The Scars They Hide

Chapter Thirteen - That's What You Get For Being Nice

Chapter Thirteen – That’s What You Get For Being Nice

Days were days and weeks were weeks. They did what they did and what they did was pass.

Not that Lutfiyah could ever complain. Her life was good. May was growing and she was growing fast. She was happy too and that was the most that Lutfiyah could ask for.

But of course, things couldn’t just stay normal and boring. No, life had to shake things up a little for her.

Lutfiyah wrapped the towel around her as she exited the shower, her skin breaking out into goosebumps as the cool air hit her. She shivered slightly and hurried to wipe herself down, her mind running on what still had to be done before going to bed.

Finally done, she threw her wet towel into the hamper. She had to do laundry the next day anyway.

Clean and warm, she checked on her sleeping daughter before cleaning up the room and packing away all the knit bits lying around. If there was one thing that she had inherited from her mother, it was her need to have things neat before going to bed.

She exited her room, glancing around her flat as she headed towards the door to check the locks. And that was when she heard it.

Pressing her ear to the door, she heard a muffled shout of anger and what sounded like a kick. Startled, she pressed herself more firmly against the wood but there was just silence.

Against her better judgement, she carefully unlocked the door and took off the chain.

This is how people die in movies, Lutfiyah. Don’t open the door!

She opened the door and peeped out.

“Jaafar?”

Confusion swept through her as she saw him leaning against his door, exhaustion etched into his features.

His gaze snapped up to look at her, guilt flooding his eyes.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

She shook her head and self-consciously crossed her arms in front of herself. It was eleven at night after all and kaftan or not, she was technically still in nightwear.

“No, I...uh I was checking the locks before going to bed. Is everything okay?”

Jaafar glanced around nervously, running a hand through his hair before nodding. “Yeah, everything is fine. Go to sleep.”

She stared for a second before nodding and stepping back into her flat. “Okay, Assalamualaikum.”

He lifted a hand in greeting and watched her close her door. Sighing, she locked the door again and head for her room.

She was just settling into her warm bed when a thought came over her. It was stupid but...

She threw her hijaab back on and opened her door softly, peeking out again. He was still by his door but he was on the floor now, his back against the door, head leaning back. He looked like he was asleep.

What was going on?

Leaving the door open, she grabbed her phone and called her cousin.

“Fiyah! Assalamualaikum! How are you?” Sara’s enthusiastic greeting made her smile and she greeted back before being interrupted. “Hey, isn’t it like half eleven or something by you? Why are you still up?”

She peeked out her door again and frowned at the sleeping man before whispering the predicament to Sara.

She whistled lowly. “How does this stuff even happen to you?”

Lutfiyah grimaced. “I don’t know. Now help me. What must I do?”

She could hear mumbling in the background before Sara answered. “Well, Riyaad says that you should invite the poor guy in and let him use the couch.”

Lutfiyah smiled. “Last I heard, people were paying millions to have Riyaad give them his opinions and here I am getting one for free. I think I should grab this opportunity with both hands. Except for the fact that he’s a na-mahram and I can’t just invite people into my home! Thanks for nothing, Riyaad!” she whisper-yelled into the phone, earning a fit of giggles from Sara.

“Aaand I was about to say before you interrupted me that Riyaad proves time and time again that he is stupid so do not listen to him. I say you leave the creep outside and go to bed!” Sara said after her laughter had died down along with her husband’s grumbles.

Lutfiyah peeped out again and her heart ached when she saw Jaafar slump forward, his head lolling slightly. He did not look comfortable.

“Sara, he’s sleeping outside. There has to be something that I can do.”

Sara gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine, just ask him if he wants a blanket or something. And then go to bed.”

“Okay okay. Love you. Assalamualaikum.”

“Love you too. Call me in the morning so that I know that you’re alive. Waalaikumusalaam.”

Lutfiyah hung up and placed her phone onto the small entrance table before peeping out again.

“Jaafar,” she whispered, hoping to wake him. He couldn’t have been in a very deep sleep, not in that position anyway. She whispered his name two more times before his head jerked up, banging against the door behind him.

She winced in sympathy and waited for him to get his bearings and realise what had happened.

He stared at her in reproach. “I thought that you’d gone to bed,” he said, his voice low and rough from his nap.

“Yeah, um, I have no idea why I’m even here but...would you like...” a blanket? “Would you like to come inside?”

Her brain screeched to a halt and she groaned inwardly.

“What?” he asked.

“What?” she said in reply.

He looked at her in confusion, obviously wondering if she had lost her marbles.

