Clueless Love

Today Fatima and I are meeting up after work to talk about her and Udar’s almost marriage. I am still shocked she almost got married and I am just finding out about it now. Today I am wearing white high waist wide leg trousers, a black top, white swing coat, black stiletto heels, a black hajib, and a black handbag.

I perform my Asr (late afternoon) prayers before going to see Fatima. I just finished at the office, and I am on my way over to her place. I park my car and walk out to meet Fatima. The home has a black cast iron gate with lovely flowers all around the front porch. It’s a two-story building.

I ring the bell three times before the maid opens it for me. I make my way straight to Fatima’s room.

The entryway is as lovely as the front porch; there are grand staircases with black bannisters leading to two separate parts in the house, and a big crystal chandelier.

“As-salamu Alaykum,” I say walking into her room after knocking.

Fatima’s walls are painted white, with two lovely paintings hanging above her headboard, and a chandelier in the middle. The bed has a white blanket and light brown colored throws. The pillows are white, dark green and light brown in colors. The bed-side table is white with a brown handle and a flower vase. There are two white couches in front of her bed with a TV at the far end. There are two doors, one is the bathroom while the other is her closet.

“Wa- Alaykum salam, how are you doing?” she says coming up to hug me.

“I’m fine, and you?” I say sitting down on one of the couches in front of the TV.

“I am fine. How was work? Any drama with your new husband?” she asks laughing.

“He is not my husband, and no, we did not fight today because he travelled,” I say remembering how lovely today was because Ismail is out of town.

“Oh, and speaking of the husband… I am very sorry I did not tell you about Udar, but it’s because I was ashamed,” she says, pulling her head down using her hair to cover her face.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Why would you be ashamed? You are not the first girl not to marry a guy who proposed to her,” I say wondering what happened.

“I know, but the reason we did not get married was not because I didn’t like him or anything. It’s something I am very ashamed of,” she says tearing up.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” I say, rubbing her back while hugging her to stop her from crying.

“No, it’s fine. And it’s high time I tell someone else the reason,” she says wiping her tears with her palms.

“Alright if you want to.”

“It all started after I graduated high school. I was waiting for my admission to Uni. Papa and mama called me one day and told me a family had asked for my hand in marriage for their son.

At first, I was frustrated because I wouldn’t be able to complete my education. But then mama said if I agreed to marry him, I wouldn’t have to stop my study. They will still pay for my education. Or if my husband wanted, he could pay but I will go to school regardless.

So after that, I considered marrying him, and that man is Udar. When I first met him, I liked him right away. We were like a match made in heaven. He was God-fearing, loving, caring, and very handsome. I fell in love with him. I accepted the proposal after two months.

We were meant to marry a month later, but then something happened. Udar did something that hurt my feelings.

It was the day I got accepted into Uni. I was so happy I could not wait to tell him the news, but I got the shock of my life. I was about to walk into his office when I heard him say,

”You know the only reason I am marrying that girl is to get my inheritance.” It stopped me dead in my tracks. I could not believe what I was hearing. I loved Udar and I thought he loved me too, but I guess I was wrong. I was about to turn back and leave, but the next words I heard shattered my heart to pieces. He said, “Do you really think I could love such an ugly fat thing. I only told her I loved her to make the marriage happen faster.” After that, I quickly ran out of the building because I did not think I would have been able to hear any more.” Fatima says crying.

“Ya, Allah! Fatima, I am so sorry that happened,” I say hugging her.

“Thank you, even though it’s not your fault,” Fatima says hugging me back.

“After that…” Fatima says wiping her tears, but I cut her short.

“You still want to continue?” I ask shocked she still wants to talk about it more.

“Yes, I have to finish the story.”

“Alright then. If you want to, I’m listening.”

“The next day, I told everyone I did not want to marry him. Everyone asked me why, but I was too ashamed to tell them why. I did not want anyone pitying me, and also I did not want anyone to hate him because of the things he said about me. But I told my mother months later, and she understood and promised not to tell anyone.”

“You have such a beautiful heart,” I say, hugging her with tears in my eyes as well.

“Are you crying?” she says noticing she is not the only one crying.

“No, no I am not crying,” I say trying to push back my tears.

“I love you, and I am very sorry I did not tell you.”

“I love you too, and I forgive you. And he is not worthy of you, dear. You are more than that.”

“I know that now,” she says smiling faintly.

“And besides, you were not that fat,” I say, recalling the first day we met.

Fatima and I met in university. We were roommates, and I won’t lie Fatima was overweight, but later she started excising and eating healthy. I can tell you for a fact that if any man got a good look at her now he would be begging Fatima to be his wife, because of how good looking she is now.

“I was, and I can never thank you enough for saving me,” she says, tearing up again.

When Fatima arrived at university, she ate like she was eating for five people and slept like a log. But because I am a fit person, I always tried my best to stop her and always asked her to join me at the gym. At first, she did not agree but something happened that made her change her mind.

We were eating lunch at a restaurant when Fatima’s old high school mates walked in. I went to the restroom for a minute just for me to come back and see my friend in tears. I asked her why she was crying. She said they made fun of her because she was fat. I asked her if she wanted to get back at them. She said yes, and I told her she needs to lose weight so when they see her next, they won’t be able to say anything. And most importantly she needed to do it for herself.

So, after that day, my dearest friend became my gym partner and never allowed herself to gain weight. She also made sure she looked good for herself.

“That’s why I am in your life, but I have to ask, ‘did you know Udar and Ismail are best friends?'”

“No, I just recently found out. And I think Ismail only recently found out about me.”

“You mean Ismail only just found out too?”

“Yes, it was the day he came to visit Udar at work and…” Fatima says, but I cut her short.

“Wait, Udar is your boss?” I ask shocked.

“Yes, and as I was saying, I think Ismail never knew I was the one. That I was the one his friend almost married, even though he knew me.”

“What makes you say that? And wow! Udar is your boss?” I say finding it a bit weird that we both work for men we have a history with.

“I know how it looks. But anyway, I know because he came to my work and I bumped into him. I asked him what he was doing there. He said he came to see a friend, and that’s how I found out that Udar is his friend. On his way out, he came to say bye and said, ‘so all this time you are the Fatima Udar almost got married to and made him lose his inheritance.’ That’s how I found out he was good friends with Udar, for Udar to tell him about me. And it also meant he just found out who I was to Udar.”

“Oh, that makes perfect sense. I can’t believe Ismail said you took away Udar’s inheritance. Udar needs a serious knock on the head,” I say, folding my arms.

“I know you will be happy to give him one,” Fatima laughs.

“I won’t mind, but I must say our lives seem very cliché right now,” I say laughing too.

“I know right,” Fatima giggles.

“Anyway, I also wanted to ask you to talk to Abeela,” Fatima says.

“What has she done this time?”

Abeela is Fatima’s younger sister. The whole family refers to her as the wildcat. She loves getting into trouble, and every time her family can’t talk to her, they always come to me. Abeela and I are close even though her sister is my best friend. She is like the younger version of me, so we get along very well. She is 18 years old, so I am not surprised Fatima is complaining because she’s at that age when no one can tell them what to do.

“What has she not done? Please, I need you to speak to her about the ways she dresses these days. We tried talking to her, but you know how that goes. So please talk to her before you leave,” Fatima asks.

“I am sure her dressing is not that bad, but I will talk to her anyway.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome, but only if you get me some food,” I grin.

“Will you ever change?” Fatima says walking towards the door.

“No, I won’t.” I say to her smiling, before she steps outside.