Enwrapped

Chapter 12

"Kya haal hain, saaheb? Jab se shaadi huwi hai aap to gaayab hi ho gaye hain!"

Muzammil scowled as soon as he picked up the call. "Tum log bhi to aisay hi ho! Ghar aur office se fursat kahaan milti hai tumhay?"

"Achha, koi nahin na, chal aaj match dekhnay chaltay hain. Subb ne haan kar di hai, buss tu hi bacha hai."

He loosened his tie, silently contemplating, then mumbled, "Theek hai, aata houn."

As the call disconnected, he went back to his call log and dialled Saboor's number. It buzzed and buzzed, but there was no response on the other end. Sighing, he typed a message in their chat.

Muzammil: Hey Darling, just wanted to let you know I'll be out with the guys tonight. Might stay out a bit late, but I'll be thinking of you the whole time. Try not to miss me. 💕

His eyes fell onto the wallpaper he had set on both their phones. The picture had captured Saboor in rare, unbridled laughter, as Muzammil attacked her with kisses and tickles. It brought a smile to his face.

Right then, an incoming call notification popped up on the screen, causing him to make a face.

"Aa raha houn na! Kitni baar phone karega?"

~

Saboor leisurely sat on the sofa couch by the window, skimming pages of her latest book as she read it, but today, she wasn't really interested in reading as such. Occasionally, she glanced at the window, peering at the porch, hoping to see her husband's car, but...nothing.

"Didn't he come yet?" Israa asked, her question almost startling Saboor. She looked up at her mother-in-law and shook her head.

"Koi baat nahin. He must have gone out with his friends. When he does, he comes home pretty late. You go to sleep, bacchay," she said, gently patting Saboor's shoulder. Saboor switched on her phone and peeked once again.

No call or message, too?

~

Saboor pushed the covers away from her chest and sat up in the bed. She glanced at the French windows, and the curtains that swayed along the winds that came in. The moon was high up in the sky, and very few clouds passed by, blocking its light. The chilling breeze traipsed throughout the room, forcing Saboor to grab a shawl and wrap it around her shoulders. The blanket gathered at her lower body.

She turned back at the wall clock and looked at the time. 1 a.m.

Climbing out of the covers, she stood up and gathered her shawl closer to herself. She put on her slippers, another precaution against the winter, and walked to the dresser. Picking up her phone, she unlocked it and placed it against her ear.

No answer.

Saboor lazily traced back her steps and sat on the edge of the bed. She thought, whom was he so engrossed with that he didn't have the liberty to come home and sleep? Or, did something else happen?

"Let's not think about all that," she muttered, and mumbling some prayers, she went back under the covers. But sleep was not to come.

Because the mister was not home yet.

~

"Come on now, I've got to go," said Nabeel, groaning as he stood up. "If I don't reach home now, I might as be left homeless!" he exclaimed, making the others laugh.

"Wife's got a hold on you, huh?" questioned another friend, getting up himself. As was the norm in their circle, they always shared the bill, and so they shoved a note each in the leather booklet. Muzammil rose up too, pulling out his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it, only to see that there were some seven missed calls from his wife, and another dozen from the home landline.