Part 21 – Filtered Moonlight
In many of the fairy tales and other novels that Maleeha read as a child and teenager, adventures where the parts were character growth developed. It either made or broke the character. Most of the times, the adventures led to beautiful discoveries.
Were it not for the sudden 180-turn in the plot, not many of her heroines would have found love. It was always during the trials that she fell in love with the story. The trials that the characters faced, turned into beautifully paved roads to happily ever after.
Maleeha snorted – internally. She no longer believed in happily ever after. There was only happily never after. And if there was such a thing as happily ever after, there was no guarantee that they lived together. She knew that it was a cynical belief, but she saw it first hand for herself.
Not everyone had a happy marriage. There was always some fault, some misfortune. Every marriage seemed borderline divorce. What was once the characteristic for marriage, turned out to be the thing that they hated the most during their marriage. If, for example, the husband always fought for his opinion and didn't back down, in their early days of the marriage, the wife would love it, yet later on, it would be the thing she grows to hate.
It seemed contradictory to Maleeha. If you loved the trait earlier, you should be certain that it could be something you could live with for the rest of your life.
Long term decisions should not be made on fleeting decisions, at least, that was what Maleeha believed.
Until she found herself looking imploringly at her husband.
That word still seemed to freak her out, but she learned to hide it well. Husband. She never thought that she would be married to him. Zaakir Ahmed was not her first choice in a husband. Well, truthfully, he wasn't even her choice. She only agreed because she trusted her father and wanted her parents happy and at peace.
"Zaakir," she whined.
To his credit, Zaakir turned around and stopped. He looked at her understandingly, knowing the position she was in. Zaakir let out a sigh. "I know," he replied as he swallowed a large gulp.
Maleeha and Zaakir were forced to walk to the nearest town, to Calitzdorp. However, neither of them were able to make it even halfway. Both of them were too spoiled to manage the long, hard walk in the icy weather of the Western Cape winters. They were forced to take many breaks, many stops. It was past noon, they knew that, but with the sun setting, neither knew the time for sure.
"Let's keep an eye out for any place that looks like it will be safe to rest in."
Maleeha, irritable and tired, scoffed. "We are stuck in the Karoo, Zaakir. It's an arid piece of land. There's nothing in sight!" Maleeha was stressing out and panicking.
He nodded, trying to placate her and keep her calm. "I know, Maleeha." Zaakir walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "But I already told you, we are together, and I won't let anything happen to you."
As he rested his chin on her head, she basked in his comfort. Even if it only lasted for a moment.
Then, Zaakir pulled back and looked at her in her eyes. He could see her fear, her exhaustion and the toll that the trip was having on her. It pained him and made him feel guilty that she was suffering through all of the troubles. "I know that it's almost dark, but I think I can see something, like an abandoned structure," he told her.
"But what if there's something there? What if people are staying there?" she squeaked out.
Although Zaakir was afraid, he concealed it well and kept himself together for her sake. "It's okay, Maleeha," he placed his hands on her face and forced her to look at him. "We'll chase whatever is there away, and if there are people there then you and I will ask if we could sleep there, okay?"
She nodded. Hesitantly, she reached for his hand and locked her fingers with his. As weird as she felt by calling him her husband, Maleeha knew that it was irreversible. She would stay with him, all she needed to do was place her trust in Allah and make fervent dua that everything would go smoothly. If she prayed with all her heart, there was no reason why it wouldn't come true.
Zaakir was surprised by Maleeha's bold gesture of holding his hand, but nonetheless, he kept his mouth tightly shut. Instead, a broad grin covered his face unknowingly. He would never say it out loud, but he enjoyed her holding his hand. It was as if she trusted him and that was greater than even gaining her love.
Maleeha was a strong woman who didn't need a man to take care of her. Zaakir saw that and witnessed it by the brutal way she and her friends videoed the idiot she was going to marry her. That thought made him angry.
He couldn't stomach the idea of her being married to anyone else. The only way he knew to take his mind of the topic was to talk to her. "Have you ever been in love?"
The words just flew from his lips. If there were anyway that he could take them back, he would, but he was also curious to hear her answer. His heart rate sped up. What if her answer was yes? What if it was no? Did she love him? Could she love him? Is she in love with him? What would he do?
He was terrified as he waited for her answer. Zaakir nibbled nervously on his lower lip as he kept his gaze to the floor.
"Honestly?" Maleeha asked, her voice small and unsure.
That question already caused his heart to sink. He instinctively knew the answer. She had loved before.
