lectures of irresponsibility! "Let me see." I told her, examining her face again.

She pointed her index finger to her small nose. "My nose hurts." She innocently said, and I kissed it.

"It'll be fine." I assured her, as I heard footsteps behind me, knowing that that was Hamad. "See uncle Hamad is here and he'll make the pain go away now." I said, and turned around to hand her over to Hamad, who knew better how to deal with her.

It was when I turned that I went completely rigid, as my eyes fell into a pair of hazel brown ones, deeper than a never lasting land. There standing before me was my troubled fate, my handsome pain and my proud man, staring at me not as dryly as he normally would. When I twirled, I hadn't just turned to face him, I had turned my back on my temporary happiness as well, because with Zayed came pain, came heartache and so much more. The spot that stung at the bottom of my heart, began prickling once more, after days of me trying to hush it.

Getting cold and pale, I realized I wasn't ready to see him, not in the slightest. I bit my lip, remembering what I was wearing, a casual skinny jeans, a loose black T-shirt and my hair was all over the place. No, I shouldn't care about how I looked in front of him. In reality, I wasn't in anyway ready to see him and wasn't expecting him to come pick me up today.

"As Salaam Alaikum." He greeted, his eyes taking me in. His careful eyes analyzed everything.

"Ahlain." I managed to reply and noticed Asma going completely silent now. She stared at my husband, with her big teary eyes. Delisia grinned at me and went inside as well.

"Hayak Allah, Tafadhal. (May God greet you, c'mmon in)" I finally invited him and then realized I was being too formal and nice, which seemed unnecessary. "I wasn't expecting you." I certified, removing the formalities.

"I can see that." He stated, with a light smile. He shouldn't smile, not at me and not like that.

As we walked together to the men's meylis, he got closer. I noticed Asma snaking her hand around my neck and hugging me tightly, clearly intimidated by my husband's charm! Breaking through my own thoughts, I turned to my little cousin. "Saleh Habibi, go tell my mother that Zayed's here." And Saleh ran inside, without uttering a word.

As we got in the meylis, I placed Asma down and turned to Zayed who had taken a seat. "Hamad is not here." I declared, slowly gathering my hair to one side, taming them down.

"I know." He replied. "I came to take you."

"Me?" I raised both eye brows and tried to sound surprised. "But I am still not ready, my bags are still unpacked." I made known, displeased, hoping he'll change his mind but he didn't.

"I can wait, but hurry up. I am coming straight from work and am a bit tired." He suggested, and I suppressed a sigh of defeat.

Stretching my hand for my niece. "Yalla Asoom (C'mon Asoom)" I said to her, but she ignored me, not intending to come along. "Stay here then, with uncle Zayed. I will be back soon." I suggested, and as I reached the door, I heard him summon her.

Quickly heading to my room, and on my way up the stairs, I heard mom and Reem arguing on what to serve him, tea or coffee. Leaving them there, I went to my room, to change into a decent Jalabia once again and straightened my slightly curly hair. I packed my stuff as quickly as I could, and was descending the stairs, when I found Reem standing there waiting for me. She wore a large sheilah, trying to hide her baby bump but failed.

"What were you doing in there? The man is running late." She scolded, frowning at me. I placed my bag on the floor and looked at her, annoyance radiating from my face.

"Who told him to come pick me up today? I didn't. His majesty seems to have a lot of free time." I put forward and her frown deepened.

"Mahra," She hissed. "Is that how a woman speaks about her husband?" She began lecturing me once again. Rolling my eyes at her, I made towards the meylis and apparently she had followed me.

Once at the door, we heard mother's voice speaking to her son-in-law. I let Reem precede me and she greeted him, warmly. As I stepped in after her, I saw Zayed standing in respect for my sister and something in my heart shook. He asked about her health and her wellbeing, then he inquired about her husband, children and her in-laws, not forgetting anyone. The way he stood, so tall and so confident, respect oozing from his manner, I couldn't help but admire that. Even Reem was a little intimidated, she smiled at him, her color slightly pink.

All was well, until Asma came hugging her mother's legs. "Khaloo Mahra hit me with the ball." She whined.

Reem eyed me, and to hide my embarrassment I rolled my eyes with a smile. "You've cosseted her too much." I complained, turning to look at my mother to defend me, but she gave me a dangerous look. A look that made the smile on my face, fade. It was a not-so-pleasant, reminder that my husband was still in the room.

