Chapter 49: "Decision Pending"

Post your reactions as you read. It's got a part of the sneak peak! 😏

First draft: July 2018

No one said anything about the nikkah even after the celebratory mood wore out. Salma's aunt had come for a brief visit. She looked visibly relieved to be out of Tor Mahal for once, however, the trauma of staying in that suffocating palace prison under the watchful eye of the old aristocrat had left its mark. She looked like she was just waiting for some sorts of a retaliation that she feared would come. Salma figured she would calm down overtime. It was still too early and her aunt was yet to free her mind of the shackles of her past. Salma listened to her parents advising Fahad to take care of his mother. The two families bade goodbye and Salma's gut twisted painfully as Fahad and his mother left. Maybe now her parents would address the problem at hand. Her nikkah to Zayn and whether it was still on?

Wrong.

A full day and a half had passed since her aunt's visit and no one said a word about it. It was like everyone had forgotten she was still tied in a conditioned marriage. Salma was desperate for answers, but she did not know if it was right of her to initiate the grim conversation when everyone was so happy after such a long time. There was complete radio silence from Zayn's end too. Since their meeting in the kitchen, he had been quiet. Salma did not text or call him either. In fact, they had not even met on campus. Salma figured he was avoiding her and she was not sure how she felt about that. Grateful, perhaps? She really did not want to meet him until she had some clarity on the status of their relation.

It was late Sunday afternoon when Salma finally heard someone talking about her nikkah. It was her father. He sounded conflicted. Salma overheard him discussing it with her mother when they were out in the backyard.

"It sounds terrible whichever way I go about it . . ." He sighed in exasperation. "If I ask her to continue with the nikkah, I'd be doing her wrong. And yet I don't think Arethas deserves being used like that. That kid has changed my opinion of him during this 'testing' period. His behavior once again has me thinking of him as a great kid and he's been so helpful. I don't know if I'm shooting myself in the foot getting impressed like I was in LA last year but . . ." He let another frustrated sound. "I really feel manipulative using him like that. I don't know what's right anymore. Will he hurt her again? Am I manipulating him? Who is the real kid? Which one of it is an act?"

"It'll be alright," Alley reassured him kindly. Salma moved a little to get a better look at her parents from the glass door in her kitchen. Her mother was patting her father's back in a comforting manner. "We'll talk to Salma about it. There's only so much either of us can do. Inshaa'Allah it'll work out."

"I don't know," Atif sighed. "I feel like she won't be honest with us. You know how she is. She'd think we want her to continue and if she doesn't like the kid and goes into it for our sake. . ."

Her parents became quiet. Salma thought about it too. If they asked her, what would she do? She realized she had no clue. She had not actually thought about it so far. She was mostly depending on her parents to tell her what was to be done now, and why and how she should go about it.

"I know what to do," Alley said after a while. "We'll ask Sarah to find out what Salma really wants."

***

Salma's heart almost stopped every time she crossed paths with Sarah in the campus. The first time was by the café, in the morning. Zayn no longer showed up but Salma got herself a coffee to share with Sarah anyway. The barista always said.

"Your order is already paid for, ma'am."

Salma never argued. She knew who had all her drinks paid for and accepted that he did it as a sign of his love and respect for her, whether or not they were together. She just paid the amount due to her and replied:

"I'll pay for the next person in line," to hopefully start a 'pay it forward' chain. The barista smiled at her that day.

"He paid for a good person. Enjoy your drink."

Thanking the man and accepting the coffee, Salma struggled past the crowd entering the coffee house to find Sarah.

"Hopefully I find out if he'll be coming back around to spare me the struggle of entering the coffee house," she muttered to herself as she located Sarah on the pavement, a little distance from the coffee house.

Salma's stomach churned and heart pounded at a mad pace anticipating the discussion. However, Sarah did not initiate that conversation like Salma expected. She did not seem to bother at all. By the time Salma had to leave for her class, she had started to feel restless. Salma wondered if her mother had even talked to Sarah about it.

