The Year of You (on hold)

chapter 8

I hurry into the room, and lock the door shut behind me.

"NABEEL!" I shreik in a whisper. "WAKE UP!"

As I move in closer to the bed I find that it's empty. Oh no. No way. They took him. It's imposible, it's - My thoughts are cut off when I hear a sound in the bathroom, followed by swear words cutting through in a low voice. Oh my god, I thought. They're holding him hostage in the bathroom. How did they even get up here? I push all my thoughts aside, and look for the heaviest object in the room. I spot a small stool near the coffe table on the other side of the room. Rushing to pick it up, I realize how heavy it actually is. It's at least half my weight. Grunting, I make tremendous efforts to lift it and finally, I do. Unsteadily, I begin to walk towards the bathroom.

I open the door. I'm unbalanced and ready to swing the stool at whatever or whoever is before me, but I stand there staring, confused for a whole minute.

"NABEEL? Oh my god, where are they?" I ask, dropping the stool and sighing with relief. I rush to his side and help him up.

"Where are who? Are you alright?" He asks me, dumbstruck.

"The two m-men, they came in ask-king for you. Oh my god I thought they had you." I throw my arms around him, crying and shaking. He holds me for a moment, then pushes me away.

"Muneerah, wait, you're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"Nabeel is evidently confused.

"Oh my, that means they're still downstairs. Something's not right. Come quick Nabeel, there's two men waiting for you downstairs." I say, looking up at him.

His eyes immediately close off and he goes business mode "Alright. I'll go talk to them. You stay up here. No matter what don't come down until I say so. Remember what I told you about interfering. Stay out of it." He says, shutting me out again.

He pushes past me and limps out of the bathroom. A tear gathered in my eye, and streamed down my face. You're still weak! I wanted to scream. You still need me! I couldn't get the words past my throat. I slump down on the bathroom wall, fearing Nabeel will never let me in. All those moments were just time spent for him. Maybe even time wasted. Why can't he just accept me? Why doesn't he let me in? I ask myself, looking for the answer as thought it'd be written on my skin. I draw my knees in closer to my face and put my head in my arms. My sobbing gets loud and it's all I can hear. Then I stop myself, and listen. My sobbing is all I can hear! I get up and dry my tears on my shirt. Exiting the bathroom, I stand by the bedroom door, listening for any sound. Nothing at all. Then I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and I run back into the bathroom, and shut the door and lock it.

I could hear the bedroom door fling open and "MUNEERAH!" Nabeel sounds angry.

Confused, I peer through the wedge of the door which I slightly opened, and see an overly upset looking Nabeel standing in the bedroom doorway. I open the door fully and walk out towards him. "Are they gone?" I ask, peeking over his shoulder. "Is who gone Muneerah? Your imagination?" He asks coldly. I stare at him blankly, and blink. "What are you talking about?" He lets out an exasperated sigh. "NO ONE WAS DOWNSTAIRS." He raises his voice and my bottom lip quivers. "No, don't you start crying." He says in annoyance.

"I'm not," I say. "But they were downstairs, believe me! I told them to sit in the sitting room downstairs. Wallahi* I'm-" I desperately try to explain myself, but Nabeel cuts me off. "Just shut up. And get out of my face. Just get out."

My face turns red and my mouth drops open. My hand goes to my lips, covering my confusion. No one has ever spoken to me that way. I wish it were easier for me to retort instantly, but I was so shocked I just did as I was told. "Fine." I said quietly, as I stormed my way out, slamming the door shut behind me. I stomp down the stairs, remembering I still had dinner to eat. "I don't even care," I mumbled to myself. "Be a sour prune, I don't even care." I said, ignoring the tears streaming down my face. "More food for me." I reach the kitchen and start to take plates out for myself. I climbed onto the kitchen counter to reach the cabinet, so when I did pick up a plate, I lost my balance and fell to the floor, hitting my shoulder on the the floor, and the plate shattering on my hand. "MUMMY!" I yell. I feel a sharp pain in my right shoulder and instantly grab it with my left hand, when I see blood. "YA ALLAH!" I scream again. I'm dying, I'm dying, I'm dying. I think. I brace myself and try to hold my left hand with my right hand, but pain shoots through my whole right arm. "Oh my god," I whimper, "I'm going to die." I shut my eyes and begin to sob and Nabeel's voice interrupts my sobbing. "What on earth are you doing?" He says sternly, standing in the kitchen doorway. I want to sink in his arms but I remember him kicking me out of his room and look the other way. "Nothing," I say. "Just stay out of it." My lip trembles and I can't take the pain.