"Yalla Mahra." Zayed began, glancing at me, ready to leave. I wanted to refuse, to deny going to that hell hole again but for the sake of my mother's eyes, smiling at the both of us, I stayed silent. What would happen to her when she knows that Zayed's visit to this house would be over in a few months? He won't come to pick me up, once his father's well!

**

12:54 AM

And here I was, in his world again, lying on this uncomfortable couch, staring at the ceiling, sleepless. Fortunately, this time he'd been nice enough to turn the AC off, but still sleeping on a sofa where you could barely stretch your legs was torturous enough. I turned sideways to look at him, and he seemed utterly comfortable, yet again sleeping on his stomach, sticking his feet slightly out of his blanket.

Since it was the weekend, therefore he'd brought me here, to his family once again. It was hard to deal with him, or his 'lovely' sister Mona, so I tried to avoid their company as much as I could. Spending most of my time with uncle Waleed and Umm Zayed. They had held a lunch gathering for their entire family in their farmhouse tomorrow and my mother-in-law had asked me to have a good night's sleep.

As long as her son was in my life, there were no good nights!

With that thought, I turned my back to him and curled into a ball. After reading some verses, I had dived into a deep slumber.

The next morning, things were going according to my plans. I had gotten up before him, offered my prayers and was ready to go downstairs, in a super simple red Jalabia. Before closing the door behind me, I thought of waking him up for Salah, but then something stopped me, perhaps the strange relationship we both shared.

Once down the stairs, I encountered Umm Zayed at the kitchen door. She looked at me and passed me a motherly smile.

"Sabbahch Allah bilkhair 'Ammati, (Good morning mother-in-law)." I returned her smile.

"Sabbahch Allah binnoor wassoroor Yabanyati. (Good morning to you too, my daughter)." She said, warmly. "Come have breakfast first and then you and Mona can both help me pack." She completed, and for some reason, I didn't like what I heard, why Mona? Placing a stone at my heart, I followed her into the kitchen anyway. There I saw Mona, making herself a sandwich, glancing up at me at my approach.

"Ahlain Mahra." She greeted first, because I hadn't. This wasn't the first time she'd tried to talk to me since yesterday. May be Hamad had talked some sense into her! Or May be she realized what she did was wrong! Which seemed unlikely, the amount of pride she and her brother have, they can never come to such a conclusion. Perhaps by talking to me, she thinks she can have the upper hand, she can be above me, better than me, that old Zen wisdom!

Any which ways, I gave her a cold reply anyway, just for the sake of the old lady in the room, otherwise I would've never bothered.

By and by, as we finished our breakfast, we were conversing more and more constantly. Both of us, ordering the maids here and there. "Mona, where can I find the basket for the fruits?" I would ask. "Should I have these carton boxes sent to the cars?" I'd inquire, having very little information about how things went in their house and Mona would guide me as nicely as one could. "Mahra can you decorate these deserts for me, I have to check on my cake?" She would request. Mona was brilliant at making sweets, I had to give her that. She had done more than five kinds of deserts in these short hours only.

After sometime, we both had somewhat forgotten our differences, or better yet had chosen to forget our differences, because both of us were similarly mistaken, last week. And in a situation like ours, we couldn't afford to prolong our dispute.

When it was nearly 7:30, Umm Zayed asked me to light a charcoal disc and put some bukhoor on it, so she could take it upstairs to her kids and husband. I did as told, and was handing it to her in the living room, when we heard Zayed's voice wishing us a good morning. He came over, all dressed, to kiss his mother's forehead, and glanced at me too, something was definitely different in his eyes.

Intending to leave the mother and son alone, I was going to put the mabkharah on the table nearby and flee when Umm Zayed stopped me. "Mahra binti, perfume your husband first until I go and check on the maids." She finished. I paused and turned around, unwillingly.

"Insha Allah." I agreed and moved rather slowly towards the incense burner, waiting for her to leave so that I could hand it to my husband and escape once again. But that was wishful thinking, since I was dealing with the laziest, most bossy and indulged person of all my acquaintances. When I stretched my arm, to hand him the mabkharah, he, unbelievingly, grabbed the edges of his ghatra forward, so that the smoke could pass through them, perfuming them.

