Bismillah.
Chapter Six: Two Emotions
Fatima's POV
I reread my newly written poem again and again. I never thought I could finally figure out for myself that I am over Harun. The plane incident was a memory to remember.
FLASHBACK
"Oh Aminah! Assalamu alaykum," I greeted her and rose up.
We cheek-kissed and my heart felt excited. This is so unexpected. I should hate this woman. She stole my man. She cheated on me. She's a flirt. So why am I smiling at her.
"Oh my gosh. You look dashing," she remarked.
I smiled more, feeling confident than I've ever been.
"So you're headed to Kalesa too?" she asked.
Someone cleared his throat and I saw my boss, smiling at us. He was still seated while both of us stood there, oblivious of his presence.
By this time, the people kept looking at us. Now, I know I had to end the conversation. And then Aminah looked at me intently. Wait, is that tears on her eyes?
"I really missed you. I'm so sorry Tima," she said.
This was real tears. In the years I have spent in high school with Aminah, I know she just doesn't cry if she doesn't mean it. Sure upon knowing that I knew of their affairs, she was distant. But maybe those cold shoulders and distance were actually her ways of doing away with the guilt of eating her alive. Aminah was desperate for love. That was always her weakness.
"Silly, it's all in the past now," I said to her.
I hugged her and she hugged me tighter.
"I hope we could catch up anytime soon, perhaps as soon as we land?" she asked.
"Uhm ladies, I am so sorry to interrupt but I do really need to stand up and go to the washroom," Isaac excused himself.
While he was leaving, Aminah continued to gaze at him.
"Who is he?" she asked, with a playful grin on her face.
"My boss," I answered.
"But he looks differently at you, he likes you," she said bluntly.
I found myself blushing, and nervous at the same time.
"Nonsense," I said, waving my hand.
Aminah being Aminah, sat on Isaac's seat.
"Come on, don't deny it. There is something. I can sense something," she mused.
She looks so excited. And her excitement is very very much contagious that I find myself giggling.
Isaac Khalid? I mean Isaac Khalid, ladies and gentlemen, having a crush on me? Any girl, any lady, any woman would be over the moon for that.
I can see now the reason why Isaac left. He must have wanted me and Aminah to talk more.
"There's nothing," I denied.
Okay, I don't get myself really now. This is a whole different side of me. Why the heck am I so happy? Has it something to do with reading Isaac's notes few minutes ago?
Aminah and I chat some more. Midway in our conversation, Harun looked towards our direction. He smiled at me and I waved and smiled at him. He then go back to the magazine he was reading.
And it was that moment, I realized, I am over him, I am over them.
Masha Allah.
Funny how few minutes could help drown a century of heartaches and pain.
"Add me back on facebook?" Aminah pleaded.
"Of course," I assured her.
We hugged each other again before she got back to her seat. A minute later, Isaac returned.
He got the magazine and read. Then as if remembering something, he got something inside his pocket. It was my mini – notebook.
"I took all my time to read most of your work," he said, looking satisfied.
I gasped. I got the notebook from him and placed it inside my bag. Then as childish as it may seem, I covered my face with my hands, then shook my head, hating the gibberish things I've written on my notebook.
He chuckled.
"Come on, it's not that bad. The nest dies and the bird flies," he teased.
I removed my hands from my face and then, started hitting him with my hand.
"Stop it, stop it. You shouldn't have read them you dork!" I kept on saying.
He only let me do it until I was tired of hitting him. And then Isaac gazed at me and there was too much mischievousness, so much joy in his eyes.
His eyes, those choco brown eyes that seem to draw me in. I could get lost in them and I won't mind at all.
My mind seems to recall the line from his notes. Is Isaac really feeling something for me? Why do I feel so lucky? All in one day Fatima? All in one day.
I looked away, huff a little, then sat up straight. I heard Isaac sat up straight too but he returned the magazine back. His manly scent is really amazing that I need to try not to truly smell it or else I would look like a lunatic woman.
"If it's any consolation Ms. Maryam, you write so good. I like your free verse style," he praised.
My heart was racing. The CEO of Writeworthy Inc., likes my writing style. Does this mean I get a shot of being published? Stop it Fatima, you're going ahead of yourself.
The rest of the flight went well. After an hour and a half, we were already landing to Kalesa International Airport. Isaac was the one who pushed the trolley containing all our bags. Walking with a handsome man is flattering. Ya Allah, why am I absolutely joyful?
As we were headed to the limousine waiting for us, I saw again Harun and Aminah hailing a cab. Aminah waved goodbye and I did the same.
The chauffeur opened the door and Isaac and I got in. I can never get used to the wide space of a limousine. I also do not know why a humble man like Isaac had a limousine.
It was 9:15pm, and I was feeling hungry.
"We're staying at a hotel. We'll have dinner there, is it okay with you? Or we could stop over to the nearest restaurant if you want?" Isaac said.
I shook my head.
"I'm good Sir. We'll dine at the hotel," I replied politely.
He nod and smiled back.
"So about your friend Aminah and the guy she's with, are those two the reasons of the poem you wrote?" Isaac asked me.
I was grateful that the driver is out of earshot from us.
"Yeah," I confessed.
"I see," he said.
"Can I be honest?" he asked, intriguing me.
He looked at me. When he looks at me like that, I wish I could just stay like that.
