Raza didn’t ask her why she threw away her old number. That was something that felt the best about him. He didn’t push, hound or ask her anything that she didn’t feel comfortable with. Apart from that one lunch, they had never talked about Adeel. She knew he would have listened if she told him but she didn’t and he didn’t ask and it was something that made her much more relaxed than if she had spilled her guts about everything.
They were sitting together at his place. She would often come over for dinner. Their wedding was still a few weeks away but she would come over now and then or they’d go out for an evening or a movie. They would always avoid family functions and chose to sit their evenings in at home. There was no physical touch involved in their relationship but there was something else. Something else that had never been there in her life in her previous relationship. Comfort. The ability to find comfort in silence, in conversation, in distance and in nearness.
He was flipping channels and they had ordered in some Chinese.
“Won-ton?”
“Stop asking me if I want food. I’ll keep saying yes and eventually I’ll explode.”
“You’ve barely eaten since you got here. Either you eat now or something starts eating you.”
“I – “
“Oh, look. Movie marathon! Kill Bill is on.”
“You like that movie?”
“Well yeah. The action is pretty cool. So much blood sprayed everywhere is always a reason to watch a movie.”
She’d heard a lot about it but never seen it. She settled down with him to watch Beatrix Kiddo tear apart her enemies one by one. She watched her kill them with deadly force. She watched her rise from the dead. She watched her battered body become whole, the loss of her husband, her child. She watched her learn and fight and come back victorious.
She was no Beatrix Kiddo. She had no fight inside of her. She couldn’t tell a kind, wonderful man that she was afraid of her enemy – let alone take a Hattori Hanzo sword and drive it through the man she hated with all her being. She was Fouzia Khadim, a woman who, with all her intellect, with all her education, with all her normality, lived with a weakness she could not fight. She was a woman who could not tell anyone, not even the therapist, no one, what had happened that night on the beach.
“Don’t you just love how some people can kick some ass? I’d do the same if someone murdered my wife and child. Kill them all.”
She smiled at him and died a little inside.
“I’m full. But I won’t say no to coffee. Want to go out and get some?”
“No, I think I should be heading home.” She got up and tried clearing up the table when Raza stopped her.
“Leave it, come on. The servant will take care of it.” He got up and brushed off stray rice off his shirt. “Plans for tomorrow?”
“I’ll let you know.”
She drove back home as fast as she could. She always drove back quicker than she drove towards Raza’s house. She was mad to still be afraid of a new relationship and she knew it. But most of these responses were involuntary. Like how she’d jerk if Raza so much as hugged her. She was getting better at being around him but she kept wondering how she would explain the cigarette butts. What would she say? It was not her fault, of course. But what would she say? What would the words be like, coming out of her mouth, when she would tell him about the two years she spent as a victim of a sociopath?
She stopped at the petrol pump to fill the tank for tomorrow. She parked the car at the shop stop and went out to get some credit for her phone. She came back to the car and before she could put the key in the lock, she felt someone dangerously near.
“You’re looking well, Fouzia.”
God damn it.
She turned sideways and he suddenly was closer to her than Raza ever was. He was still the same. The same French beard, the same distorted smile. The smile that never went up to his eyes. Now that she knew the things he was capable of, she saw nothing but the devil in his eyes.
“What – what are you doing here?”
He leaned against her car. “I was a little angry when you didn’t let me know about your new relationship. Do you not see how I could be angry about that?”
She tried to move away but with a swift movement he pulled her closer. His grip was so familiar, so painful, it made her want to scream. But she could do nothing. All around her strangers were happily getting into their cars and driving away. No one seemed to notice the terrified look in her eyes. No one could see the evil in Adeel’s grip. He loosened it for a minute and pinched her on the thigh.
“You don’t return my phone calls. I wanted to tell you all about Hina. You seem to have forgotten all about us, Fouzia. I don’t like that.”
“I haven’t. I haven’t forgotten about you. How could I possibly…”
“Shut up, you motherfucking bitch. You should be ashamed of yourself. Marrying when you’ve got a child.”
“What do you want? Tell me what you want or let me go. I’ll – I’ll scream.”
“No you won’t, whore. I want you to remember just how important I am to you. How you can’t let go of me whatever you do, wherever you go.”
He pinched her thigh again and she let out a little yelp.
He stepped back slightly. “I’m looking at you. I am always looking at you. And that little boy toy of yours. Don’t you forget that.”
He got into a car parked at a distance and drove off.
When she came home, she locked herself in her room even though she knew no one ever came in without knocking. She pulled out some clothes. Basic ones. Some underwear. Toiletries. Made two phone calls. Checked her bank account online. Scheduled three emails to be sent after tomorrow. Then she pulled out a picture of Hina and put it in her wallet.
Then she wrote a small note to her mother. She put it on the desk and climbed into bed. If it wasn’t for the sedatives, she would have dreamed of many things that she didn’t want to dream about. Thank God for sedatives, she thought. And then sleep took over.
(end of part nine)
