THE NARCISSIST'S WIFE

Chapter Seven : Guileful?

Assalam Alaikum all! How did the Eid celebration go? May Allah accept our Ibadats. Ameen. 💕💕💕💕

Hmmm! Do you think Sharif was being truthful about Ya Balu?  😀🤔😀
Share your thoughts in the comment section, please.

As they drove home, Sharif's phone rang. Upon seeing the caller ID, he grinned at and picked the call without saying a word to Zahra.

"Naz, Naz! So, what is the secret behind me crossing your mind tonight?"

Silence.

"Hmm. Well done then. It's been a while'."

Pause.

"Madam is fine. She is right here with me."

Laughter.

"Not now. So, how's Lagos. How are things with you?"

Pause.

"Wow! That is wonderful, congratulations! You mean this Wednesday?"

Pause.

"Okay, see you then. I will pick you up at the airport, officer."

Pause.

"Alright, goodbye. We will talk, I am driving and about to approach a check point now."

He paused before he hung up.

As they approached the police check point on Conakry street, Zahra unconsciously noted that the same faces – same black uniforms – saluted Sharif every time they drove past them at that hour of the night. Perhaps he got that respect because he made it a habit to always fling some N500 mints at them, smiling cheerfully at the 'officers'. With this gesture, even if Sharif carried a dead body none of them would know.

They always waived at Zahra addressing her as 'madam', but her husband had strictly warned her not to speak with any male stranger. So, she always felt guilty, wondering if they thought her too proud. It would later dawn on her that everyone she couldn't respond to their greetings understood quite well that she didn't do it on her volition.

"It was Mahmud Nazir." He informed her as if she was not the one sitting beside him on the next seat while he received the phone call.

"Okay." Zahra answered as though she didn't hear their conversation.

He enjoyed it when Zahra would cease to exist by not paying an iota of attention to him or what he did when he wanted her to do just that. She only responded when she was spoken to and only paid attention when he required her to.

"He is coming back next month, Insha Allah."

"Masha Allah." Was all she said. When it came to Naz, Zahra would rather say as little as possible. He forbade her from calling him Naz; Naz was just too informal, he was not her friend, he explained to her pulling one of his ears. Ever since then she took her time and chose her words carefully before she spoke about Mahmud Nazir.

"He is done with the course." He added, obviously pleased at whatever course he was studying in Lagos.

"Okay. That's great." She simply said.

Mahmud Nazir was one of Sharif's best and closest friends- 'one of' because he didn't belong to Sharif's caste. Sharif had other set of best and close friends from his caste with whom he wined and dined. Regardless, Naz, was the only friend of his, whom he had ever given Zahra's contact to, before their wedding. He called and greeted occasionally.

He was his most trusted ally. It seemed to Zahra that he trusted Naz more than he trusted himself. It was akin to a giggling baby whose confidence in the adult grows every time he is thrown in the air.