Trust You [TRUE STORY]

Chapter 11

Chapter 10: caught red handed.

I WAS SPARYING MY PERFUME WHEN YASSEF DECIDED to come in the room and greet me. After taking a long nice warm shower and dressing up into comfortable presentable clothes, he slumped himself on the bed.




“Where are you going?” He asked, while slipping under the covers of his side of the room. He took his phone and began to click buttons, “Its too late to go out now, don’t you think?”




I sprayed my raspberry scented perfume one more time before watching myself in the mirror, “Yeah. This GATHERING with my friends is a little last minute”



Lying was one thing I hated doing. I actually don’t lie often. I only lie when it’s necessary And if you ask me, this is pretty damn necessary. He watched me for a little, probably to see what I was wearing and if it was appropriate. Not that he would care though.


“Okay. Have fun I guess” He then played the movie he was about to watch as it blasted through the the speakers. I  watched myself one more time before heading out and slipping out into my warm boots.










When I got outside, I was greeted by the cold air. I don’t normally go outside on my own but because I badly and I mean BADLY wanted to meet this girl, I had to leave the house. I wanted to know what kind of girls he’s into. I want to know what he saw in Karen.


Sure she won’t immediately recognize me but after I awkwardly introduce myself and show her the pictures I grabbed with the letters behind it, she’ll know that I have some kind of relationship with him. And then she’ll ask me questions while I ask her some. And then she’ll be either rude or nice or neutral. It can’t be anything else. By the looks on her face, she possessed the look of a baby. The big cheeks and the red skin. The dark brown shoulder length hair. Did he like shorter hair? My hair was currently mid back.



Karen had nice eyes. While she had nice dark green ones, I only had bright Brown ones. He mustv'e been into those kinds of eyes, the ones that have a natural shine. The ones that get even and brighter when the sun hits them.





-




-




I got to the Mayors hall faster than it usually took me. I walked a good two kilometers to get here since I don’t have a car only to meet his old love. The one he favored in high school. Saying my hands weren’t shaking and I wasn’t nervous is a lie. Because I was very nervous that I would meet a person like her. I couldn’t tell by the messages weather or not she was a sweat heart or if she was manageable. I couldn’t tell anything about her other than she was hurt that he never replied to her emails. That he never cared after a certain point. I do kind of feel bad but then again he’s given her the attention that I strive for any day.




       The area had a lot of people there. Not so much to the point where it was hard to walk without traffic. But here were families sitting next to each other already taking up on shady tree. Some people were sitting on benches, near the hall. Some were watching the museum and others were just taking their sweat all mighty time walking around.



             I stood in the middle of the place looking around for a certain blonde. I don’t know if she dyed them now or anything like that. But there was a couple of people near a bench. And maybe I could ask them if they’ve seen a woman by the name ‘Karen Q’ even though that would be the stupidest I’d er do.



                “Excuse Me,” I nudged the shoulder of a lady who had a newspaper in front of her face. I waited a couple old seconds for her to remove it before saying, “I know this is weird for me to ask, but have you seen a blonde girl by the name Karen? She’s not from here she moved away to the states—”  the woman got up and immediately pretended like I never spoke to her. She walked away into the grass and out of my sight.







Okay then.






I passed on to the next bench, “Hey” it was a guy in a cap. He had a large drink in his hands while watching me with his blood shot eyes, “Have you seen a woman by the name Karen?”




He looked back and forth, “No. But that’s the name of my sister. If your looking for my sister, She works as a doctor in south Africa”



I shook my head, “No sir. Thanks anyway”




There was a girl sitting beside him. She had a cigarette in her hands and dark red hair. Her middle finger and index held the cancer stick tightly without letting go taking in shaky and normal breaths of it. I can already feel intoxicated by it from simply looking at the scene.




“Hello,” I waved at the girl. She looked up, bringing her eyes to mine. There was something about them. It was as if I was looking at what  I was looking for. Almost what I’ve been seeing all along. She had dark circles around her eyes, crazy mitts and impossible amount of pimples on her face, “Hi. I know this is weird to ask since I don’t really know you and I don’t know a lot of people here but uh—do you by  any chance know a girl by the name Karen? Karen Q?”



I only begged for this one to know. I had no clue how she looked like now. All I’ve Ever seen were constant rejections. Some people thought I was crazy asking them such a question.




This girl on the other hand, took the cigarette out of her mouth to reply to Me, “And you are?”





It was weird. I asked her if she knew who I was talking about, “Do you know her? Do you know a girl named Karen?”



She scoffed, her nose wrinkling, “Of course I know her. I am her”



Responding to that was going to be one of the hardest things I can ever muster. The cold voice she spoke, couldn’t even imagine it this way. Her dark red hair is extremely different. Nothing of what I ever pictured. But like I said, her eyes were familiar. I should be known from the start.




Replying was difficult. But not saying anything would have been embarrassing, “Hi. I’m Emaan”



My name wad like the easiest thing I could think of. I mean she wouldn’t want me to talk to her without her knowing me. I guess introducing myself is the first step to meeting a new person.