He was guilty of it as well and he didn't judge her, but it was just that... he sighed. Zaakir didn't want to think about that any longer. It was a long shot.
"Yeah, I want your honest answer." It pained him to say those words, but it was true. He only wanted her honesty. Annoyed, he kicked a pebble out of his way.
"Do you remember when I started working for you?" she titled her head to look at him.
He smiled as he answered her. "Of course."
"Well, a few weeks before that, I had an assignment." She rolled her eyes as she smiled at the memory. "We had to market a product. Pooja, Hector and I marketed this product called Slimmer's XXX."
There was a flutter in his chest. Oh God! No! Shame covered his face and he didn't want to know her reaction. No, no, no, no, no!
Zaakir knew what was coming next and he didn't know whether to feel a burning rage or deliriously happy. Unless things took a 180◦ turn. He doubted that it would, but could he count on Maleeha's reactions to be sane?
Hardly.
She giggled adorably, and he allowed the sound to wrap itself around him like a safety net. "I know that it's a funny name, but it is an actual product. Anyway," she continued. "It was about a day or two from the day we would be graded, and there was this guy that commented."
Zaakir delighted in the way that she rolled her eyes. All signs of her earlier fatigue were gone, and he didn't know if he should love the fact that she was so in love with that guy that she forgot that she was tired, or not. It irked him.
"He was so rude and arrogant and haughty!" she huffed and looked at Zaakir with bright eyes gleaming and despite the annoyed tone, she had a wide smile on her face.
Would she ever talk about him that way one day? Would her eyes show her happiness and laughter? Would she ever be happy with him? Or would she only see him as a duty? he wondered. Would she ever feel the same way that he did?
He staggered and let go of her hand. Where did that come from? Zaakir stood, eyes wide as he stared at the darkened flat ground with the occasional shrubbery. Did he really feel something for her?
Zaakir couldn't find the answer. But did it really matter when her eyes, bright and brown showed concern for him as she called his name?
"Zaakir? Zaakir, are you okay?" She walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, over his cold leather jacket.
His eyes focused on her panic-stricken face and he sobered up. "Yeah," he brushed off her worry. "I'm good. No stress, just finding it difficult to picture you in love with anyone," he teased her as he flashed her a big smile.
Zaakir Ahmed, known to most of the world as Zaakir Hussain the ice-cold businessman, brushed off his feelings for his wife and tried to cover it up by bravado, was he worth her at all?
Maleeha laughed and knocked him in the arm with her elbow as he laced their iced fingers together again. "It happened, but it was foolish," she admitted uncomfortably.
"So," he said enjoying the warmth of her fingers. "What happened to your rude and arrogant guy?"
"I married him and lived happily ever after!" Maleeha broke out in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, completely unaware to the erratic beating of Zaakir's heart. Maleeha then rolled her eyes at him. "I don't really know. I used to email him often before I married you."
Utterly unaware of Zaakir's immediate panic, or scrambled state Maleeha prattled on. She casted him a sideways glance. "It's not like I used the work internet, or laptop," she hastened to remind him. "I used to sit on my phone and email him after I was done with whatever you delegated me."
He hummed in answer, but nodded to tell her to continue.
Her voice suddenly turned shy. "I don't know how it happened, but it went from anger to friendship and suddenly I found myself falling for him.
"We would chat all day and all night. I would wake up to an email from him and go to bed with a long one from him. During the day, he would complain to me about his work, his stresses..."
"And tell you how tired he was," Zaakir interjected.
Wide eyes, Maleeha turned and looked at him. "Don't be rude and cut in!" Maleeha admonished, missing the visible cue Zaakir was giving her.
"How did you know you were in love with him?" Zaakir asked brushing off her admonishment. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest. A stampede of wild stallions couldn't compare to the thundering his heart was doing. Despite the frigid weather, he was feeling hot under the collar, uncomfortable as he spoke more and more with Maleeha.
She looked up at him, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shy. "He sent me his favourite poem."
" 'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight'," Zaakir paused at Maleeha's gasp. She let go of his hand and stood rooted to her spot. Her eyes lost their shy sparkle and instead glistened with her unshed tears.
Afraid of her, of her reaction, Zaakir ploughed on as he looked at her, studied her tiny, shivering frame and continued. "'For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.'"
Maleeha cried, silently, noiselessly. Hot tears just rolled down her face as her saucer-like eyes stared at Zaakir. "You're a liar! A cheater!" she accused him.