Standing opposite him, I noticed that he towered over me, and I reached his shoulders. We stood there, both engulfed with the same scent. I tried not to look at him, and pointed my gaze at my hands and my hands only. A while later, he threw both the sides of his ghatra behind his shoulder, and I looked up to glance at him. His head held high, eyes fixed at the wall behind us, smoke passing through his face and clothes.

"Why didn't you wake me up for prayer?" He questioned, his eyes were lighter than I had seen them in a while, seemed like he had enjoyed the time away from me, just like I had.

"You didn't ask me to." I pointed out, my voice was flat, because that was how I felt. I was emotionless at the moment.

I could sense him looking at me as he searched for a reply.

"Well, I am asking you now. Next time wake me up and don't let me sleep until I miss my prayer." He asserted, yet his tone wasn't ordering, more like requesting.

I paused briefly, surprised at his behavior today. Did he just ask me to carry out a daily task for him?

"Alright?" He urged, fixing his gaze at me, but I wouldn't meet his eyes.

I nodded. "Fine, I'll gain myself some Ajr through your good deeds." I mused and perhaps I had caught a glimpse of a smile that he had stolen from somewhere.

Before his smile could fade or my heart would return to its normal pace, we heard the entrance door open and in came Jassim with lazy steps. "Oh, Masha Allah, the newly-weds are here." He notified, eyes mischievous as ever.

I, instantly, pulled the incense burner towards me and took a step away from my husband. Perhaps Jassim had noticed that because he was smiling wickedly.

"Ahlain Sheikh Jassim, finally thought to grace us with your presence." Zayed ridiculed, turning Jassim's attention towards himself. "Where are you coming from?" The older brother inquired, voice slightly drier than how it had been minutes ago.

"We spent the night over at Khalid's farmhouse." Jassim replied, sensing the sudden change of Zayed's expressions. He was all severe again.

"Why was your phone switched off?" My husband moved to sit down on the nearest sofa.

"It was?" Jassim reached to his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Dead battery." He pointed out, and slouched back on a couch nearby as well.

The maid came with a glass of fresh orange juice and served it to Zayed. "Do you think it is healthy for a respectful man to return home at eight o'clock in the morning?" Zayed interrogated, glancing at his watch. I had a feeling that I was oddly placed between the both of them. This should be a personal inquiry.

"Ya Akhi, you're ruining my image in front of your wife." Jassim joked, and my lips broke into a smile. Both the brothers had turned to look at me.

I felt the need to change the subject. "What do you want for breakfast?" I addressed my husband, not that I wanted to bring him breakfast but I knew if I went to the kitchen, my mother-in-law would send me back to ask him about what he wants.

"Nothing, thank you. I am heading out for a meeting." Zayed made known. I averted my gaze from him to Jassim, who stared at me with a mischievous look on his face. I smiled yet again. There was something very playful about his eyes.

"Can I get you something?" I offered him.

"A glass of fresh orange juice, if you may!" He requested and that was how I excused myself from there.

**

9:03 AM

Finally ready, I took a glance at my reflection in the mirror, wearing a light blue emirati mukhawar that was comfortable for today's family outing, much better than the long maxi dress I had chosen earlier. I had pulled my hair up and applied light make up, with winged eye-liner and nude lipstick. Putting on my colored abaya, and content with how I looked, I, at last left Zayed's room and came downstairs where the maids were moving the packed necessities to the cars, and Jassim was screaming about the keys of his quad bikes that he would drive in the farmhouse.

I went into the kitchen to see the last touch ups and there I found Laylah, tightening the lid of the thermos placed in front of her. "Where is everyone?" I asked, capturing her attention.

She looked up at me. "You're still here? Everyone's outside. Let's go." She hurried me towards the front porch. I opened the door and got out into the front yard, where a serene wind blew me away. It was a beautiful day. I looked around and saw uncle Waleed, his brother and Deemah standing next to a car, laughing at something Badr had said. Mona and the twins were deep in conversation with Jassim in front of his car as well.

"Is Zayed not back?" I questioned, turning around to look at Laylah.

And as if he had heard me, I saw the garage door roll up and there he was again. Driving his way, single handedly, through the drive way and parking his car beside Badr's. He got out of his car, said a few words to his father and Badr then headed towards us.

