His silence is his Pride (ON HOLD)

Chapter 34 ~ "One Step Closer"

I drew in a breath sharply, with a hand on my heart and watched him gather his belongings, quickly. I prayed for Jassim under my breath, upon which Zayed turned and fixed me with a peculiar gaze, then looked around, searching for something. I watched as he bent down to open and close the bed-side drawers, disappointingly.

"What are you looking for?" I questioned, as he tucked his hands in his pockets but couldn't find what he searched for.

"Have you seen my car keys?" He inquired.

My eyes skimmed the room and landed back on him. Then remembering where I had seen them last, I made my way to the living room and found them sitting on the square coffee table, opposite to the TV. He'd been watching TV there last night when I went to sleep!

Picking up his wallet and keys, I turned around and noticed that he'd followed me. "Should I call Hamad?" I put forward, as I handed him his belongings, carefully.

Zayed raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you afraid of being alone here?" He inserted his wallet in his kandoraah's pocket. His question seemed like an innocent one but it surprised me, nonetheless.

"No," I shook my head. "I thought maybe you want him to be there with..." I hesitated before continuing.

Perhaps, my consideration took him off guard. We exchanged a look and some unsaid words. "No, I'll take care of this." He asserted, confidently. "Don't trouble the man in the middle of the night." He ordered and walked passed me towards the door. This time I was the one who followed him.

As he got to the door, Zayed whirled around swiftly, facing me. "Move your necessary items from your room to mine. Make it look like no one lives there."

As his sentence registered, I grew confused. "Why?" With furrowed eyebrows, I protested, not liking where this was going.

"I am bringing Jassim back with me." He explained.

"So?" I gave him a stern look of inquiry. The muscles in his face tightened as he stared back at me in that way of his, that you're-too-dumb-for-me way. A gaze that seems awfully familiar now. I could tell he was waiting for me to comprehend it on my own but I didn't.

"We're husband and wife, if you've forgotten." He spoke, a while later. With great force, I looked up at his tall erect posture shadowing over me. "The society expects us to share one room." My husband reminded, embarrassing me thoroughly. Upon encountering my scarlet face he shook his head once again and turned away from me, whispering something to himself that I couldn't hear.

Abashed, I remained silent as he opened the apartment door and got out. "Close the door behind me and don't open it for anyone but myself." He instructed I managed to nod and did what I was told.

Close the door behind him and don't open it for anyone else but him!

That sentence. As simple as it was, but for some reason it meant much more than that to me. The door of my fickle heart had once been open for him, inviting in a dark storm. After him, will I ever be able to close this door? Will it ever open for anyone else?

I hate the fact, that I have grown so erratically used to his presence around me. I have become familiar with the way he speaks, the way he silently approves and disapproves of my actions. I know his schedule, when he eats and goes to sleep. I watch him from the kitchen sometimes, as he puts one hand behind his head and leans back to watch TV. I know some of his interests, although, he doesn't open up to me that much, and I know there is a lot to that mysterious character, but I observe and analyse. Consequently, I have come to realize, that he's much more than this proud and silent person, what lies behind his poker face is either a loathsome personality or a rarity that can get close to perfection.