He stood there defencelessly and allowed her to hit his chest and arms and anywhere else that she could reach.
"You knew! How could you do this to me? How long have you known that it was me behind the fake email? You're disgusting!"
Until she tiredly collapsed against his chest, Zaakir let her expel all her anger. Gently, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. "I didn't know until you mentioned Slimmer's XXX," he told her calmly as he leaned his cheek against her head.
Slowly, he pulled apart and looked at her, then waited for her to look at him. She didn't. "Maleeha," he called huskily. With his finger pads, he titled her chin upwards, forcing her to look at him. "I promise you that I didn't know it was you behind that fake account," he explained earnestly.
Shocked to her core, Maleeha glared at him as her tears fell. "Now you probably think I'm the stupidest girl in the world," she hissed at him as she turned around angrily on her heel and stalked off.
All Maleeha could feel was the horrible shame creeping up her spine as she huffed off. What did he think of her now? Did he think that she was some stupid girl? One silly girl that just fell for any guy? Did he think she was senseless? That she had no taste in men? First Yahya, the guy who turned out to be gay, and now some random guy on the internet who she just happened to marry?
She didn't know what to think.
She was angry at herself for not realizing that it could have possibly been Zaakir. But how could she have guessed? It was the internet, for heaven's sake! It could have literally been any random person.
There was no reason for her to even speculate that it could have been Zaakir. Despite her logical brain telling her that there was no way for her to even consider Zaakir being the idiot to comment, she still cried.
Suddenly, she felt the warmth of Zaakir's arms envelope her and pull him against his chest as he hugged her from behind. "Maleeha!" he rasped in her ear. "I'm sorry," he said as he kept her firmly, not allowing her to walk away from him.
Zaakir had no idea why he was apologizing, but he shrugged it off as a side-effect of marriage. One had to apologise, even if they were not wrong, or had any idea of what they had done wrong. Loathe as he was to admit it, Zaakir had suddenly realized that he was in love with his stubborn, emotional and annoying wife.
He was in love with Maleeha.
Resting his head on her shoulder, he let out a sigh. "I fell in love with that silly chocolate addict," he whispered.
Stubbornly, she raised her elbow and forcefully pulled it back – into Zaakir's stomach. He let out a heartbreaking 'oooof!' but didn't release his hold on her.
"Don't lie," she warned him in a low voice. Her feminine voice was thick and heavy from the tears.
"I'm not," he insisted truthfully. "Qur'aan Kasam," he vowed. With one hand, he turned her around and caressed her face. "She was silly and entertaining." He placed a light kiss on her jaw line. "She made me laugh and smile. She was kind and considerate."
In response, Maleeha rolled her eyes. She didn't believe him, she couldn't believe that Zaakir could have fallen for her. She didn't think that she was someone who anyone could fall in love with. Despite not acknowledging how hurt she had been over Yahya's sexuality, she was incredibly hurt and her self-esteem had taken a massive knock. It was illogical to think that she could turn him 'straight', but to have been used as a cover was insulting and it had left her feeling vulnerable.
Maleeha doubted that love truly existed in the twenty-first century. Life was too accessible. The notion of love was easily available at a single click on a button. Ninety-nine percent of the population lived on the internet, a place where everything was made easy and available. For that reason, Maleeha felt insecure.
How could she trust that anyone could love her? Perhaps it was the idea of her that was lovable, not that she knew exactly it was about her that was lovable. How could anyone see anything good in her? What about her could appeal to someone?
Faking confidence was easy for her, pretending to be unaffected and unruffled was child's play, but nothing had ever prepared her for the shock of finding out her email friend's identity. What was worse was that it turned out to be Zaakir.
Zaakir. Guilt settled in her heart.
Maleeha had unfairly settled on Zaakir. She was entirely reluctant to marry him, but with her father's pleading, she knew that she could marry him and not worry about falling in love with him. It would be easy. Zaakir had nothing that she wanted in a spouse. But, as she spent more and more time with him, it was clear to see that he was everything that she needed in a husband, in a life partner.
"Stop," she said softly. "Please, just stop." Gulping quietly, she leaned forward and just rested her head against his chest. Eyes squeezed shut, she fisted her hands on the sides of his waist as the thump-thump galloping of his heart helped her clear her mind and process everything he said.
Nodding, Zaakir wrapped his arms around her as the wind blew harshly around them. "It doesn't change anything, Maleeha."
