Basma likes Fendi

14 | Beauty Has Turned To The Beast

•Basma

"Are you going to start praying now?"

"Yes babe." He added, "I've started already."

"How about the brethren?"

The world was supposed to know about his affiliation to a cult but his money spoke and his voice overruled the tiny squeal of the numerous plaintiffs he had stumped on.

"I'm trying to leave. I've stopped attending meetings and speaking to them."

"How do you plan on leaving?"

"I'll go back one last time and tell them then whatever I'm asked to do, I'll do it to leave for good."

"That's good. If we're going to do this marriage, I want to be comfortable and be sure you're still treading on the path of Islam."

I knew the only way to keep him at ease was to play this pretence game but sometimes he got me so riled up that I couldn't respond to his romanticizing.

He was a smart man and he knew what I was doing but to beat a master of lies and deceit you have to become one yourself.

Three weeks and four days have gone by. I'm supposed to be at his house—my house, with my family—but I was still watching the sun rise and fall in my unappealing hospital gown—on the small yet comfortable bed.

Jameel has also turned the hospital to his second home since Dr Shamsudeen told him I had a panic attack one night that resulted in the increase of my blood pressure again.

Call me ungrateful but I didn't want or need Jameel here. If not for the circumstances, I wouldn't have approved of his visitation to my room.

He really expects me to marry him but the only thing he's marrying is the wall of his next prison cell. I was just playing him to get him to sign the papers his father had given me and I'd return to my former life.

I was bound to leave this place whether it was by my deception or forceful extraction by his father.

"Don't worry I've changed for good. Just allow me to show you." He smiled.

I mentally threw up at the mere sight of his happiness and regret to why I ever listened to Bashir to go on vacation. I should've been more careful. Ajman warned me, didn't he?

"I'm happy for you and us." I grinned, overly excited that he'd soon be dressed in prison wear and rotten, tattered underwear for the rest of his life.

He left his sit and made for the door as he blew me a despicable kiss and went out of the door, "Goodbye love, I'll bring your phone tonight." before leaving me to enjoy the solitude I had been lacking for a while now.

I sat upright and thought of ways to run out of the hospital before his return without getting caught by the staff.

I kept thinking, Ajman told me so, while I cursed Bashir, his family and their ancestors since he didn't have kids.

Dr Shamsudeen walked in with a Salam, a smile and a folder in his hands.

"How are you Mrs Jameel?"

"I'm good doctor. Are you here for another check up?"

"Yes." He took the stethoscope that was snaked around his neck and pressed it to my chest.

"Ok sir."

"Your heart beat is fine." He murmured, writing onto a page in the folder, "Your arm please."

He dropped the folder and wrapped a cotton like material to my arm and repeatedly squeezed a ball that was connected to it till it felt tight and as if blood couldn't pass through there.