"Where were you?" asked Laylah, frowning at him.

"I had a meeting." He said, moving towards us.

"It's Friday." complained Laylah.

"Where's mother?" Zayed ignored her comment and answered with a question of his own, ascending the few steps at the entrance.

"She's inside." I replied because Laylah hadn't. She got busy answering Deemah's questions.

He turned to look at me as if he'd just noted my presence there, or that was what he wanted me to think. His eyes lingered at my face. "Get in the car with the others. I'll be right back." He told me, and with that he got inside.

Seconds after his departure, Umm Zayed emerged from the same door behind which Zayed had disappeared. "Ha Mahra Binti, are you all set?" She asked, tightening her sheilah around her head.

"Yes 'Ammati." I replied, smiling at her.

She lovingly placed her hand on my upper back and addressed her husband. "Yalla Ya Bu Zayed, mishena?" She asked him the same question, she'd asked me.

Everyone turned to look at her. "Yes, let us leave." Uncle Waleed announced and then faced me. "Ha binti Mahra, should we leave now and you will come with Zayed?" He inquired, surprising me. Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, I nodded, "Of course 'Ammi, whatever suits you best." were my words, hoping my voice was loud enough for them to hear.

He bid me farewell, and sat in the passenger's seat of Badr's car, who was to drive. They were accompanied by their wives and luckily Mona joined them as well. Jassim had planned to take his car and come along with the twins. I kept staring at it, because I had a memory with that black Nissan VTC. It was the car in which his brother had once seen me arguing with a man who'd hit my car. I remembered how I went ballistic back then. As the embarrassment from that day came back, I found myself staring at the ground, regretting my silliness and also longing for the independency I once had. I missed sitting on the driver's seat which now seemed impossible, everything now seemed impossible.

My thoughts were interrupted, when I heard Jassim trying to convince Zayed about driving his own car to the farmhouse but his brother opposed the idea. After a few unsuccessful trials, he gave up just like everybody does with Zayed!

**

We were in his car, headed to the farmhouse that everyone so famously talked about. I sat behind my husband this time, allowing Jassim to have the front seat. Laylah and her twins were joining me on the back seat as well. A hush descended over everyone, which was odd seeing that Jassim was with us. The sound of Khawlah's game on her ipad was the only thing I could hear, as she played, her head rested on my shoulder.

"Khawlah could you turn that off?" Came her elder uncle's voice.

The young girl obeyed Zayed's orders, huffing as she did. "Then put on some music. It's so boring." She complained and all of a sudden her twin sister, Kholoud sat straight. "Can we listen to some Taylor Swift?" She asked, excited. I tried to hold back a smile, as I looked at their cheerful faces.

"I don't think your uncle knows who that is." Laylah joined in, passing me a smile.

"Then can we listen to someone that he knows?" Khawlah insisted, her tone hopeful.

"I don't think you'll like the people he listens to." I added, and at that Jassim turned to look at me, grinning as he did.

"You seem to have tasted the agony?" He joked.

"You have no idea." I replied, smiling as well. Upon turning, my gaze met Zayed's in the rear-view mirror. The look in his eyes was strangely unexplainable. Perhaps he will never forgive me for insulting his 'classic' music!

"I have a solution." Began Jassim, unlocking his phone. "Since we are going to the barr, (desert)" He paused connecting his Bluetooth with the car. "I hope you all like Mehad Hamad." He added, and Laylah complimented him for his great choice.

The rest of our journey was nice and quiet as we listened to the legendary Emirati singer's old songs. After a while of being at ease, I felt that I was unnaturally content with these people today. My laughter wasn't forced, neither was I faking a smile, it was all real. Seeing everyone so pleased around me, I told myself that I have all the rights to smile and laugh as well. May be I don't have a reason to be happy but what if things remained this way all my life, will I never laugh or live or love?

I think I have reached a point in my life where I feel the need to move on and live without complaining. God knows, perhaps a positive energy might bring back some happiness. If so, then I will not mourn and I will not cry. I have done too much of that already. I will be patient, just like mother had said, patient until the sky smiles at me once again.

**

10:47 AM

As we reached the farmhouse, I didn't get to go around and explore the place since we got busy preparing drinks, tea and organizing breakfast for the men and women separately. Soon the rest of Zayed's family was arriving one by one. It was nice to see his grandmother, she made me sit next to her yet again and asked how her grandson had been with me. We were talking when a somewhat upset Laylah barged into the room, annoyed.

