LUCENT

43

NADIRA

"That's insane," I say to Maryam as I move out of the camera frame to grab my hair band. I was on FaceTime with her as I straightened my hair. I had loosened and washed it after returning from the office. It was close to ten now, and Tayyib was still not home.  "Did you tell him it wasn't okay to do that?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "I do not want to come off as controlling," she answers, and I sigh.

"What's controlling about being uncomfortable with the way he acts around other girls? Listen, if you express your discomfort and he reacts negatively, you must dump him. There's no other way around it," I reply.

I put my hair into a low ponytail as she gushes about the guy's pros. "But that's his only problem. Apart from that, he's great. Attentive, sweet, funny and not -"

"Why'd you stop? Go on, I was listening," I say when she pauses abruptly. She points to something behind me, and I turn around to find Tayyib manspreading on an armchair. He smirks at me, and I scoff. "Just continue," I say, ignoring him.

She signs no with her fingers. "I'll call Hibba," she says, ending the call. I hiss and grab the phone off the phone stand to call her back. It may not have looked like it, but I was invested in the story.

"Nadira," Tayyib calls, and I roll my eyes. I turn my head slowly and raise a questioning brow. He taps his thigh wordlessly, and I roll my eyes again. He should check into a psyche ward if he thinks I'm going to run to him.

Brows furrowing gently, he tapped his thigh again. "I'm not coming," I say, folding my arms. Defeated, he stands up from the chair and walks over to me.

"Are you upset?" he asks, lifting my chin, and I glare at him. What does he think? That I'm doing this just cause? "I'm sorry," he says, leaning down to kiss me. I turn my face to the side, and he kisses my cheek instead.

He clucks his tongue and pinches my cheek. "I have ways to fix that attitude, you know," he says, and I scoff.

"Ijbol," I say out loud, and he stares in confusion.

"What?" he asks.

"Ijbol," I repeat, and he tilts his head to the side. "Oh, I forgot you were old. It means I just burst out laughing," I add.

He stares at me in amusement. "But you didn't burst out laughing?"

"You don't have to take it literally. It's the equivalent of saying lol out loud," I reply.

"Why say it if you're not actually going to do it?" he asks, and I facepalm.

"None of that matters. I don't want to talk to you," I respond.

He sighs and scoops me into his arms. "Put me down!" I yell as he walks over to the chair. He sits and places me in his lap. I attempt to stand, but his hand tightens around my hip. "Let me go. I don't want to sit on your lap," I complain, but he ignores me.

"You're upset because I asked you to go home?" he asks, and I hiss. I made the unfortunate mistake of making eye contact with him immediately after realising what I had done. He gives me a pointed look, and I quickly gaze down to the floor.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Answer my question," he replies, his soft tone now replaced with a stern one.

I knew I had no choice but to answer now. He was playing along and letting me air out my grievance, but I had fudged it."I'm upset because you went to work. We've been apart for two weeks, and you didn't even bother to wake me before you left in the morning. And then you kicked me out of your office," I say, and he sighs.