She didn’t seem to care who I was. A simple smile never crossed her face, “And?”



I’m the one who replied to you through Yassef’s email and like I want to talk to you and get to know how you won his heart for those past years. I want to learn from you.




That would have been so much easier to say if she didn’t scowl 24/7, “I saw your email that you sent to uh—” saying his name right now is difficult too, “Yassef and he couldn’t make it today so he told me to come and meet you instead since he still kind of wants to know what you wanted to say to him—”



“Who are YOU?” She cut off My mini rant, “And how do you know Yassef?”



“I told you who I am.” Her attitude suddenly stopped getting to me. I thought she was a big innocent girl by she’s acting like she can talk to anyone like that, “I’m Emaan and—”



“No. What position do you take in his life? Is he your friend?” She took a step closer.



I took a step back, “No. He’s not my friend. I’m his co-worker” I had to lie. She didn’t look to happy of me saying that Yassef was even my friend. She looked mad that another girl even knows Yassef. What happened the sweet girl in the emails?


“Co-worker?” She scoffed, “As if. Why would he send his co worker to come and talk to me about something personal?” She crossed her arms now, “You think I’m stupid?”





I don’t even know her, “No. I think you need to calm down. I only came to talk”




“I didn’t come here to talk to you. I came to talk to Yassef,” She rolled her eyes, “So go back and call him. I don’t Want  to think I wasted my time here”



She's really getting on my nerves. So I’m Gunna Get under her skin. “I’m not his Co-worker. Your right” I smirked, “I’m his wife”




It’s like she all of a sudden stopped treating me like garbage. She knows who I am now and what position I REALLY take in his life.


She smiled devilishly, “Quit lying.”





What?




“Excuse me?” now I took a step forward and she took a step back, “I’m lying?”



“There s no way he’s married. He’s only twenty two” she laughed, “Absolutely no way”



She clearly doesn’t know the life of a Muslim Sudanese/ Eritrean.


I laughed, “You can’t be serious. We get married around this age in our culture”



“Yassef is Eritrean” she laughed, “You don’t look Eritrean”




“I’m not.”




“Exactly.”



“But we share the same culture. The same religion” I narrowed my eyes at her. She was really getting under my skin, “And were married”





“Prove it.” She smirked.






And then I smirked, “Okay.” I flashed her the ring. The wedding ring that Yassef slipped on my finger the day we were getting married, “Explain this”



She immediately backed down. She let her arms fall and looked to the floor. And then her smirk disappeared while she sadly sat down on the bench, “Yassef is married?” She muttered under her breath. From the looks of it, she still has feelings for him, “Does he like YOU? Does he have feelings for YOU?”



I cringed, “I don’t know”



“What do you mean you don’t know? Why would he marry someone he doesn’t love?” She shot back, “That doesn’t make any sense. He should marry me. Because he loves me”




That’s awkward.






I slowly approached her, “He did love you didn’t he? Tell me how it happened? How did you guys get together?”



She sniffed, “It was in high school. . .”






                 She told me everything from the beginning tie end. She started off hating every inch of me (I don’t blame her, she was expecting yassef) and then we were from new enemies to new friends pretty quick. She told me how much she used to love him, the kind of things they did and how Yassef sacrificed his reputation for her. How he was always such a gentleman. How he was a fun guy who would take her to diner and then an amusement park. He would take her to the movies, hold her hands in public and even kiss out in public. She told me how her heart would lump every time he would be affectionate with her. She mentioned how he would always hold her hands when they were cold or cuddle with her on the nights her parents would fight.




            She was telling me about how he would support her in any decision she made. How he would always be there for her In the end. Thad when she mentioned the emails and the story behind them. She was moving to Seattle and Yassef was the first person she told. He was happy for her that she was going to a university but he entire Seattle part must be crushed him. Apparently, after that day, he avoided all eye contact. Refused to pick of the phone when it went straight to voice mail. Ignored every voicemail she left and he even deleted her contact in his phone. She was heartbroken she said. She was so disappointed that she refused to go to Seattle on her first plane flight and that they booked it for another time.





He didn’t Care either. According to her, she asked Yassef closest relatives if he acted differently or weirdly. Or if he was distant with anyone else. Yassef cousin told her that he was fine. He acted the same way he always acted. He was always smiling whenever he was with his friends.





And from the way she described him, he sounded like an asshole. Worse than the one I was living with right now.





-



-




-



I came home, throwing the keys on the dishwasher. I came At the right time about five minutes before my due time. I put my purse on the floor as I ran straight into the kitchen to grab myself a cup of water. Talking all day with Karen made me throaty. Her story was interesting. Already I seen two parts of the story. The emails and her version of it. It helped a lot for me to know what kind of person Yassef is. But truth is, I think he just matured. I think he’s become a man and a better person. A person responsible who Owns a furniture store. I think he’s just getting older and he’s changing.





Right when I was about to take my Hijab off and then it into a turban, Yassef walked into the room, me completely forgetting his presence at home.