"I made him the nicest tea possible and he still sends it back, claiming that it's awful." She announced, exhaling loudly as she sat down next to her mother.

"Who?" asked the older ladies in unison.

"Mother's indulged son, Zayed." She shook her head. Seems like I am not the only one failing here.

"Yes," began the grandmother. "That is an old habit of his. He has always preferred his mother's hand made Chahi above all." proclaimed she.

"Haih fdaitah." came Umm Zayed's voice, smiling at her son's nature. "He's gotten used to it."

"You must be suffering with him too, Mahra." Laylah directed her words at me, taking me off guard. "Has he been 'nice' enough to reject your tea as well?" She inquired, hoping I'd say yes, so that we both would be sailing the same boat.

Remembering the one cup of tea that I made him first time, I looked down at the ground and smiled, having a wicked thought of complaining about him to someone for the first time. "Yes, he has." I announced. "I remember him using the term 'awful'." I completed and they grinned at that. Clearly they hadn't taken my complaint seriously, because they were laughing.

"Come with me then, I will show you how it is done." suggested my mother-in-law, standing up. I looked at her, surprised. It was just tea, who doesn't know how to make tea! I thought, not in any means interested in his likes or dislikes, but I rose to my feet and followed her anyway.

There I watched her boiling some water and adding the right amounts of sugar, tea and milk, describing to me that he likes his tea strong and thick. We were almost done, when I heard a familiar voice nearby. "What's our daughter doing here, Khadijah?" Uncle Waleed asked, standing at a good distance from the kitchen door. He was accompanied by his elder son, Zayed and both of them were staring at me while uncle Waleed's question had been directed to his wife.

"She wants to know how Zayed likes his Chahi, so I am showing her." Umm Zayed explained the matter slightly different than how it had actually been, embarrassing me thoroughly. Older women!

I looked from her to her son and found him fixing me in a curious gaze. I think he was smart enough to guess the reality. He knew that I would be the last person on Earth to do that!

"Well then, can we take her away with us for a while?" offered uncle Waleed, astonishing me yet again.

"Yes, the tea is already done." Umm Zayed stated, and turned to look at me. "Go ahead binti." She said, lovingly but I couldn't move, as if pinned at the spot.

"Yalla Mahra." Uncle Waleed summoned with a gesture of his hand and I had to literally drag my legs to move towards them. It wasn't that I didn't want to go for a walk with my father-in-law, it was his son. The relationship that we both shared was brilliant and I didn't want my husband to see that.

I quickly slipped on my sandals and walked to where they were standing. As I got closer to him, he placed a fatherly hand on my head, just like he always does. Such tiny gestures of care from him, gave me hope.

"I have brought you here to have a good time not sit around listening to the women gossip." Uncle Waleed spoke in his familiar light tone, looking down at me as he did.

"I was having a good time 'Ammi." I replied, staring at the path ahead of us as we'd started walking.

"In there?" He turned to look at the one story building I'd just left. "I doubt that. I have known you for too long." He pointed out, making me grin. As my smile settled back. "Did you see the farmhouse?" He questioned, and I raised my head to meet his gaze.

I shook my head. "Not yet, 'Ammi."

"Now you will." He proposed and together we walked. I on his left and a silent Zayed to his right. I should've complained about his silence to his grandmother. Perhaps she might have a solution for that.

And as if he had heard me, this was happening twice today - him reading my mind - he spoke addressing his father. "Uboya, I was thinking we should cut the tree near the swimming pool." Zayed grabbed hold of his father's hand as we descended the sand dune. "It's gotten too old." He completed.

"The weeping fig?"

"Yes."

"But it shadows the pool in summer."

"It's been spreading and cracking the walls that border the pool area."

I lost my interest in their conversation as my eyes fell on what lay ahead of us, a wide and long pathway with palm trees on each side that led to a pond. We walked slowly, I examining the place and my companions discussing several different topics where I had very little or perhaps nothing to say. At long length, as we reached the round pond, that looked almost natural but wasn't. I noticed the fish and ducks that swam in the still water. Ahead were more trees, as far as the eye could see. Instead of completing straight we took another way to our right, brighter than the one we'd just come through, since the plants surrounding this road were vegetables according to what uncle Waleed explained.

