Fever In The Heart

3. The Mistake

There is a theory that nothing in nature is ever lost; that every sound ever made, every word ever spoken, still exists somewhere in space and time and may one day be recalled.

So, probably, someday what Zeenah did will surely be known. And when that day comes, she will inevitably suffer the consequences of her action.

She shouldn't have agreed to it. Samira had warned her against it. Deep down, even as she agreed to it, she knew it was wrong. But the decision had been made already and there was no backing out. Why? Because she didn't want to lose him because of something that simple.

He was going to marry her right? He’d told her as much already. So why deny him what he'll eventually get? Perhaps they could be accused of getting ahead of themselves, but what was the issue really? She loved Abubakar with all her heart, and she knew that he loved her in more or less the same way. So long as their love would only be strengthened by their actions, then the guilt was surely worth it.

Right?

Despite everything she did to justify her actions, Zeenah couldn't bring herself to shake off the feeling of guilt.

She looked out of her dark window and shivered at the thought of her father getting to know what she did. Being the Chief Imam in their neighborhood, his children were surely meant to set an example for the rest of society. If he somehow came to know what she had done, he would most likely kill her with his bare hands.

What she did was a mistake she would never want to repeat again.

Zeenah wiped the lone tear that escaped her eyes and looked away. She had deceived her parents by saying she was meant to attend a seminar at the university. Her parents were always going to let her go wherever she wanted so long as she told them it was academic. All it took was a fake w******p message on her phone -sent from Samira’s phone the other day before leaving her place of course- and she was out of the house before anyone could think of stopping her.

If the guilt weren’t weighing so heavily on her, Zeenah might have paused to be impressed by how quickly she’d come up with that plan. As soon as Samira left the living room, she reached for her phone and unlocked it. Her password was too easy: 2203. Zeenah had warned her a long time ago that using one’s birthday as their password was silly, but she was immensely grateful that she hadn’t changed it. It took her merely three minutes to type out the 200-word message and send it to her phone. After that, she deleted it from Samira’s message.

It was a brilliant plan, and she would probably have enjoyed it more if she had done it for a good cause.

Zeenah stood up slowly, her legs still very weak from the previous day. The deed had been done over 12 hours ago, and her body was still reminding her of the shameful act.

She shouldn't have; the feelings of remorse were inevitable.

But then she smiled at the memory of his smiling face; of his warm eyes showing his love to her; of his soothing words telling her how much she meant to him. She was his world, and in three months she would be his wife. That alone washed down a small part of the guilt she was feeling.

She laid down on her bed once again and drew the quilt to her body. She couldn't sleep yesterday after doing it; she couldn't even look at her parents today as she used to whole the memory of what she’d done was still fresh in her thoughts.

Pathetic.

Her phone rang beside her and she thought of ignoring it only momentarily before she reached over and grabbed it.

Her heart leaped with joy but then fear gripped her as she saw who it was. She stared at the caller ID before sitting up. Gathering the little courage she had left, she received the call.

"Hey."

"Baby," came his husky voice. He sounded like he had just woken up. "I thought you were still asleep."

"No," she replied slowly, her heart beat increasing. "I just woke up. How are you?”

"Fine. I miss you," he said so slowly she thought she didn't hear him right. "I miss you so much. You didn't pick my calls throughout today, and you didn't reply my messages. Is something wrong?"

Zeenah kept quiet, thinking of what to say.

"Nothing,” she replied finally. “I'm just scared."

"Scared? I don't understand. Scared of what? Me?"

"Yeah," she replied without hesitating. "I'm paranoid and nonplussed; Will you call off the wedding now? Were you calling since morning to say you're not marrying me again? Are you regretting meeting me? I'm afraid to listen to the answers to those questions. I'm so scared right now Abubakar."

Abubakar was silent, registering what she just finished saying. Was that really how low she thought of him? Even after what they’d done? She thinks he'll let her go after getting what he wanted? Does she think he's like other men out there? Deceptive?

Damn!

"I guess you're right," he stated, trying too weak to control his anger. "Maybe I'll do just that. If that's what you're thinking, then let it be so. Have a goodnight rest." And he hung up on her.

Zeenah stared at the dead phone in her hand for several minutes, dazed and confused. Closing her eyes, she let the tears she had been holding back flow freely. She should have listened to Samira.

Abubakar meanwhile let out a harsh breath and tossed his phone angrily on his bed.

Zeenah’s skepticism on him was really frustrating on his psyche. He had never had it in mind to let her go; not now, not ever. She shouldn't have said those words to him. He still loved her, and he loved her even more after what happened. Why couldn't she trust him?

He picked up his phone, going through all of her photos he had. 'She's beautiful; so beautiful,' he thought.

Reluctantly, he kept the phone and lay on his side. He will give her time to let everything sink in first.

*

It had been three days already, and Abubakar still hadn't called, nor had he texted her. It was so hard for her to control her anger and call him, but she couldn't.

She humped and hissed loudly, causing Samira and Hauweey to look at her quizzically.

"Is everything alright?” Samira asked. "You seem kind of distracted and distant these days. You weren't even concentrating in class and you kept zoning out."

"I'm fine," Zeenah replied dismissively. "I’m just a little bit sick."

"I see," Hauweey answered, still looking at her. "It looks like you're hiding something," she added before looking away.

The three friends were sitting outside the Islamic school they attended: Madarasatul Huda-al Tahfizul Qur'an.

"What could I possibly be hiding? I'm not hiding anything," Zeenah replied quickly, not even trying to meet the gaze of her two friends.

'They know me too well' she thought. 'They'll easily see through my facade and know that I'm lying. I won't let them know anything'.

"If you say so," Samira said before asking "How's Mr. Habu? Been a while we've heard about him."

"He's  doing just fine. Just busy with work," Zeenah replied.

"Are you two having that lovers kinda fight?" Hauweey asked jokingly. "Because it looks like that's what is bothering you."

Samira quickly looked at Zeenah and Zeenah looked away.

"No. It’s nothing like that. We're good."

"Okay then. I have to go. I have another class now," Hauweey said.

"Sure. Take care."

"I will. Bye girls." And she left.

Samira kept looking at Zeenah who was still looking away.

"I told you to dump the fool," she said quietly. "Don't tell me you're still seeing him.

Zeenah remained quiet.

“Look Zeenah,” she sighed, “don't make the mistake of trusting that man so much that he has the power to hurt you. Never give someone that power."

"And who said I'm going to trust him? I can't dump him just like that, Samira. You have to understand that we need to settle things maturely."

"Why talk things maturely when he's an i***t? Tell Mama about this and call off this wedding. He's not a husband material if he's only after your body!"

"And who said he's only after my body?" Zeenah asked, her heart breaking at the thought.

"What is he after then? Don't even try to tell me he's after you and you alone, because there's no sensible man out there who loves you genuinely that'll ask for something like this before marriage. He's a psychopath, Zeenah!"

"Don't call him that," Zeenah said in tears. "You don't even know him like I do. Just let me handle this issue my way; don't rush me and make me loose him completely."

Zeenah covered her face with her hands and cried. This was getting too much; she had to resolve the issue soon.

Bringing out her cell phone, she typed a quick message to him.

‘When are you coming to get your things and call off the engagement?’

She waited for a while before his reply came in.

‘Sure, nice thought. I'll be coming over later in the day and we'll call it off once and for all. Take care.’