YA' ABURNEE

Chapter 8

Annual board of directors.

And in no way I could make it to home till 9pm. Or even late than that. I knew Umair had no important meeting or event today. He should be home early. So I thought it would be sound if I informed him of my late arrival.

I pulled my phone out and opened the chat head, Umair Hamza . A fresh text page appears. We never texted each other.

"I'll be late for home.
Don't wait with dinner."

I text him. It says he was online a few minutes ago. Oh, Umair! Reply it fast. I tapped my right feet on tiled floor while impatiently waiting for his reply. If any senior sees me now, I'd have to hear a mouthful for being negligent.

One minute later a ping sound informed me of the awaited reply. I quickly tapped on his text.

"Ok."

Just this? I risked my wait for this ? He didn't ask why would I be late, he didn't want to know if I had had my dinner or not, he didn't even persisted on waiting for me. Here I was anticipating for his reply! I'm such a shameless...whatever.

I angrily switched my phone off and threw it inside my bag which was inside a locked drawer on my desk.

"What happened?" Rima, my colleague, asks from behind me.

Exactly. What happened? Why am I reacting? Why am I behaving as if he were to act differently? Sure I was falling for him. But should I assume that he will be doing the same? No.

"Nothing. Let's go. We'll be late if we don't hurry up with the presentations." I replied as I grabbed my laptop and started for the conference room.

"Yeah. Let's go." She followed right behind me.

It was already 15 past 10 when I arrived. I parked my car just behind Umair's. After a long day at work, I was really wishing if I could avoid the hustle of driving through Dhaka's traffic and just take a taxi to home. But I couldn't leave my car behind. He could've asked how would I go back home this late. Of course, it wasn't any late for a man in Bangladesh but for a woman it was.

Evils lurk behind those shadows at night and most of them are to attack women and women only.

This thought also didn't allow me to take a taxi alone, apart from tension for car's safety.

My legs were aching already, from standing up and running around for nearly five hours. The veins on my temple were dancing up and down, shooting a severe headache throughout my skull. Even after all of these, I had to take a two hours drive back home pushing through the world famous traffic of Dhaka.

My headache increases, so as my anger with Umair.

I walk past Akbar Chacha, the guard of our apartment building. He wore a shocked and hurt expression as I ignore him and enter the elevator. It was unlikely. Everyday I'd stop by and greet him, ask about his day. He would welcome me with casual hailing and continuing to chew on his betel quid or paan with areca nut.

(Chacha means Uncle in Bangla. And here in Bangladesh it was usual of having one or more than one guards at the gates of residences.)

Today I was in no mood. I'll apologise tomorrow but I'll have to pass it today. I need to go upstairs and take a nice long shower to calm myself down. I'm even in no mood for a dinner. I just want to have a sound sleep later on.

I turn my key in the keyhole. Not wanting to wake Umair up. Even if he is not asleep and busy doing something else, I don't want to let him know I'm home. He doesn't need to know. Oh! Who am I kidding? He'll never be tensed for me.

And even if he is, let him be.

I close the door behind me as silently as possible. The environment was eerily quiet. A known smell hit my nostrils.

I walked forward as the scene unfolds right in front of my eyes. My mouth is hung open as I take in what was happening in the house.

It was a comparatively short chapter. Any guesses what she might've encountered? Well, it may or may not be a pleasant one. Hu hu hu.

And to those who are reading this story and sticking with it, have my flying heart. (Any cannibals out there? Just kidding xD)

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