"Do you see the paddock, Mahra?" Uncle Waleed pointed towards some fences, on another sand dune to our far left. "That's where the horses are." He made known. I nodded, squinting my eyes to find some horses but could see none.

"It's too far father." Zayed began as his father made his way to it. "You will get tired."

We watched as uncle Waleed paused and turned to face us, placing his right hand on his waist. "Right you are, son. We have to go to the Friday prayer as well." He pointed out, as if he'd just remembered the matter.

"Yes, 'Ammi we should return." I spoke, looking sideways at Zayed as he reached to his pocket and took out his cell phone.

"No, I will call Jassim to take us back in the car." Zayed disagreed and did just that.

Within a few minutes Jassim came driving his brother's car. I could hear the sound of Jassim's mockery as his father got in the front seat. He said something about his father still having a young heart. I was smiling when my father-in-law turned to both me and my husband.

"Show her the rest of the farmhouse, Zayed." He ordered, and shut the door. Perhaps my husband was taken off guard because I couldn't hear him disagree.

"Insha Allah." He confirmed on the contrary, dazing me with his good manners.

We stood there, speechless, as they drove away. I stared at the ground, not liking the option I was given. The idea of walking with him was uncomfortable enough, but going to a walk with him and him only was even more awkward. We shouldn't push it too much. "Let us return." I recommended, stealing a glance at him.

His eyes were on the departing car, but then they averted towards me. "Why?" he raised an eyebrow.

I thought about what to say. "Isn't everybody that way?" I put forward, gesturing to where we'd come from.

"Yeah, but don't you want to see the horses?" He inquired, sounding puzzled.

I shook my head. "No, it's not that." I began, biting my lower lip. How do I explain this? "Ummm." I thought about it and then gave up soon because I wasn't good at thinking. Standing upright with both my arms hanging straight down on my sides, I blurted the truth without much consideration. "Don't be so nice. I am... not used to you being so nice to me." I exclaimed and witnessed curiosity taking over his forever-calm eyes.

When he spoke again, his tone was lighter, as if he was hiding something, probably a smile. "Would you like me to 'not' be nice with you?" He mocked, stressing at the 'not' word.

"If all of this is tiring you, then you can go back to your usual behavior." I articulated, straight forward.

"My usual behavior?" He questioned, eyes still glowing under the morning sun.

"Your usual, I must add, arrogant and proud behavior." I disclosed, releasing the cockiness that had been jumping within my insides.

"Ahh that." He nodded and turned his back to me. "Well, you can tell me more about that on our way to the paddock." He spoke, walking ahead of me.

"Are you sure you want to hear about my opinion of you?" I asked, raising my voice a little, but it wasn't threatening.

"Seems like a dangerous thing to do, doesn't it?" He replied, carelessly.

"It is." was my hushed answer, and then I grew silent.

I began walking, my eyes fixed at the pavement, following his silhouette. Yet again, I trailed his white gleaming kandorah, getting used to his grace and his big footsteps that were hard to keep up with.

My opinion of him? What was my opinion of him? I spent most of my days cursing and loathing him for what he'd done to me. Sometimes I'd sit and mourn for his life and mine, sympathize him. And then there were some idiotic moments when I would watch and admire him.

"Come along." His voice came, getting me out of my trail of thoughts. I looked up and saw him pausing to face me.

"You're too fast. I can't keep up with your pace." I complained, and he turned away once again, but slowed his pace so that I could walk beside him, well, almost beside him. We took another turn left, into a wide archway that opened to a tree tunnel, taking us further left.

"Is this a maze?" I vocalized my thoughts, breathing in the fresh scent of these evergreen trees around me.

"No," he answered, probably confused at my not-so-mart discovery. "This tree tunnel leads to the pool. It was made to keep the pool area private." He informed, from beside me. I liked the consideration put into this place.

"How do we know if someone is not there now?" I asked, curious.

"They're close by. If there was anyone we'd hear them." He replied, and I was glad he did. Normally he tends to ignore my unnecessary curiosity.

