Caged Nightingale

28- Atif

Mohsin points me to the garden without saying a word.  I find her there with her back against the wall. almost hidden in amongst the vines.  Putting my hands in my pockets, I walk over till I'm stood directly in front of her. the smell of jasmin hangs heavy in the air and the garden. How will i ever be able to look at it again- without imagining her lingering fingers across those petals?

'Don't look at me!' she says, her head down, hair covering her face as  I step closer  and lift her chin with my finger.  she slaps my hand away. 'I'm not good company right now.. . .' she chokes on the words and I can see she's trying not to cry.  Her eyes are glassy and cheeks flushed, she's avoiding looking at me.

After a few moments of silence she says 'I hate myself for feeling like this- weak.' She sounds so small.

I just give her some space , half turning away from her. 'You didn't look weak to me!' I say shaking some of the blossom petals that seems to have fallen from the vines. 'If any thing I would say you looked absolutely bad ass.' I turn to give her a sideways glance and throw a twig at her.  'You gave him the proverbial finger!' I say and smile. 'But what do I know?!" She scoffs.  "you didn't let him convince you to go with him!" I say in protest.

She watches me from under hooded eyes and I feel like I'm looking at an unruly child. she looks so vulnerable. I keep my distance because I want her to come to me, even though I have to fight the instinct to lean in and take her in my arms. 

'Go ahead.' I say 'tell me what you really think of him, say it. I guarantee it'll make you feel better.' I toe something on the floor, not looking at her, as if I'm distracted, giving her space.

'I don't want to give him the satisfaction.' she says biting out the words as if it hurts her to do so. 'I don't want to waste any time thinking about that asshole!'

'Wow!' I say 'Is that the best you've got?'

'Dickhead, fucking asshole, absolute twat.'

'Getting there. . .

'that mother fucking. . . .'

'I think the c word might sound good at the end of that phrase!' I suggest

'cunt!' she says more firmly. 'That obnoxious, arrogant, perverted, fucking cunt.'

She is stood taller and her shoulders are thrown back a little. There's fight in her eyes and flames in her belly. I smile at her and she laughs at me covering her mouth as if realising what she's just done.  We laugh together and I pull her into my arms just as she's trying to cover her face. 

'You were awesome' she says to me and reaches up to take my face and kiss me.

'for a lowlife gangster?' I ask teasing her. 'Nah you left me behind mrs.' I walk her back to the wall and pin her there with my kiss. Its gentle because I sense a vulnerability in her, but she pushes back harder and I let her. Cupping her face with one of my hands suddenly, i look down at her. when that dickhead -for the excuse of a man- was mouthing off, the fear came back.  Even if it was for a second. That I would never be enough for her and she would realise it. The narrative her brother in law had spun out for her: us against him, had felt uncomfortable.  That secret fear I had been harbouring.  Perhaps she was with me because she had no other options, had been uncovered, but I see now that it isn't true.

Qadir was one of the men from the mall. I'm sure of it now. That arrogance, look of disdain on his face- ofcourse, he was slimmer then and has changed over the years, but it was definitely him.  I had got the measure of him, all those years ago, and I hadn't been wrong with my first impression.  I'd met the second man, which meant the last must have been her husband Asim.

I still cant believe that Ali bought Qadir here without asking first. How could he be so naïve? As I took him to the side, I tried to reassure him. I guess he didn't know this was going to happen and probably thought he was being helpful. But Saara had definitely said she didn't want him here on the phone to him. It was clear that Qadir liked doing things his way.  He'd  also leered at her, fuck. When his eyes roamed over her body, I had to fight the urge to rearrange his face. It was like watching a dirty old man. No wonder she didn't like him, let alone trust him. 

Saara isn't anyone's fool.  She stood her ground and seemed much more formidable than he had given her credit for.

We had been a team and it had felt amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing.  And it had been easy with her at my side. We seemed to be in sync.  When had I last felt like that?

Her kisses are more demanding and feverish and I can't help but revel in elation. 'This is my husband' she had said, as if stating a fact. I have lived the best part of the last decade waiting to hear those words and I don't even care if it's a lie.

I take her right there, against the wall. Lifting her effortlessly, and walk her back to the wall, wrapping her legs around my waist as I ease into her.  She gasps my name  and throws her head back as she comes and it is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.  I'm not far behind her. I bury my head into her hair and breath her in, as if my life depends on it.  My heart is ready to burst in my chest, my leg muscles burning but my mind is a whirlwind of ecstasy.

She's mine and there is no force on earth that will take her from me. Ever. 

I just needed to hear her say it.