Against The Tide (Formerly Two Tribes)

12: Like A Cakewalk

Afrah

Sitting in the backseat of the cab, Afrah reclined her head against the window; her thoughts revolving around Jameel. He was so happy when she reversed her decision. She wished she could be as happy as he was because it was also what she wanted, but the fact that Jameel already had a wife was a hindrance. Although Jameel had told her that he was literally living like siblings with his wife, Afrah still wasn't comfortable with having people refer to her husband as someone else's. Knowing just how possessive she was, she knew she would never be able to get used to it. She wasn't certain if being with Jameel was worth it all.

But albeit the uncertainty, she was delighted that she still had Jameel. Not even Najah could get in-between them. For a moment, Najah had made her doubt Jameel's love for her, but not anymore. He had proven to her that he wasn't capable of loving anyone else. Najah seemed so confident about her relationship with Jameel, Afrah wished she could see the look of defeat on Najah's face when the information gets to her. The urge to taunt her was gargantuan. It almost dominated her consideration.

The cab screeched to a halt, jolting Afrah from her trance.

She paid the cab driver his fare before alighting from the car and ambling towards her friend's apartment.

Just as she took out the keys from her bag and was about to unlock the door, she realized it was already open.

Panicked, she pushed open the door and dashed in. "Amal?"

"Yes?" Amal looked up from the screen of her laptop. "Am I safe?"

In relief, Afrah released she breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "I thought someone broke and entered the house."

Amal's eyes floated heavenward before focusing on Afrah. "If truly that was the case, did you intend to fight the burglar or what?" She asked with a shake of her head.

Afrah chuckled as she wondered how she intended to do that. "I panicked," she explained. "I didn't have time to think. I thought we got robbed. Why are you back so early?"

"I had a splitting headache. I was given a day off to visit a doctor."

"You've been working too hard," Afrah mused. "Sorry. Have you taken any pain reliever?"

"Yeah. I took paracetamol."

"You should be resting instead of-" Afrah peeped at her laptop screen. "Typing. How are you going to get better if you don't give your body the rest it deserves?"

"I feel much better now," Amal assured. "This gig was given to me a week ago. The deadline is tomorrow. I have to meet up. Besides, I'm almost done. Just about three thousand words remaining."

Afrah looked at her friend in admiration at how driven she was. Aside from being a teacher, she was also a freelancer. She was bent on proving to her mother that she could survive on her own. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Yeah," she replied, typing away on her laptop; not looking up. "I cooked spaghetti. You can help you-"

"No, thanks," Afrah cut her off and politely declined. "I have had breakfast."

That seemed to prickle Amal's interest. She looked up from her screen and eyed Afrah. "Outside?"

Afrah gave her shoulders a dainty little shrug. "Yes?"

"With whom?"

Afrah flashed a nervous smile at her friend and muttered, "Jameel."

Amal's eyes broadened. "Come again! Jameel?"

Afrah nodded. For some inexplicable reason, she felt she had done something grotesque.

Amal jumped up and threw her arms around Afrah for a few seconds. "So are you two going to get back together? When were you going to tell me? I should be mad at you."