Throughout the day, the question kept bothering her. Uncertainty was her weak point. It ate her up on the inside. She needed answers.

Desperate, Salma decided to reverse the chain. The past week had made it very clear that she lacked the guts to initiate the discussion with her parents. It would make sense that she put Sarah up to it and make her inquire her parents on her behalf.

With that intention, Salma jumped out of her seat the moment the professor dismissed the class. She raced to the dormitories before she could overthink her decision to talk to Sarah and lose courage to ask about it. Sarah's door was already partially open when Salma arrived at her room. She raised her knuckles to announce her presence when a voice stopped her. It was her mother's voice.

"What did she say?" she asked.

Salma frowned. Mum?

Against her better judgment she peeked in to see Sarah pass by with a fresh batch of folded laundry in hand. Salma quickly pulled back.

"Alley I told you I'm not asking unless Salma initiates the conversation," she said. Salma figured her mother had called Sarah and the phone was on speaker. "I don't pry on her personal matters. It's –"

"I know, I know!" her mother replied, sounding exhausted. "But we need to find out!"

Salma rolled her eyes, moving away from the door to stop eavesdropping.

"Good luck with that, mum," she muttered to herself.

Unless Salma got the courage to start talking about it, it seemed no one was going to do anything. Huffing, Salma decided go sit by their new 'usual' spot by another oak tree to wait for Sarah to show up.

***

Salma pretended to read. Well, she was not exactly pretending, she was definitely trying but her brains refused to accept the input.

Would she stay with him? Or would she leave?

What would Salma do if she went home and her mother asked directly now that Sarah was not helping her?

Salma searched her feelings as her eyes drifted away from the paragraph she was trying to read. She had no pressure anymore. Aunt Farhiya's life was no long endangered by her decision. Fahad was safe. The past week was the most relaxed her family had been in a long time. Sthooriya's politics was no longer affected by her personal decisions, and Agha Gul seemed to have calmed down. Rather, he was now forced to engage elsewhere. Salma was no longer his primary target. If she had to choose, she had to choose purely for herself. Was she going to stay with Zayn? Did she want to? Would she be happier without him?

As if hallucinating, she saw Zayn pass by on his way to the Administration Block with Niall. Salma watched his retreating back. Did he earn her trust?

"I see where your eyes have trailed," came Sarah's voice past her internal battle.

Salma blinked, squinting to see the figure. Wait, that was the real one? Salma had been quite certain she had imagined Zayn walking by.

"Why do you even pretend?" Sarah scoffed when Salma remained silent.

Salma glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "Pretend what?"

"That you don't want to be with him?" Sarah gave it to her straight.

Salma tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at those words. She looked away from the spot and drew in a deep breath, turning back to her reading.

"So mum called you," she asked nonchalantly.

"Maybe, but you know I'd ask you three days ago if it were for her that I was asking," Sarah replied.

Salma chewed on her inner lip, turning to her.

"I know," she replied with a sigh. "I'm not pretending. I'm just scared."

Sarah raised a questioning brow.

"Call me a coward, but I really don't know if I trust him . . . or myself," Salma added uneasily. "I mean I know he's been a wonderful person, and I don't doubt his sincerity but I'm scared. What if things go wrong? What if he hurts me again? What if I hurt him? Or he loses patience with me and eventually realizes he doesn't really like me anymore? It scares me. I hesitate to make a firm, confident decision. I just --"

Salma inhaled deeply. That was the problem, she realized. Not that no one was addressing the issue but the fact that she did not know what she wanted if it were addressed eventually. This indecisiveness was the reason she had not had the guts to go to her parents. She did not know her answer. Did she want him?

"I'm a mess." Salma huffed.

"You are," Sarah replied promptly.

"Thanks," Salma said sarcastically.

Sarah stayed quiet for a while. Salma waited. She could see the breakdown to her problem getting laid out neatly in Sarah's mind, about to be presented to her in small, easily digestible chunks.

