Masked

《17》

•{the mask}•

"Subhanallah, I really did not expect to meet you like this,"

Mustafa half-whispered, the corners of his stretched lips rising up, the lines around his light brown eyes coming into view. Saalim registered the old man's features, feeling his own slowly return into their monotonous state. 

He turned to land his gaze at Fathima, who shuddered, her teeth quite clearly visible through her smile, her amber eyes glistening with tears. She nodded, quickly turning to her husband, who had heard the exchange, and walked towards her, holding her outstretched hand.  

"Subhanallah, I'm only seeing you now, brother Mustafa. Fathima told me a lot about you."

Ali exclaimed, walking towards the couch, then sitting beside Mustafa, having been offered the seat by Saalim.

"I-I'll make you something sweet, brother Mustafa."

Fathima suggested, her voice still shaking through the weight of her tears. Mustafa stared at her longingly, gesturing to the seat across from him, the smile never leaving his eyes.

"Sit down, Fathima. The atmosphere here is sweet enough now, let's talk."

The old couple laughed at Mustafa's words, and so did Saalim, who sat adjacent to him, all the while trying his best to remember where he had seen the familiar face that had surely recognized him.

Fathima shook her head, briskly wiping her eyes, chuckling again as she clenched her skirt. 

"You didn't even come to our wedding, I missed you a lot that day, brother."

She managed to speak, her smile cracking up, and only more tears building up in her eyes. Mustafa nodded slowly, looking down at his wrinkled and hard hands. His cheeks had started to hurt, but his heart was as happy as it had been, when years ago, he left her house that evening. 

"I had my reasons, though I had tried my best to see my dear little sister all grown up and dressed as a bride,"

He turned to Ali, who smiled at him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"and of course, to see the lucky man she would spend the rest of her life with! I hope she wasn't a pain in the head?"

The three laughed yet again, leaving Saalim who could only smile. He knew well, that there was something he was missing, something he didn't know. And what he also realized then, as he caught his Aunt wipe another one of her uncontrolled tears, that it wasn't something he would like to know either.

Were they happy? Or were they sad? And how did they know eachother? He was indeed missing a lot of information.

Guess I would never know.

Saalim sighed, taking out his cell phone from his pocket as he stood up simultanously, looking through all eyes that averted towards him.

"Excuse me, I just remembered, I have to make a quick call."

"Sure, go ahead."

Mustafa nodded at him, reminding him of his familier eyes yet again, that Saalim smiled at before turning from the three to walk into his room.

"That must be your son, I suppose? His smile is a lot like-"

"Like Yusrah, yes."

Fathima added with a smile, that seemed weak enough to crumple down any moment. Mustafa's smile lessened for a minute, before Ali explained.

"His name is Saalim, he is sister Yusrah's son."

"Oh,"

Mustafa nodded slowly, his smile having disappeared for a short while, before it came back with a chuckle as he stared at the half empty glass in front of him, rubbing his hands together in ponder.