It was dark for a while, Maleeha and Zaakir were huddled in the corner of a dreadfully dilapidated house structure. It was probably once a beautiful homestead on a large farm. Half of the structure was missing. There was no roof, no true shelter had it been raining, or anything worse than that. Most of the walls were disorganized patterns of being there or not. It was as if nature had tried to make it the world's worst possible shelter that they could find.
Unfortunately for them, it was all they had. They could not even afford to build a fire. There was no kindling or wood of any kind for them to start a fire with. Teeth chattering, they looked at one another.
With the silent and unspoken realization that they loved one another, albeit the online identity that they had emailed, things were slightly uncomfortable. Neither could bear to look the either in the eye.
Maleeha glanced up briefly and frowned at the sight. Zaakir was rocking back and forth, his hands running rapidly over the length of his arms trying to heat up. To be fair, she knew she was doing the same thing, but it wasn't helping. She supposed it would have to be the early part of the morning for it to be so cold. "Z-zaakir?"
Hardly managing to get the single syllable out, Zaakir hummed, "Hmm?"
"Don't get any ideas, but let's share a sleeping bag so that it is warmer," she rushed out and casted her eyes on the dark ground in front of her. Her words came out mushed, partially due to the cold and partially due to her embarrassment.
His raspy chuckle came out in half-choking sounds, that made Maleeha glance at him with wide eyes, just ascertaining that he was still alive. "Wasn't going to get any ideas," he barely breathed out. "It's too cold to even pretend I like you."
Maleeha unwillingly let out a shocked gasp at his offensive comment. She was of a mind to tell him to stay where he was, to continue freezing in the cold, but she refused to freeze to death. Freezing to death was too painful, too harsh to her, and she refused to allow herself to be cold when there was another option available, even if it came at the cost of her pride.
Gulping loudly, she unzipped her sleeping bag and dragged it nearer to Zaakir's sleeping bag, which she then promptly unzipped and began zipping them together, thus making a bigger sleeping bag. Zaakir, meanwhile, gave her a wide-eyed stare as she nimbly worked.
"Get in," she ordered as she slid in quietly and looked at him, daring him to object. Thankfully, he didn't and did as she asked.
Zaakir was stiff as a board. He was uncertain on what to do. Should he hold her? Creep closer to her so that they could warm up from each other's body heat? Should he wait for Maleeha to make the first move?
The chill in the air made Maleeha bold, and for once, Zaakir was glad that she initiated it all. He was afraid, though he would never admit it to her, to push her boundaries.
Maleeha was the one who let out an exasperated sigh as she wiggled closer and molded her body to Zaakir's. Although he would hate for her to see it, a smile crept up on his face and he took his arm and stretched it out as he wound it around her waist, keeping her flushed against him.
She made the move and he would abuse it all he could, because he just realized how badly he had it for her. He was suckered and he wouldn't deny it. Zaakir closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to run havoc.
Maleeha's body was practically glued to his. Her one leg was thrown casually over his, her hands were curled under his jacket as her head rested on his chest. Her hair was a dark, messy blanket tangled over his arm and chest, but he reveled in it. A light, rosy scent mixed with sweat wafted into his nose each time he breathed, but for some odd reason, the sweat did not repel him. It had the opposite effect. He did not mind it, it was, in his opinion a unique scent. It was Maleeha's unique scent.
Her small body, was breathing heavily even as she tried to absorb all the heat from him. It just seemed as it wasn't enough for her. Zaakir racked his brain trying to think of something, some way to distract her. Her small puffs of breaths came out quick and fast, then slowly and deeply at times.
"Do you remember the story your Nani would tell you when you were younger?" Zaakir asked her finally. His voice was so soft that it was almost swallowed up in the wind.
"Which one?" she asked after a long stretch of silence.
A bright smile covered his face, even though he knew that she could not see him. It was one of his favourite stories he ever heard. Absentmindedly, he played with a strand of her hair, curling it around his finger and then watching it bounce back. "The story about your great-great grandparents, Muwahid and Lamia."
Maleeha tilted her head up and stared at him with wide eyes. The filtered moonlight from the dilapidated structure gave him just enough to see her features. Her eyes glistened and he could see the shock written in them. "Ho-how do you ..." she trailed off uncertain of how to phrase the question.
"How do I know them?" he asked. She nodded against his jacket, the rough zipper lightly scraping against her cheek. "Don't you remember?" he countered.
He let the question hang. Could Maleeha remember it? Did she remember their shared past? Or has she forgotten it all? Has she forgotten him long before he became Zaakir Hussain?