"You're apprehensive," she began, as expected. Salma almost smiled. "As you should be," Sarah continued. "I'd be too, if I were you. I'd like to call you a coward but then I'd be lying. You've braved a second chance with him after the horrible way he treated you, simply because you have your heart in the right place and did not want to do him wrong. I don't know anyone else who would do that. People don't care for the feelings for those who've hurt them, but you did."

"Maybe because not many would go to the lengths Zayn did to prove he was sorry." Salma shrugged. "I can't take credit for that. He earned it."

"Even so," Sarah replied. "Many men have gone to greater lengths to prove themselves apologetic, only to turn out psychotic and sick."

"You're not helping his case," Salma laughed, shaking her head.

"You still gave him a chance when you didn't have to," Sarah continued. "And that's made you anxious of him ever since. You didn't trust him but you let him in. He's broken the pattern that we usually see in men who act like he did; controlling, demanding and well, just sick in the head. At the back of your head, you always feared he'd hurt you, and make you regret your decision. He proved your fears wrong, but now you're head adds 'so far'."

Salma said nothing. What Sarah said was true. She had gotten into a habit of fearing Zayn to stab her in the back and that dread seemed to have found a permanent residence in her heart.

"Who do you turn to when you're uncertain of the future?"

"Allah," Salma said automatically.

Salma knew it was wrong to cut it off with Zayn like that, especially after he had passed the testing period like she said she would judge him based on that, but she needed reassurance, some sort of a backing that he would stick to his good behaviour.

"Would you have an issue if your father expressed his trust in him?" Sarah asked when Salma stayed quiet for too long.

Salma thought about it.

"No," she said after a while. "No, I don't think so. I think dad had been especially on his case after last time. If Zayn has won him over, I'd trust his judgment."

"Pray an isthikhara and convey your concerns to him then," Sarah advised. "I think it would be best to hear your old man out and see what he thinks."

Salma nodded in understanding, feeling her stomach twist in an anxious knot. She dreaded the conversation with her parents, but then, she suddenly smiled when a thought occurred.

"Actually." She turned to Sarah with a smirk." I already did."

It took Sarah a while to realize Alley had given her the task to find out her daughter's unfiltered concerns. And upon that, she groaned in response.

***

Zayn was out with Niall and Claire. Since Salma's family problem seemed to have resolved, he suddenly had a lot of time on his hands. It was a problem. With his head filled with a void that he did not know how to handle, time was the one thing he did not want to have. He wanted to stay busy. To get distracted and not dwell upon the sudden nothingness that he felt. He was not exactly pained. He was just empty.

And so, he had started trying to fill the space of her absence in his day by Niall and Claire; taking them out for dinners, and shopping and games or just generally being a pest. Claire kept complaining about his constant, harmless presence around her.

"Why don't you go annoy Salma for change!" she had screamed once, chasing him out of the kitchen. She had clearly not liked the taste of the drink she had gulped into, after Zayn had switched her glass of coke with a glass of soya sauce when she was not looking. "God, I have a new-found respect for that girl. You're insufferable!" she kept complaining.

Zayn just smiled in his hiding spot. Claire might as well be right. Although he had been nipping it in the bud, hope kept raising its head every day, making him expect a call or a message from her. But he knew it. Salma was not going to let him in when given a choice. And he was fine with it. At least he knew he might have earned her forgiveness. Even if not, he could live with that. He knew he had tried to make it up to her and that was all he could do. Rest was up to her. He would never force her into anything anymore. It was her choice, to forgive him, to be with him, to love him or caste him out. He would accept it.

Later, in the evening, Zayn had offered to take Claire and Niall out.

"And why's that?" Claire snapped.

"I found out you don't like soya sauce." Zayn chuckled. "Perhaps you want to buy yourself another drink?"

"Get out of my room," she had replied trying not to smile. "I'll be down in five. Ask Niall if he wants to join."

"Sure." Zayn had shrugged.

He knew the two suspected something but was grateful that they accepted his weird behaviour and did not ask him to explain. May be they were just pleased he was not thrashing the place around and being generally unpleasant.