I feel Nabeel crouching down beside me, and he takes my right hand to examine it. I try and pull away. "OWWW!" I remember that my right arm is injured. "Stop Muneerah, let me see." Nabeel says. I let him take my right hand and look away as he inspects my arm letting out an annoyed breath. "Its my shoulder," I say, my voice cracking. "It hurts." I whine. He pushes my hair back and puts his hand near the neck of my shirt. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I yell. He freezes and stares at me. "Could you stop yelling?! I need to look at your shoulder." He says. "Nope no no, you can't. I can't let you do that nope." I say, sputtering. "Do you want the pain to go away?" He asks. "Besides I'm your husband, I'm allowed." He says seriously, but he also sounds flirty. "Can you make it stop bleeding first?" I say, ushering my head towards my hand. I can't meet his eyes. He nods, and gets up to go get a first aid kit. He's back as soon as he left and very carefully, with one hand, he cleans the cut on my left hand and covers it with a Band-Aid. "It's not too bad, the bleeding made it seem worse." He says, wrapping that up. Again, he proceeds in pushing my unruly hair out of the way and sliding his good hand down my shirt. I grab his hand, with my bandaged hand, clutching it and making him freeze."Please don't take long," I whisper.

He chuckles silently, and pulls my shirt down, exposing my shoulder, and 1/4 of my right arm. I look away as I can feel my face heating up. He presses a finger onto my acromion (the bone that's right on top of your shoulder), and asks me if it hurts. Still not looking at him, I nod. I freeze as his hand inches down to my shoulder blade, on my back. I shut my eyes and again, he asks me if it hurts. I shake my head no and he goes back to my arm. He presses the skin around my arcromion. "You're turning purple Muneerah." Nabeel says, quietly, noticing that I stopped breathing. I let out a breath and he presses my clavicle (collar bone). Goosebumps rise on my skin as his warm fingers gently press upon my skin. I try my hardest to focus on the pain but it's numbing out with his touch. Ya Allah, I think, what is he doing to me? Nabeel is no longer touching me. Instead he turns his focus to me, I feel his gaze as it wanders up my arm, my neck, setting on my face. I make the irrevocable mistake of turning to face him. Almost instantly his eyes meet mine and I almost melt into him. I look away, then look back but he is still concentrated on my face. Look away I say in my mind. Don't, a small voice says also. I turn to my arm and realize that it's already bruising. And I notice Nabeel is still clutching my exposed arm. I clear my throat as my palms get sweaty. "Nabeel," I shakily whisper. "It's bruised." "What?" He says snapping out of it. He looks at my arm and he recognizes what I'm speaking of. I notice a pinkish hue to his face as he double takes and realizes my arm is half bare, making me shy under his gaze again. I look away as he clears his throat and pulls my shirt up. "We need to put some DeepHeat on it or something. Best to do it when you're going to bed." He puts his good arm on the counter and hoists himself up. Almost immediately I remember the situation before that awkward moment and ignore his hand when he tries to help me up.

I retrieve the little stepping stool I kept in the kitchen for when I can't reach the cabinents and get out a plate. Then I put the stool back in the bottom cupboard where it belongs and clean up the glass mess on the floor. My arm is now throbbing and I try to ignore it. Nabeel is casually leaning with his back against the countertop facing me. Watching me. I decide it would be better to keep my mouth shut and not say anything. I continue serving myself and put my plate down on the table. I look out the corner of my eye and realize Nabeel is too weak to be standing. "Let's get you something to eat." I tell him. I help him to the table and give him my own plate. As I begin to make myself another Nabeel asks, "What are you doing?" I try not to respond with a sarcastic answer. "I'm making myself a plate," I say stopping what I'm doing to look at him, still not making eye contact. He opens his mouth as though he's going to say something else, but then shakes his head and I resume. Getting my plate I sit down two seats away from him. I have got to avoid him as much as I can, I think. He's no good for me.

A/N: Asalamalaikum! Hope you're all doing well. This chapter seems terribly short but I had a bad case of writers block. Inshallah next chapter will be longer. Don't forget to vote! Talk to you soon! :) x