Forever And A Day

Chapter 3

MALAIKA

Wincing, she hobbled to her bedroom. Sitting on her bed, she stripped her clothes and surveyed the damage. Her knees were bruised heavily and the skin on her thighs was red and lightly scratched.

Tenderly touching the bruises, a jolt of pain shot up her legs and she pulled her hand back gasping in pain. At least nothing was broken, she was grateful of that.

Walking slowly to her bathroom, she stood underneath the shower and twisted open the faucets. As the hot water pelted her body, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. The hot water stung the scrapes on her legs but she felt relaxed than before.

Her mind drifted to the stranger who had hit her, and consequently also helped her. He was tall, with piercing grey eyes and long black hair that dangled in his face. A cleft in his chin and a sharp jaw-line. He had an air of confidence to him. She recalled that he was truly genuine in his concern. Most people would just blame the pedestrian and go their own way.

But he had insisted on taking her to the hospital, paying the fee even. With shame, she realized how she had blown up at him at the mention of expenses. Money was a sensitive subject for her. She preferred to have her own and wanted no charity from other.

Her college expenses were minimal as her scholarship covered her academic expenses; her mother's pension was enough to ensure her a month's groceries. For her personal needs, she earned money by baby-sitting the children in the neighborhood. It was good money and she saved most of it, for emergency uses.

Getting out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and walked over to the closet. Rummaging through the clothes, she pulled out a trouser and a t-shirt. Putting them on, she discarded the towel in the hamper along with her dirty clothes and got into bed.

Her little adventure had robbed her of her appetite and she was drowsy from the bath.

Pulling the covers, her last thought was whether she would see the man again or not.

*

The morning sun fell on her face and she woke up. She had completely forgotten to draw the curtains last night. Looking over to the clock she saw the time.

It was 8:32 in the morning. Lying back on her bed again, she looked up at the ceiling and thought of last night.

'Get a grip, no need to dwell so much. Romance is the last thing you need right now.'

Just then, her doorbell sounded. Getting up, she grabbed a shawl and wrapped it around herself. Walking over to the door, she looked through the peep-hole.

Strange, there was nobody there. Opening the door, she looked around. No one was in sight. She was about to close the door when her eye fell upon the doorstep. A single pale pink envelope was lying there.

With a feeling of apprehension, she picked it up and closed the door. Ripping it open, a single piece of paper with something scrawled on it was there. Reading it, the color drained from her face and she started shivering.

The paper fell from her grasp and drifted to the ground.

'I won't tolerate it again seeing you with another man like last night.'

*

HAMZA

Hamza woke to the shrill sound of his alarm clock. Reaching out a hand to hit it, he rolled over in bed and blinked at the ceiling. He thought again of last night.

The girl's gaze held his attention even now. He remembered how she had been so hesitant, shying away from him. The way she looked at him with her gaze lowered to the ground. Her startled look when she caught him staring and the way the blush crept up so prettily on her cheeks.

Getting out of bed, he shook his head. No other girl had attracted him this way. True, he had seen many but none had enraptured him the way she had. He was drawn to her.

And he didn't even know her name, he chuckled darkly to himself.

Having a quick shower, he dressed quickly and went downstairs to breakfast. As soon as he got to the dining table, he heard his mother call him from behind.

"Hamza."

Stopping midstride, he turned around.

Afra Malik was a sophisticated woman in her fifties. Beautiful, charitable and a socialite, she was also intimidating.

Hamza had been in court plenty of times, fought with countless dangerous men, invoked the wrath of many. But never once had he been afraid.

Looking at his mother now, he felt uneasy. Her face was devoid of any emotion but the way she had called him, he felt ready to run.

"Good morning mum." He sauntered over to her and bent down to kiss her cheek.

"Morning."

Now he knew he was definitely in the deep. When she communicated in one-word answers; that meant she was not to be messed with.

Gesturing towards the dining table, she looked at him in the eye.

"Sit."

Gulping, he went over to the table and sat down.

Sitting at the head of the table, his mother folded her hands together and looked at him expectantly.

"Care to explain why you came home so late last night? And why you avoided my calls?"

Reaching over to the jug of fresh juice, he poured himself a glass to avoid eye contact.

"I met up with Daniyal and we had lunch and lost track of time." He answered as airily as he could, despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach. She did not know about the accident of last night.

Her mother looked relieved somewhat.

"But why didn't you pick up my calls?"

"I didn't have my phone with me. It was in the car and on silent mode."

He felt guilty about lying to her so much but he knew that if he told her about last night she would hound him to the end of his days and that was a conversation he was not at all looking forward to.

'Oh yeah, I was ignoring you because I was too busy with a girl whom I just happened to hit with my car.'

That conversation would sure go smoothly, no problems at all.

His mother looked at him but thankfully asked no further questions. Without further ado, he got up from his chair and headed upstairs to get ready.

It was going to be a long day at court.

*