Hearts On Fire

33: Beard Gang

"Ranka ya dade! (May you live long!)" They both heard the voice of the maid that had escorted Rahma to the living room. Fatima Zarah was so fast at peeling her body off from him and he was as calm as Al-mustapha could ever be. He guided her to the sofa he wanted to seat and she sat by his side, while having him clutching her hand.

Rahma took her eyes off from their hands and she found herself a spot and sat down, there was a smile on her face. Even Al-mustapha that still haven't mastered the art of human body language, he knew the smile was painted. Somewhere, there was an invisible colour and brush by each side of her cheeks. She took her eyes off from him and ducked her head down.

Fatima Zarah nudged his shoulder and he leaned down to hear what she wanted to say. "You're the one that's supposed to start up a conversation, Al-mustapha. Start by greeting her first, how she is and all." She knew he didn't know how to do it, and sitting here in silence will only add more to the awkwardness eating up every CO2 (carbondioxide) they had exhaled. He looked into her eyes as if he was trying to see her sincerity, and she nodded her head at him.

"How are you, Rahma?" That came like a bolt, because Rahma had never imagined him to say something close to this. She knew him all her life, like she opened her eyes to him in the palace. She had crushed on him more than she had ever done. Like she had never crushed on any guy before. And slowly, it turned to love. But no matter how she would talk to him, he had never for once spoke to her or even called her name.

She loved the way her name sounded on his lips, so perfect that even the Sultan didn't voice it out correctly. She nibbled on her inner cheek to avoid her blush from creeping out, reminding herself that he was seated beside his wife, and her hand was clutched in his, while he carelessly played with her fingers. As if that was something he was used to doing all his life. She gulped down a lump in her throat and looked up at them.

"Good Afternoon, Yaya Prince. I'm fine." She knew she had to greet Fatima Zarah, but that was something she wasn't ready to do. Like she can't be that obedient knowing it will only be a matter of days and she would be the one seated by his side and her hand will be the one clutched into his. She felt within at just the thought of that.

"I though you are to greet her, Rahma?" He asked, completely ignoring the greetings she sent his way. He could feel the way Fatima Zarah was nudging at his shoulder. Without looking at her he knew that she wanted to tell him to stop that, but there was no way he could. He might not know what was right, but he knew royally she had to greet Fatima Zarah.

Rahma groaned silently, she knew Al-mustapha so much, may be even more than her own siblings. And she knew what he was capable of doing and now. And if she didn't greet Fatima Zarah as he said, there would surely be a fire on the mountain. And by Allah she had looked up to this meeting ever since she knew she had reached the stage of marriage, with Al-mustapha seated across the living room and he came for her. What she just didn't planned out was him seated together with another woman by his side.

"Good Afternoon, Fatima..." she knew of the fact that Fatima Zarah hated to be called that, but she can't just greet her without atleast riling her up.

To her surprise, Fatima Zarah smiled subtly before she spoke, "Fatima Zarah please, that's the name. And, I'm fine, I hope you are?"

With a soft groan, she looked at Al-mustapha and he wasn't even paying attention to her. "Yes, I am. Thank you for asking." This had to be the most torturous meeting she would ever have in her life.

Fatima Zarah sat upright and looked at him for brisk moment before she turned her eyes back at Rahma, "As you know, my husband, oh sorry; our husband isn't much of a talker. I'll do most of the talking today. But before that, he just gets back from work and we were told that we have our lunch prepared here, can you please ask one of those maids to serve the meal?"