Ties That Bind

EP14

Zara walked through the hallway, her fingers mindlessly scrolling through Instagram as she headed towards Kabir’s room. The evening had been long, with her meeting Amira and successfully getting her word that she would help organize the meeting with her father, Alhaji Faruk Jeji.

Amira had been warm and accommodating, much to Zara’s surprise. They had met at a chic restaurant downtown, and after the pleasantries and small talk, Zara had gotten straight to the point. Amira had agreed to help her out, assuring Zara that she would speak to her father the very next day. Zara had left the meeting feeling like she had accomplished something major for Kabir, but that feeling of satisfaction evaporated the moment she came across a particular post on Instagram.

It was a post on one of the country’s most notorious gossip blogs, a place where scandals about the rich and powerful circulated like wildfire. Zara couldn’t believe her eyes as she stared at the screen of her phone. Her name was splashed across the headline: “ZARA AHMAD: Politician’s Wife or Power-Hungry Manipulator?” The article went on to speculate about her marriage to Kabir, suggesting that their relationship was just a facade, a contract arranged for political gain. It painted her as a cold, ambitious woman, willing to do anything to climb the social ladder.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t naive—she kinda knew politics could get messy, but this was her first taste of being dragged into a public scandal. Even with her sometimes abrasive attitude, she had always managed to avoid such things. She never expected to find herself the subject of a vicious smear campaign.

As she reached Kabir’s room, Zara pushed the door open without knocking, her mind too clouded with shock and frustration to think about decorum. She walked in and froze. Kabir was shirtless, his toned body casually sprawled on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black joggers.

"Try to be covering yourself up, abeg," Zara said, quickly covering her eyes with her right hand.

Kabir didn’t even flinch. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, unimpressed by her modesty. “Try to knock before entering any room that isn’t yours,” he retorted calmly, lifting his glass of dark liquid to his lips. “I can dress anyhow I want. As long as it’s MY room.”

Zara, still covering her face, frowned. “Fine, just put a shirt on.”

“No,” Kabir replied, his voice carrying an air of defiance. “If you can’t say what you want while I’m like this, then you aren’t ready.” He took another sip of the liquid in his glass, completely unbothered by her presence.

Zara hesitated for a moment, before slowly lowering her hand from her face. She grimaced, but her eyes couldn’t help but briefly admire his physique. Ugh, why does he have to look like that? she thought, irritated at herself for even noticing. But her attention quickly shifted to the glass in his hand.

“Is that alcohol?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Yeah,” Kabir replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Zara’s eyes widened in shock. “You drink? Subhanallah,” she exclaimed, shaking her head in disapproval. She had known Kabir to be indifferent, but drinking alcohol? That was a step too far. “You’re a Muslim!” she continued, aghast.

Kabir merely shrugged. “And?”

Zara let out a sigh of frustration. She could feel her patience wearing thin, but she decided to push the matter aside for now. This wasn’t the time for religious debates, not when there was something far more urgent to deal with. She pulled out her phone, turning the screen towards him. “See this,” she said, her tone sharp and direct.

Kabir glanced at her phone, reading the headline and skimming through the post. His expression remained unchanged, unphased by what he was seeing. “Wow,” he muttered, leaning back slightly. “They’re at it.”

Zara blinked in disbelief. “Who are ‘they’?” she asked, her voice rising. “You’re being very nonchalant about this! Like it’s the most common thing in the world!”

Kabir placed the glass down on the side drawer, unfazed by her outburst. “You’re in politics now,” he said flatly. “Expect things like this, and more.”

Zara’s mouth dropped open. “What?!” she exclaimed, her frustration boiling over. How could he be so calm about this? Did he not realize the gravity of the situation?

Kabir continued, his tone still casual. “It’s not like I won’t do anything about it. Of course, we’ll address it. But you need to understand—this is just the beginning. There’ll be more scandals, more rumors, more lies. It comes with the territory.”

Zara shook her head, unable to comprehend his lack of urgency. “So you’re just going to sit there and let them drag my name through the mud? Our name? This could affect us, Kabir! Our image, your campaign!”

Kabir finally looked her in the eye, his expression hardening just slightly. “Of course, I won’t let it slide. But you need to learn how to deal with these things. This won’t be the last time something like this happens. You’ll be in the public eye now. They’ll pick at every little thing you do, every word you say. Welcome to politics.”

Zara was silent for a moment, absorbing his words. She knew Kabir was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Her life, which had once been relatively private, was now a spectacle for the world to critique. And it was only going to get worse.

“Fine,” she muttered, her voice tight with frustration. “If this is how it’s going to be, I’ll fight back. I won’t let them walk all over me.”

Kabir gave her a long, measured look, his lips curling into a small, almost approving smile. “Good. That’s the spirit.”

Kabir leaned back slightly, arms crossed, as he looked at Zara with a casual expression. “By the way, there’s a family dinner tonight at my dad’s house.”

Zara blinked and looked at him incredulously. “What? Why am I just hearing about this now?” Her voice held a note of irritation. “I’m exhausted, Kabir. You could have told me earlier, like in the morning.”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “I was waiting for you to come back from your meeting with Amira.”

Zara raised an eyebrow. “You were waiting for me? Couldn’t you have just called or texted? You know, like a normal person?”

Kabir’s lips curled into a lazy smirk. “I didn’t feel like it.”

She threw her head back in frustration, her hand coming up to cover her face as she sighed deeply. “Grown man with the brain of a kid,” she muttered under her breath.

He chuckled, barely audible. “Takes one to know one.”

Zara’s head snapped back up, a tired frown pulling at her features. She was genuinely exhausted. “Kabir, I’m serious. I’m too tired to deal with your dad and everyone tonight. Can’t you come up with an excuse? Tell them I’m sick or something.”

Kabir’s expression hardened a little, his playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “No, I won’t do that. If my dad specifically asked for you to be there, then you have to be there. It’s important.”

Zara groaned internally, the weariness settling even deeper into her bones. “It wasn’t in the contract,” she muttered, crossing her arms stubbornly.

Kabir gave her a pointed look, his expression saying seriously? “Twenty minutes,” he said, his voice final. “Be ready.”

Zara didn’t respond, not trusting herself to say something she might regret. She just turned and walked out of his room, her mind already dreading the dinner that lay ahead.