Delving Deeper

[NINE]

NUR

I’m basically a prisoner in my own house. After dumping a bucket of secrets on my head, my brothers all but locked me in my room.

Gotta thank them that it wasn’t the playroom, right?

I sit in my room, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how I got entangled in this stupid mess.

Everything in my life seems to be a question. I wonder how good ol’ me even decided to marry someone like him. Could he be lying to me? But no, why would Ahyan lie? He doesn’t seem the least bit interested in me.

And the fact that he hasn’t tried to check up on me for the past . . . day, proves my point. Nobody cares about me.

There is absolutely no comfort in having one thousand brothers who can’t even understand what I’m going through.

Our house is the same. As if they didn’t just tell me that I’m promised to Brother Yusuf. Was promised. I bet he himself doesn’t know.

What were they thinking, anyway? Is this the 19th century? I can’t believe everyone in my family knew and me, the person who is supposed to be married, had absolutely no clue.

Loneliness claws up inside me, making my eyes water. When there’s a big chunk missing from your brain, everything in life seems to be unknown. I know it was something important. I just have no idea what it was.

The fact that Ahyan refuses to tell me doesn’t help either. If I could get him to speak . . .

I rise up from the bed and snap my fingers. But . . .

Ugh. I fall back. In order to get in touch with Ahyan, I need a phone. But I don’t even have his number.

Another idea lights up in my head. Kabir already knew about this ‘marriage’. That means he knows Ahyan and he must have his number. After all, he gave his sister in marriage to him.

Hah. Even the thought is funny.

Anyway, I can’t miss this chance. I need to get back my memories before this blankness swallows me whole. And Ahyan is my ticket to that.

. . .

Believe it or not, my brothers didn’t actually lock me in. I’m just not allowed to go anywhere outside the house. But as they oh-so-sweetly pointed out, I can roam around freely in the house.

So kind, aren’t they?

I rap my knuckles against Kabir’s door. When I hear bickering that sounds way too much like Fahad and his big mouth, I open the door and step inside.

It’s not surprising that neither of them turns to look at me. It’s obvious that I came at the worst time.

“I like her!” Fahad roars, in what I’m assuming is the thousandth time. And yes, you got it right, he’s definitely talking about Layla. Unless there is some other girl he’s hopelessly in love with.

Kabir sighs, looking at Fahad like he’s garbage. “So you keep telling me,”

If I were to choose between the two of them to share stuff, it would undoubtedly be Kabir. He’s the more serious, understanding type of person. He can also be very stubborn, which is a trait in our family, and very, very angry.

One thing though: He does not like Layla. I’ve never seen him look more than once at her and Layla and I have been friends since I could remember.

“Guys,” I interrupt and their heads fly in my direction, as if just realizing that I’ve been standing here for more than a few minutes.

It’s all a façade though. Kabir is always on-guard and I’m sure he saw me the minute I entered. His face doesn’t show anything of that sort.

Fahad narrows his eyes at me. “Who allowed you out of your room?”

If this was another day, at another time, I would’ve probably made a smartass remark. Right now, tears well up in my eyes.

Fahad’s eyes widen. “Hey. I didn’t mean it like that.”

If looks could kill, Fahad would be dead. Kabir all but drags him through the cold, ceramic tiles of the room and throws him out, shutting the door behind me.

“This guy,” he looks heavenward. “I think I might commit murder one day,”

I sniff and Kabir’s eyes shoot to mine.

“Aw, Nur, come here,” He opens his arms wide and I gladly step into his warm embrace. Did I mention how sweet he can be when he wants?

I mumble incoherent words against his hard chest. He begins to pull back, as if wanting to know what I’m saying. I don’t let him go, though. Not yet.

I cling to him like a koala and he strokes my hair as I continue to sob, murmuring soothing words.

“You know,” his voice has a teasing lilt to it. “I might suffocate what with the death grip and all,”

I giggle lightly and manage to pull back.

Kabir ruffles my hair and I make a sound that more or less sounds like ‘ANGH’, fixing my hair.

“Now tell me why you’re here,”

Leave it to Kabir to know everything.

I refuse to meet his eyes. “Um . . .”

“Yes, Nur?” He asks patiently.

I rock on the tips of my feet and nervously lick my lips. “Could I─Would you possibly have Ahyan’s number?”

His eyebrows rise a notch. “Possibly? I might. Why?”

Come on, get the hint already bro. “I need to talk to him,”

“You don’t say,”

I close my eyes and inhale sharply. “Kabir, stop acting like that and give me his number.”

His expression has changed back in that stern, brotherly way. “Why? If he wants to talk, he can come over.”

“I─” I stop and throw him a suspicious look. “How did you know about me and him anyway?”

Kabir looks the other way, shoulders tightening visibly. “I was there,”

Hope sparks inside my chest. “Then do you know why I married him? I must’ve told you,”

He shakes his head, still refusing to meet my eyes.

I eye him. “You know, don’t you? Come on, Kabir, why aren’t you telling me?”

Without another word, he walks to his nightstand, picks up his phone and throws it my way. I catch it midair, surprised.

“Ask him yourself,”