The Price Of Revenge

Five

Fuad lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts entirely consumed by Rumaisa. Ever since he had seen her at the restaurant earlier, he had not been able to think about anything else. She had looked radiant. Confident. Happy. And she had someone beside her, someone who seemed close and familiar.

It should have stung, but instead it left him uneasy in a way he could not quite explain. She looked different, better than she had three years ago, stronger and freer, as though she had built a life that no longer had room for him. When their eyes had met, there had been a subtle tension between them, something unspoken that he could not interpret. Part of him wondered if it was regret. Another part feared it was simply the pull of memories he had never completely let go of.

But there was no ignoring the truth. There were things they still needed to discuss. Conversations had been left unfinished, and words had gone unsaid for far too long. The longer he waited, the more complicated everything seemed to become.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He needed clarity before his thoughts consumed him. After changing into a simple grey shirt and black sweatpants, he looked at himself briefly in the mirror.

Nothing about his clothes demanded attention, which was exactly what he wanted.

Yet a twinge of guilt returned when he thought about Hadiza. He had been unnecessarily cold to her earlier. She had been waiting for him, trying to connect with him, and he had barely acknowledged her. Four months of patience, care and trust, and he had treated her as though she were barely there.

Fuad rubbed both hands over his face and exhaled.

He needed to sort himself out before he tried to sort anything out with Rumaisa. His emotions were a mess, but he could not allow them to control him.

The first step was figuring out exactly what he wanted.

Then he would act.

•

Fuad got dressed quickly, the urgency in his chest refusing to settle. He needed to see Rumaisa. Now. He needed to explain himself, to clarify what had happened and, somehow, set things right before his thoughts spiraled any further.

He remembered Mama mentioning that she would be attending a wedding with Jabir's mother around this time. He quickly grabbed his phone and called her.

"Mama?" he said when she answered.

"Fuad? What's wrong? You can't reach your mother?"

Her concerned tone made him pause.

"No, it's not that. I was on my way to see you, but then I remembered you wouldn't be home."

"Yes, but you can wait for me there. We're finishing up anyway."

"Okay... alright. I'll see you there."

"Alright."

He ended the call and tightened his grip around his car keys.

His heart was pounding as he hurried out of the house, every thought fixed on one person.

Rumaisa.

This could not wait another second.

•

Fuad had been sitting in his car for twenty-five minutes, replaying a thousand possible conversations in his head.

What was he even going to say?

He tightened his jaw and stared through the windshield before finally forcing himself out of the car.

The front door was wide open.

He took a deep breath and walked inside.

"Come on, you can tell. It's not cheap. It's cashmere."