Zayed walked ahead of me once more as if my low paced-ness bored him. In front of us were a few stairs, I watched as he ascended those steps, and followed him close by. There I encountered the swimming pool surrounded with four walls, and three changing rooms next to it. I saw the wimping fig too, standing tall and strong, shading the cozy patio placed underneath it. A gushing waterfall fountain was covering one of the walls as well, streaming down to the ground with a splashing sound.

"Whoever designed this place must be creative." I complimented, looking around, admiring the little details.

"Perhaps, if you knew who did, you're going to change your mind." He replied, moving to check the crack on the wall next to the old tree. Its leaves were falling with every blowing wind. I lifted my dress a little so that it wouldn't get wet on the slightly moistened floor and walked to where he stood.

"I am not ready to believe that it was you." I asserted, stopping at a good distance from him.

"Be at peace, I didn't." he contradicted, without looking at me.

"Then who did?"

"Someone you think very highly off."

This made me frown, understanding his indirect mockery. "I don't think as highly of anyone as I think of you." I played, catching his attention. He stepped aside from the tree, letting go of its branch and fixed me in a gaze.

"Was that a compliment?" He asked, sarcastically.

I smirked, staring back at his playful eyes. "What do you think?"

He peered at me, as usual, thinking of another smart remark. "I suggest you stop praising me, or else I'll become conceited."

"More than you already are?" I raised a mischievous eyebrow. Was that even possible? His eyes were already on the seventh sky!

He didn't think that my question deserved an answer so he shot me a smug look instead. As he turned around, I knew it was my cue to follow, which was what I did, wordlessly. We left the pool area through the back door and headed towards another sand dune where the paddock was. On our way, I found it hard to ascend, so I paused to take off my sandals and walk barefoot over the cold sand. As I stood straight again, my sandals in my hands, I noticed him standing three steps ahead, looking at me, questioningly.

"An old habit of mine." I declared, and he nodded without adding anything further.

We had both fallen into step, I admiring the view which got even more wonderful with every single step towards the hill top, and he lost in deep thoughts as usual.

"So I noticed you made up with Mona?" His voice broke through the silence.

I was staring at my feet, as they sank and hid in the sand, but as his sentence finally registered, I raised my head. "Yeah," I nodded, feeling him looking sideways at me. "I am trying to rise above." I spoke, my tone was gentle and moderate.

"Really?" It was obvious, from his tone, that he was mocking me, questioning my seriousness. "That's very unlike your normal self." He played my own game with me.

"I learn from the very best." I ridiculed, trying to shoot back an ironic declaration but I had complimented him, against my will, yet again.

"And what was that with my mother back in the kitchen?" He questioned, pausing because we'd reached at the top of the hill. I knew he was referring to the tea thing that I had done involuntarily. Mother-in-laws are so embarrassing sometimes!

"I was trying to get to the higher levels of greatness." I joked and grinned at myself. I imagined him smiling but didn't turn to look because my eyes had fallen at something greater. The view from up there was breathtaking, the beautiful mixture of the golden brown sand and the various green trees awakened the painter inside of me.

I sighed. "I could paint this." I said louder than I should have.

I felt him moving to stand next to me, both of us staring ahead. "You paint?" He asked, not helping himself and I think I colored. Not many people that knew me, knew that about me.

"Yes, very poorly."

"I'd like to take a look at your poor job sometime." He put forward, taking me off guard and I wasn't able to reply. I slightly retreated, not comfortable enough standing there next to him. With the corner of my eye, I watched him closely, surprised at his behavior today and at the normal conversations we've had. I had never thought that this day could come. How can I allow myself to be nice with him? Had I forgotten everything?

Suddenly, I began regretting all my gestures. But yet I couldn't stop myself. I hated myself for noticing how his short cropped hair had grown a little, now curling into rings, below his ears. I also hated myself for observing that his shades were in his front pocket, not hiding his destructive eyes. He held one phone in his graceful fingers and the other rested in his pocket, the smallest details of his beard were taken under account as well... I could paint that too!

Have you no self-respect? A voice scolded, in my head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hey guyz, hope you guyz are well. For those who asked for what has happened to us? Why don't we post, well, the answer is 'Life' that's what's happened. Been very busy lately hardly got time to come here on wattpad. Hope you guyz forgive us. Thank you for waiting for so long and hope you guyz liked the chapter. If so, then let us know through your votes and comments.

~Lots of Love

~Witty & Witch