"Look I offered to restock your drinks supply, not buy half the stuff in the plaza!" Zayn complained as they walked on the side-walk with Claire's shopping. He held up his arms to show the bags.

"Stop exaggerating, it's just three dresses!" she returned.

"And two pairs of shoes," Niall provided.

"And a pair of shades, a belt and a bag," Zayn added. "Do you really think a pair of guys have patience for this?"

"Learn it!" Claire pointed a finger at him. "Every girl loves to shop and it only works if said shopping companion keeps his mouth shut! What's Salma going to do if you're going behave like that?"

Niall's glanced at Zayn in panic. Zayn just turned away from her, rolling his eyes.

"You might not have to worry about that," he grumbled under his breath, feeling his heart sink. Because of the fact that he might have to endure shopping with Salma, or that he might never have to do that, he could not tell.

"What's that?" Claire said sharply. "What did I hear –?"

She was cut short when a car stopped by them. A tall, well-built man in a dark tailored suit and shades approached them.

"Your transport is here, Mr. Harris," he said with respectful profressionalism.

The three  of them look at each other, confused. Zayn studied the man. Unfamiliar and dangerous was one way to describe him.

"You called a cab?" Claire voiced her confusion.

Toryal? . . . Derek? . . . Alex? . . . Burak? A series of names flitted past his mind as he kept his eyes trained on the mysterious man. Who had sent him?

Zayn figured something was wrong and he deemed it best to move the danger away from Niall and Claire. Quickly overcoming his discomfort, he nodded at his sister.

"Yeah, Sorry." He started giving Claire's shopping to Niall. "I forgot to mention it, I suppose."

"Here?" Niall asked, shrewdly.

"I'll catch up with you two soon." Zayn smiled, dodging the question. He followed after the suited-booted devil who held the door open for him.

"Who the hell are you and where are you taking me?" Zayn asked the moment the car took down the road.

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to answer," he replied. His voice was a tad familiar.

"Oh please!" Zayn rolled his eyes. "Alexandra needs to quit the drama!"

Letting out a breath, Zayn settled back into the seat and resorted to staring out of the window. He wondered what Alex wanted of him. She had never picked him up for meet-ups. She usually sneaked into his house like a pest.

Zayn realized they were heading towards the office blocks, where most of the buildings were taken up by businessmen setting up local branches. He was surprised Alex would have an office in a place like this. He was certain her local headquarters were set up in a building at the opposite end of the town.

Zayn scowled as he saw blackened windows creeping up to cover his view just as they were passing by a tall glass building.

"What's that?" he asked the man.

The man said nothing. He kept driving for another five minutes before the car came to a sudden halt. The driver stepped outside and opened the door for him.

"Mr. Harris, follow me, sir," he said, his voice echoing slightly.

Zayn looked around the strangely empty underground parking. There were only five or six other cars parked in a space that could have around fifty cars, at least.

Zayn followed the man into an elevator. After passing a couple of floors, the door slid open into a very lively space. Zayn stepped into a modernly decorated main hall and followed his guide straight past the reception area towards the elevators on the right. He unlocked the elevators, using his security card. Zayn rolled his eyes at all the fuss. Alex could have just called. It would have been much simpler.

Some fifteen or so floors above, down the corridor, up a short flight of steps, the man led Zayn towards the third door to his right.

"He's waiting for you inside."

Zayn nodded and reached for the door knob when it occurred to him

"Wait – he?!" Zayn asked, disconcerted. "He who?"

The man smirked, leaving without any answers. A very familiar, annoying smirk. He disappeared behind a door before Zayn could connect that smirk to a face in his memory.

What in the freaking world?

Swallowing his annoyance and nerves alike, Zayn squared his shoulders and twisted the knob, throwing the door wide open.

Whoever the hell was about to get their face reshapened!

"Apologies for the inconvenience," said a familiar but an extremely unexpected voice that froze to him to the spot. "Come on in. Take a seat."

Author's Note:

Oh dear, did we just slam into another cliffhanger?!😱

Y'all are so sweet lol. Who do you think did Zayn walk up to?

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J.