Hidden bonds of love

4.

Ahmad's tranquil walk home from the mosque was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He bid farewell to his companion and retrieved the phone from his pocket. As he glanced at the screen, he noticed that it was his stepmother calling, Mrs Fatima. Although his smile suggested contentment, it was merely his default response to any situation, concealing the true emotions within.

"Hello, Kitty. Have you finally found the time to call me back? I have been calling you but no respond" Ahmad greeted playfully, placing the phone against his ear.

Mrs. Fatima's voice seethed with anger as she demanded, "Where is my daughter?"

Ahmad, unfazed by her fury, responded calmly, "At least let's exchange greetings before inquiring about your daughter," he retorted while opening the small gate to enter the house.

If Mrs. Fatima could see Ahmad in person, her rage might have driven her to slap him for taking her daughter without permission. However, Ahmad remained undisturbed, maintaining his smile as he listened to her tirade.

"Listen, I want my daughter back home, no matter how late it is. Understand?" Mrs. Fatima declared before abruptly ending the call, leaving Ahmad staring at his phone with a sigh. He entered the house, where everyone was gathered at the dining table. As he joined them, he observed that they were all enjoying a meal. Mommy Beauty informed her husband, Uthman, that Maryam had prepared his favorite snacks.

Uthman smiled warmly and expressed his eagerness to taste Maryam's culinary creations, knowing they would always be delicious. Maryam felt a surge of joy and excitement, grateful that her father still loved her despite their living arrangements.

Suddenly, Mustabshira dropped her spoon in annoyance, displaying her displeasure in a rather rude manner. The entire family's attention shifted towards her, questioning what was bothering her.

"What is she even doing here? I'm so annoyed that you came. Please, my dad and your mom are not together, so I think you shouldn't be here," Mustabshira angrily exclaimed.

"Mustab, what is wrong with you?" her father interjected, raising his voice.

"Daddy, she is just so annoying. She is intruding on our peaceful family. Who knows if her mother sent her here to destroy our family as she destroys hers?" Mustabshira blurted out without concern for the hurtful words she uttered. She took a sip of her drink and added, "I can't even eat when she is here. She makes me feel irritated."

Mommy Beauty's eyes flashed with anger as she reprimanded Mustabshira, her voice cutting through the air, "Mustab, keep your mouth shut! What kind of insult is this? If you don't keep quiet, I will slap the hell out of you."

Ahmad was deeply perturbed by Mustabshira's behavior, but he maintained his composure, realizing that engaging with her at that moment would achieve nothing but escalate the situation and cause further harm to Maryam.

"I'm so sorry, Mustabshira, It has been a long time since I welcomed Daddy back, and that's why I came today. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," Maryam apologized as she rose from her dining chair. "I'll just leave. You can't enjoy your meal with me around."

"No, Maryam darling, you don't need to go. Stay and finish your food," Mommy Beauty pleaded, her voice tinged with sadness.

Maryam smiled warmly, assuring mommy beauty that everything was fine, before excusing herself to retrieve her school bag and uniform from her room. As she emerged from her room, she asked Ahmad to take her home, bidding farewell to the unhappy family gathered at the table.

Inside the car, silence enveloped everyone as unspoken thoughts weighed heavily on their minds. Ahmad could sense that Maryam was deeply hurt, but she pretended to be unaffected by Mustabshira's hurtful words. The night air grew cooler, and the impending rain seemed to cast a somber atmosphere. Maryam rolled down the car window, seeking solace in the refreshing breeze. Resting her head on the car seat, her gaze fixed outside, she yearned for a moment of solitude.

Ahmad longed to talk to her, yet he knew her response would be that she was fine. Deciding to make a brief stop, he parked the car near a shop. Maryam didn't question the reason behind the pause. Ahmad left the car and entered the shop.

All Maryam desired was some time alone in her room. A few minutes later, Ahmad returned to the car, holding a pack of cheeseballs, her favorite snack. Placing it on the back seat, he refrained from mentioning his acquisition. Upon arriving home, the gate swung open, and the gateman greeted them. Ahmad parked the car, and both of them stepped out. He retrieved the pack of cheeseballs and handed it to Maryam.

At the sight of the cheeseballs, a beautiful smile graced Maryam's face, soothing Ahmad's troubled mind. It was the smile he had yearned to see on his little sister's face. Expressing her gratitude for the thoughtful gift, Maryam assured him that she would let go of Mustabshira's hurtful remarks. She nodded her head, silently communicating her agreement.

Together, they approached the door, where Mrs. Fatima awaited them, her expression laced with anger. The room fell silent as no one uttered a word. Maryam greeted her mother, her gaze averted, and proceeded to sit on the couch without awaiting a response to her greeting. Mrs. Fatima, equally unresponsive, kept her arms folded.

"How dare you take my daughter without informing me?" Mrs. Fatima voiced, her arms crossed tightly.

Ahmad glanced at Maryam, observing her lack of attention toward their conversation, precisely what he intended.

"Kitty, I have brought back your daughter safely, and I even brought her favorite cheeseballs," Ahmad replied lightheartedly, attempting to diffuse the tension.

"I think I asked you a question, didn't I?" Mrs. Fatima retorted, her expression devoid of any humor.

Ahmad let out a soft sigh, his gaze shifting away from Mrs. Fatima towards the flower beautifully arranged on the dining table. As he turned his attention back to Mrs. Fatima, he could sense her anticipation, knowing that he wouldn't answer her questions directly. With a smile on his lips, he lowered his voice to ensure Maryam wouldn't overhear their conversation.

"Listen, Mrs. Fatima, the reason I'm being nice to you is because of Maryam. Her night didn't go well, and I don't want to add to her troubles. But let me be clear, I don't need your permission to see my sister," he said calmly, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

Mrs. Fatima, though calm in her tone, was still upset. She shifted her gaze to Maryam, whose mind seemed distant and detached from their discussion. She gently approached her daughter, her concern evident, and asked, "Baby girl, please tell me what happened. Did Ahmad's mother hurt you?"

Maryam glanced at her mother, seemingly reluctant to speak. After a brief pause, she responded in a calm and emotionless tone, "Mommy, can I just go to my room and sleep? I'm not in the mood for any discussion right now." Her words revealed her emotional exhaustion, the weight of her experiences weighing heavily on her.

Maryam shifted her gaze away from her mother and directed it towards the switched-off television. Mrs. Fatima, perplexed and worried, moved closer to her daughter, studying her face intently. Without saying a word, she turned to Ahmad and shot him a stern glance that silently commanded him to leave her house.

Understanding the unspoken message, Ahmad bid farewell to Maryam, casting one last smile in Mrs. Fatima's direction before leaving the premises.

Maryam, refusing to utter a word, stood up and carried her school bag along with the cheese balls her brother had brought for her. She ascended the stairs to her room, her mother's watchful eyes fixed upon her.

As she entered her room, a profound ache engulfed Maryam's heart. She couldn't help but feel the pain of not having a proper dinner with her father due to Mustabshira's presence. Tiny tears welled up in her eyes as she replayed the scene in her mind—Mustabshira hugging her dad, receiving his love, while she felt left out. Lying down on her bed, she couldn't shake off the memory of her father's mild response to Mustabshira's actions, not reprimanding her for insulting and calling her "irritating."

What hurt Maryam the most was her own sister referring to her as "irritating." Lying on the left side of her bed, contemplating the situation, she found herself unable to shed tears. Sleep gradually embraced her, taking her away from her thoughts and worries.