However it goes, it ends in pain.

Chapter 2

My week of pretending like whatever was growing between me and Usman isn't going to end in shambles ends, and Amira is very excited to have the unexciting conversation.

'A,why are you so red' Amira asks.

'What do you mean red?' I ask her as I run to my mirror to check my face.

'I can't see anything.' I look back at the camera. 'ohhh, it's the snapchat filter'

'A week is gone Amra.'

'I know.'

'So?' Amira tries to get the conversation started.

'I spoke to his mom.' I blurt out quietly.

'What?' Amira screams. 'When?' when I stay silent she sits up and calls my name 'Amra!'

'On Friday.' I say to her, as the memory of speaking with Usman's mother resurfaces, her dark thin lips, long lashes, and big almond eyes coming to mind. The way her hair fought against her headscarf, peaking from different angles. And her nose, the nose of Usman, the nose I know to well. I'd fallen more in love with Usman, when I saw his nose on one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. She is gorgeous.

'And you're just telling me now. You wouldn't have told me if it wasn't to avoid this conversation, right? We'll come back to you and Usman, but O my god! You actually spoke to Umna.'

I smiled, as if only realizing it. 'Yes, yes I did.'

'Wait, how, why? Tell me everything.'

By the time I've narrated the whole story to Amira, I've repeated some things countless times and she's squealing. I try hard to stop my lip from curving because my cheeks hurt from intense blushing, and I don't want Amira to see how much it means to me.

'Babe, I am excited for you and all, but this is only making things messier.' While Hamma (Habeel) and I have learnt to ignore certain parts of my life, Amira doesn't work like that.

'I know.'

'You aren't talking about it; you just keep saying I know.'

'What do you want me to say Amira, that I know I'm going to break Usman's heart, that this is going to end up messing up our friend group, that I'll wish I never met him, and he'll wish he never met me, that I don't want to want him as much as I do, but I want him regardless and I am selfish for trying to have that, for choosing to lead him on and then break things off, that involving Umna is going to make this more heart breaking? Is that what you want to hear?

I have to do it, because you saw what happened the last time, I let a man know I loved him. You watched me break, and hurt, and want to die, you watched me sabotage myself, you watched me fall ill over and over again, as if my body was succumbing to the illnesses in me because it no longer had the will to live, you watched me loose myself, slowly slipping away, like I had nothing else to live for, you saw me. I don't think you want to watch me do that again, at least I don't want that again.'

'Amra. I'm already watching you do that; I'm already watching you sabotage yourself because of fear. I am watching you choose to cut off a man who loves you because you are scared of what's going to happen if he stays long enough to know how deeply you feel for him...' I don't let her finish; I don't let her tell me that I am a coward.

'Amira, at least this pain, this time, whatever happens, I am responsible. I don't want to feel like a fool again, I don't want to be at the mercy of a man, I don't want to wait for a text from someone who probably saw my messages but decided I could wait a little longer, someone who said they 'loved' me, just to keep me dotting on them. I'm really not ready to be a slave to a man again, I'm not going to be a fool again, I don't care what you say about fear and sabotage; because you and I know that a woman in love is blind, and a man who knows she's blind will only lead her to ruins, regardless of whether he wants to or not.'

'No. No. Amra.' She says shaking her head. 'You don't get to let Ahmad have the power to stop you from being in love, Usman makes you so happy, and he respects you, and yes, he's damaged, but aren't we all? He's beautiful and you, you're beautiful, and you complement each other, you make these comments and jokes about staying away from love, but I know you, Amra, have you imagined your life without love? Have you imagined a life without those forehead kisses you giggle at in your books, the cuddles, the hugs, the large arm around your waist, the chasing around the house, playful banter, pillow fights, cooking together, sunsets together, do you want a man who doesn't comfort you when the book you're reading absolutely shatters your heart, a man who doesn't know that you hold battle scars, a man who doesn't pay attention to every little detail, who gets you flowers, and  Bakhoor because he know you're absolutely obsessed with them, who gives you hand written love notes, the list goes on Amra, I can go on and on about the things Usman can give you, that you can't get outside love.' She sighs. 'Love Amra, Usman loves you.'

'Can. Amira, the things he can give me, and what if he doesn't, what if he doesn't actually love me, or what if he does, but the fear of pain, of being at my mercy is greater than his love for me, he decides to sabotage what we have?' I whisper 'Can. You don't know that he will give all that to me.'

'But you are doing that already. You are being a coward. You let your pain from Ahmad slip through the cracks of your scars and contaminate the muscle of your heart, you let this affect the most beautiful thing you have.'

At this statement, I get angry, and I for a while I just stare at her. My heart is beating faster, and I'm loosing focus of her face, it starts to dawn on me that she's right.
But she can't be right...

So I let anger consume me, instead of defeat and yell through the phone to my best friend
'I am the most beautiful thing I have! No one can care for my heart the way I care for it; we are all dispensable, all of us, to everyone, to anyone, at any moment. To ask me to give my heart away after I healed it, is asking me to commit to suicide.'

Amira looks at me a minute too long. 'Your heart is not healed. And your head is not clear. Good night Amra.'

And then my best friend disappears from my screen, along with comfort and warmth.

Amira and I don't end calls.

Not like this.

...

A part of me feels angry at Amira, for getting mad at me for saying the truth, the other part knows I've hurt her through my words, what I've said that is so awful, I don't know.

I plug my phone into my charger and get out of my multicolored bou-bou dress. It's only 7pm and I feel entirely drained.

I put my phone on DND, make wudu and pray. By 8:30 pm, my entire night time routine of overthinking, skincare and prepping for the next day is done. I fall asleep reading a chapter of 'Things we left behind' by Lucy Score. Ironic.

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I decided to put this out today because I like drama and the last chapter had just a bit of it.

Do you think Amira was right to be upset? Why do you think they both got upset?

And who is team Amira, and team Amra?

Let me know how you liked this chapter.

Also I'll be updating weekly In Sha Allah.

Nafisah.