Chapter Twenty-Eight
MUNIR SHUT THE DOOR TO his hotel room with a heavily distracted mind. Shoving off his shoes, he wandered aimlessly into the kitchenette, pulled open the fridge and took out a bottled water. He was already halfway through the bottle of water when a thought crossed his mind.
Choking on the water, he slapped a hand over his mouth as he remembered he was still fasting. "Subhanallahi," he spluttered, droplets of water raining on the front of his polo shirt.
With a sigh, he twisted the cap of the bottle back on then returned it into the refrigerator. He shut the refrigerator door but remained fixed in his place; letting his head droop until it came to rest on the cool aluminium body of the fridge and finally allowed himself to mull over the events of the past hour.
He had gone to visit Fatiha like he'd been doing since her auntie's accident. Normally they talked about how her auntie was faring, about Noor who had travelled to Bauchi, about what he would be doing once he passed all the interviews and bagged the lead architect position for the eco friendly hotel and resort, and some other light topic he couldn't seem to recall now. But today he had gone with hopes of talking to her about something else.
Sure, he would admit that a part of him had been wanting to talk about his feelings for her and about if there was any chance she felt the same way, but their relationship was still too new and fragile that regardless of how bad he wanted to know if he had a chance with her, he couldn't risk it by asking her if she liked him.
But she'd done it for him. Asked him if he had feelings for her then outright rejected him in the span of ten minutes. Who was she to tell him how he felt about her? Or tell him what he felt wasn't real? A blinding anger had heated his entire body that he had wanted badly to argue back but he had restrained himself. He hadn't gone there to fight. Truth be told, he wouldn't have felt this betrayed if he didn't think that she felt something for him too.
It was in the way she looked at him. The way she spoke to him. The way she relied on him without fully doing so. The way she laughed with ease now around him. The way she cried not because of him but because it felt safer to do so by his side.
He just needed to be certain about her feelings.
"Okay, then do you feel the same?"
The echo of the question he'd asked her resurfaced in his mind.
Munir remembered waiting with bated breath for her reply. His breathing had softened and his heartbeat thumped madly at the same time as she had stuttered, unable to produce an intelligible response. He could still feel his heart going wild at the recollection of what now seemed a past memory.
"You said it yourself." He had continued in a quip like he really didn't care what her answer was going to be.
But he had cared, he'd realised when she'd given him that single syllabic response. And he had been certain in every way about her feelings.
It had taken her a few seconds to reply and in that short period of time, Munir had been able to decipher every emotion that passed through her eyes. Reluctancy. Hope. Confusion. Desperation. Apprehension. An aching need. It had all swarmed together like a fast spinning thread and at last she had chosen what seemed to be the most appropriate answer. Denial. Only he'd seen how painful the answer was when she'd let herself utter the word No. He'd glimpsed the remorse in her eyes when he had bid her farewell. Or at least he'd hoped that that was what the look she had was.
He hoped she would regret saying no. That she would replay the moment over and over again and realise that she'd given the wrong answer. That there had been so many directions in which the conversation could have gone.
But who was he to blame her? He had told himself before heading out to meet her that if she did indeed claim she had no feelings for him, he'd take it like a champ. He would smile and walk away and pretend like nothing ever happened. And he'd done exactly that. Except now his heart ached.
He grunted as he pulled away from the refrigerator and stumbled back to the living room where he slumped face down on the couch.
Unlike Fatiha's extravagant hotel room and its magnificent view of Abuja metropolis, Munir's room had no view of Abuja and the interior lacked depth. Noor had booked the room for his three day stay at Abuja at the very last minute before her journey. She'd mumbled something about fate taking the reins. He hadn't understood what she'd meant until he found out she had booked him the same hotel her best friend was staying at.
His three days had elapsed and had become a week. He'd had to rebook the room because he didn't feel okay with leaving Fatiha alone to deal with the effect of her auntie's news.
The results of his interview had been a success. He alongside four other architects were going head-to-head for the position of lead architect for the eco friendly hotel and resort that was going to be the next biggest hotel after Eko Hotel in Nigeria. Billions of Naira were being put into the project and it was situated to be completed by twenty twenty-eight.
If he landed the job, he wouldn't just be an architect who protected the earth but it would also be a huge feat for him and his career. The hotel would be located in Abuja and welcome to foreigners, dignitaries, celebrities and anyone willing to spend lusciously. It was going to be a great source of revenue for the country. And it would be the starting point of Munir going national in his own country.
Munir hadn't exactly planned on staying back in Nigeria when he'd made plans to attend his friend's wedding, but then he had ran into Fatiha. At first he had been surprised and shocked and pleased and a whole bunch of other emotions to see her familiar face, but he'd realised later that his reappearance wasn't really welcomed by her. They'd fought, argued, hurt each other with their words, and had ended up reconciling all in the length of the two months since his return home.
Today she'd forgiven him and given him a reason to stay back, but there was no reason to do so anymore.
Munir jerked himself into a sitting position on the couch then pulled the laptop laying on the small coffee table towards him and readied himself to type down his regrets for no longer being able to go on with the interview.
Fatiha had been happy for him about the results. He would have been too if his heart hadn't been too busy shattering away in his chest like glass on asphalt and unable to comprehend any other emotions.
"What is the need now?" he asked, the question going unanswered in the silent confines of his room.
She didn't like him and had made it very clear in a single word. It would be awkward for them to keep running into each other if he decided to remain in Nigeria. He could go to another state, he mused, but he knew from experience that fate was indeed a thing and there was every chance they could bump into each other. The best solution was for him to go back where he came from. Besides, that had always been the original plan. He had never intended on returning to Nigeria or getting sidetracked and falling in love with his sister's best friend.
It came to him in a rush of epiphany; the reason why he had stayed back for so long, prolonging his journey back to Turkey. His break was over now and he had his team back in Istanbul waiting for him. Whatever it was he'd had with Fatiha or envisioned having with her ended here.
"We should never have gone to that suya joint back then," he mumbled, his fingers flying over the keys of his system as he drafted his letter.
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