“Oh hey Yassef,” I went into the washroom and switched my Hijab and into a turban, “How’d you do while I was gone?”





He followed me, “Did you have fun with your friends” he emphasized the word ‘friends’.




I smiled, “Uhuh. We talked about going sky diving. Can’t wait so freaking excited”






          I hated lying. Lying wasn’t Something I did often. Especially to Yassef and if he ever finds out I bet if be the beginning to some big hardship in this relationship of ours.


“Oh cool. What else did you talk about?” he bit his lip, a suspicious frown all over his face.



I fixed my turban just a little bit in the mirror, “Just some things. Things you don’t know about” he would’ve never been curious about my conversations with my friends. He doesn’t even know my friends. He probably doesn’t Even know their names so his questions really are messing with my mind.



“Okay and when were you Gunna tell me that your friends with Karen?” He closed the washroom door to lock us in. My eyes widened looking at his reflection through the mirror as I turned my head faster than ever. I watched him as my mouth dropped.



“You didn’t think I would’ve never found out right? I mean common Emaan, it was on my computer.”





I let go of the straps of my scarf just to look at him guilty, “Let me explai—”





“Honestly I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that you lied to me about meeting your friends or the fact that I was nice to you all along while you Deceived me by reading my emails.” he shook his head looking at the white tiles, “What’s Wrong with you?”




                      I couldn’t even reply to him he was right by a thousand times. He knew that I went to go meet Karen and now he probably wants nothing to do with me. I knew I was doing something wrong but I didn’t ev bother stopping either way. I let my curiosity go before my relation ship with Yassef. And now he’s mad at me for it and he has every right to be.




I sighed, defeated “I really am s—”



                He laughed, “Don’t give me that crap. I actually gave you a chance. Why the hell would you want to meet Karen?”




Explaining things to him was definitely going to be hard by lying to him again is another mistake I am not planning to make. I’m not willing to lie and then get yelled at all over again. It’s not a choice. It’s definitely not a choice.




I took a deep breath, tears burning the back of my eyes “For some reason I feel like I’ll be in love with you one day. I feel like I’ll love you so freaking much and you wouldn’t even think of me that  way no matter what. Just the feeling of loving you in the future made me want to change something. Because obviously, I’d want to be loved in return. So I went through your stuff since I barely knew anything about you”




He laughed sarcastically, looking away and wiping his nose.




“Why aren’t you taking me seriously?” I slapped his shoulder, “I saw these pictures in your bottom drawer of this girl. And she wad beautiful and you seemed to love her so much. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be exactly like her because you seemed to love her and—”





“Leave.” He didn’t even look at me. He didn’t let me finish or anything of that sort.  Instead, he unlocked the washroom door and opened it leading a passageway into the hall.




“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. He didn’t even want to listen to my explanation. But you know What, I messed up pretty bad. But it wouldn’t hurt to give me a chance. “Why? Let me expl—” I grabbed his shoulders.





He nudged off my hands, “Don’t touch me. Ever”





I gently pulled my hands away, “Sorry”





“No. Get out”





“Yassef—”




“Leave. Go back to your mum's house. Go to your friend Karen” he began to pull me out. When we got out the washroom he went inside our room and started to pack my bags for me.






“My mother would never allow me to go in the house” I used that excuse even though it was terribly true.





“I don’t care,” he threw in a bunch of my clothes, dresses and humans from my closet and into a bag, “Go sleep on the streets. I really don’t care where you go just get out of my house”





“Don’t be like this. You don’t Even want to hear my side of the Story”




He threw the bag at me, “Tell me, Emaan. If I looked threw your god damn phone and laptop wouldn’t you be mad too? Actually, if you had an ex boyfriend in the past, would you like me to look through your computer and read your old emails?”





I guess he’s right, “You weren’t Even supposed to have a girlfriend! Why are you blaming me for your mistakes?”



“I’m not. I’m blaming you for being so flipping nosy” He walked me to the front door. When he wad angry, I noticed his flawless smooth skin get a shade darker in a red like manner. He would clench his fists and his cheekbones would go up a level. His frizzy dark Brown hair was ruffled as if he ran his fingers through it a billion tiles, “Don’t come back. I don’t ever want to see you”




A tear finally rolled down my cheek after five minutes of being brave. He never looked at me once probably because he knew I was crying. He knew my voice would be shaky if I even attempted to speak.



I simply slipped on my shoes and walked put the front door, leaving the house. But before he closed the front door, he shouted out:

“Oh I almost forgot,” he snickered, “Don’t you dare call me your husband.”



















____________________________

Say Mashallah,

Thank Allah (S.W.T)  that he isn't like this anymore. He used to be that kind of person who would jump to conclusions all the time. Nearly cried while writing this chapter. I remembered this one very well since this had a huge impact in my life at the time. I had to ask a lot of permissions for this chapter too. Guess who? ;)

If you guys can vote and comment it would mean the world. Maybe even take two seconds to follow me ;)

-Emaan Reyaz.