"Yes," I said, my voice slow.
"The last poem you wrote.... Uhm, it's topsy – turvy," he said, as if hesitant.
"Which means?" I asked, shocked at the loudness of my voice.
"Try feeling your heart and writing your heart out. It will come out beautiful," he suggested.
But it was from my heart. I wanted to say but decided not to. So all I do is nod and said thank you. I am touched that he is giving me advices about my writing.
Isaac Khalid is something. And I have a feeling he might be staying inside my mind, for quite a long long time.
END OF FLASHBACK
There was a knock on my door and I sat up straight on my bed. It must be my boss. We just had dinner on the restaurant and I was already in my pink pajamas. Maybe he needs something.
I got my black ready-to-wear veil and put it on. I headed for the door and opened it. Sure enough, it was Isaac, wearing an apple green shirt and black pants. Is he not going to sleep yet? It's almost 11 o'clock. The groundbreaking ceremony will start at 8am tomorrow. I don't want to be late on the first program / project that my boss has assigned to me.
"Yes Sir?" I asked.
He was holding out a USB.
"Edit my speech," he said.
"Oh," I said.
I opened the door and he was about to come in.
"Do you mind if I come in? You do got a laptop right?" he inquired.
"How about we edit this at the lounge or cafe? I'll just grab my coat," I said otherwise.
I smiled at him first and then slowly, closed the door on his face. I saw him smirked and shook his head.
My heart was again racing. Why does he need me to edit his speech? I bet he's a better writer than I am.
I got my red coat, wore and buttoned it then grabbed my notebook and laptop. I opened the door and he was standing by the wall. He smiled at me.
"Let me carry that for you," he offered.
I was shocked but I let him carry the laptop and my mini – poetry notebook. He walked ahead of me and I followed him. Inside the elevator, it was only the two of us.
"Are you sleepy yet?" he asked.
"A bit," I answered honestly.
"This will just be for a little while, I promised," he said.
"No problem. This is part of my job Sir," I answered.
The elevator opened and we headed for the café.
Isaac's POV
I wanted to see her. I wanted to walk with her. I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to listen to her. I wanted to be near her. That's why I made an excuse that I need her to edit my speech.
She looked so adorable a while ago wearing her pink pajama. Now, with her long red coat and black veil, she just transformed into an independent working woman. I knew she wrote a new poem, just a hunch. And that is also one of the reasons why I offered to bring her things.
We selected the last booth at the far right corner of the café. We sat opposite to each other as she opened her laptop. A waiter got our order. We both ordered coffee.
"Hmmm, this seems fine. I don't know what else to add. There is no need to add anything more," she said.
"Then add something you would want to say if you were me," I said.
She gave me a puzzled look while I started to open her mini – poetry notebook. Her eyes opened widely.
"Why are you opening that?" she asked and started getting the notebook from my grasp.
"I'm your critic reader and your poem writing coach, so let me do this for you in exchange of you doing that for me," I told her while pinpointing the laptop with my other hand.
She gauged at me and simply shook his head.
"Whatever," I heard her mumbled.
But since, she was smiling, I took it as a cue of letting myself read her latest poem. I said Bismillah, before reading, as I have a feeling this might make me want her more than I already do.
"Why Sad Endings Are Happy
Why Quiet Endings Are The Sweetest
Because sadness is paying your dues to deserve to be at your happiest
Because that sadness is finally wavering
Because it was always Allah's Plan to make us feel a bit sadder just so HE can draw us a little closer
Because you were hurt but trusted Allah still
Because we know Allah tests the people HE loves
Because you've been patient but had to break down because you're human
Because we're weak but helped by the Mercy of Allah.
And quiet endings that need not utter goodbye could only mean one thing (from her) -
it was true (but he never knew)
it was whole (because it was sincere)
but it wasn't ours to keep (t wasn't meant to blossom into anything else).
Sadness.
Silence.
Her Happiness
The Soon in Now
Her Sweetest Side
The Secrecy of Her True Love
Has Finally Come to its
ENDING."
My heart was in fast beat. There's only two emotions I am feeling right at this very moment.
Envy and Jealousy.
It may be a poem of letting go but she just admitted it was true love. She may have written that it has come to an ending but she's just kidding herself.
She isn't over that Harun.
Not even her genuine smile during our flight and the brightness of her eyes could trick me.
Not even the fact that she looks so inspired and excited, sitting opposite next to me.
I wrote a poetry – note for her this day, on the few hours we just met. But she hasn't written anything for me. I know it's only been less than 24 hours but I was jealous already.
I've never been this jealous.
"There, it's done," she said dramatically, happily while letting the laptop faced towards me.
I smiled and read the added lines she wrote for my speech. It was good. She's good. But I was bothered and again, envious and jealous. I feel very bad already.
How come he never knew that she truly love him? What kind of stupidity does that Harun man have?
"Can I hypothetically ask a question Ms. Maryam?" I asked, my voice sounding formal.
"Of course Sir, what is it?"
"If I ask you to marry me, would you say yes?" I asked hurriedly, wanting to hear her say yes, right there and then.
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"Love is a sickness and it's cure is nikah (marriage)."
- Hadith
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Lemme know what you think, vote and comment. In shaa Allah.
Poem used in this chapter is written by me, yours truly.
Thank you!