She shifted her feet then ploughed on. “I asked if you would like to come inside. You’re obviously locked out so you can just crash on my couch until the morning. It’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. It was a very big deal. She was not one to let strange men come sleep on her couches and she was beginning to question her own sanity.

He looked dumbfounded for a moment before he scrambled up in a move that should have been dorky but was just adorable.

Cue inward groan.

“Uh, are you sure?”

“No,” she replied truthfully and smiled as his eyes widened. “But I won’t be able to sleep knowing that you’re out here. Just come in.”

She stepped into her flat, leaving the flat open before heading for her linen cupboard.

She heard the door close and lock behind her and for some reason smiled in relief. Grabbing a blanket and pillow, she turned to see him standing awkwardly in her lounge.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He shook his head slightly, leaning forward to take the bedding from her before placing them on the couch.

“I really appreciate you doing this, Ms Abbas.”

She must have been more tired than she thought or maybe her sanity was really going because she said, “Agh just drop the formalities. You’ve played House House with my daughter, seen me screech like a little girl and are now about to sleep on my admittedly small couch. I think that Lutfiyah should be fine.”

'Lutfiyah' was not fine. Sara was going to kill her.

He nodded and turned to the couch before she spoke again.

“Bathroom is the door on the left. Extra toothbrush in the cupboard below the sink. Uhm, sleep well. Assalamualaikum.”

He greeted softly in reply and Lutfiyah felt his gaze on her back the entire time until she entered her room.

It was only after fifteen minutes off tossing and turning, hearing him use the bathroom and brush his teeth, as she was finally drifting off to sleep that she remembered what else she kept in that cupboard below the sink.

Great. Now he knew what brand of sanitary wear she used.

# # #

Consciousness came to her in segments. First, the sound of her alarm intruded on her.

She glanced at her phone and the bright numbers blinking back at her for a few confusing seconds. Why was it ringing so early?

Then memories crashed into her brain.

Oh.

It was like a splash of cold water to her face. She sat up with shock, the duvet tugging at her movement. Her head was spinning.

Groaning in that way that people groaned when they had to wake up early, she rolled out of bed and stood for a few undecided moments before tucking May back in and heading to the bathroom.

After washing up and performing her ablutions, she walked into the lounge on shaky legs.

She’d have to wake him. He couldn’t miss his prayers. She hoped to Allah that he was not a heavy sleeper.

“Jaafar?” she whisper-shouted, standing five feet away from him. No movement. Just his face smashed into the pillow, comforter bunched down to his waist. She could barely see anything in the dark room, his silhouette just visible to her. “Jaafar, wake up. It’s fajr time.” Still no movement. “Jaafar!” Dead silence.

That was just perfect. She had to get a neighbour who slept like a log.

Deciding to read her own prayers and then coming to wake him up, she slipped into her room and did just that. She knew there was a reason she’d set her alarm earlier.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked into her kitchen and pulled out her wooden spoon. It was time for drastic measures. She switched on the light and walked towards him.

Standing closer, she began prodding him with the spoon, calling his name repeatedly. Finally, signs of life reached her as he lifted his hand to swat the spoon away, grumbling in annoyance.

Prod.

Swat.

Prod.

Swa- “Stop it, Aysh. I’m waking up.”

Lutfiyah froze, her arm in the aborted motion of another prod. Who was Aysh?

Deciding to ponder about that later she prodded again because he still hadn’t woken up and time was going. “Jaafar, wake up! You’ve only got twenty minutes le- aah!”

She squeaked as his hand whipped out and pulled her wrist, forcing her to stumble forward. Her left hand flayed out to break her fall and she whimpered as pain shot up her wrist when it hit the back of the couch. The same arm that had pulled her, wrapped around her tightly as he pulled her down to him. Her hijaab had slipped off in the chaos and his nose was now in her hair. Her heart was beating so fast that she almost didn’t hear his mumble. “I said I’m waking up. Now sleep awhile with me.”

She. Was. Dying.

She shoved at him and that seemed to rouse him as he too froze then opened his eyes with shock.

“Shit. F*ck. I am so sorry! Shit. Sorry for swearing.”

She pushed herself up and dusted herself off, her eyes everywhere but on him.

“It’s fine. Just. Wake up. It’s fajr time.”

And she walked away.

# # #

She should be upset. She should be angry. Maybe amused. Or confused?

What she was, was freaking out. Because instead of having a panic attack at being manhandled, all she could remember was how it felt as he’d held her to him, nose in her hair, mumbling sweetly at her.

Her heart was thudding to a beat only it understood and Lutfiyah was freaking out.

This was what happened when she did something nice.

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