Solice Cafe suffocated Aisha as she stood across from Mansur. Her eyes never left his face, and his smug smile irked her. A few tables away, her friends sat, both of them sending murderous glares his way.
"I'm sorry, but have you hit your head or something?" she snapped, crossing her legs and blinking to moisturize her eyes for the second session of the murderous glare.
"I'm fine," he said in a straight voice. "You know I miss all of this - you, I miss you, and I don't want to miss you ever again."
Aisha was beyond shocked when her mother called her and told her that the man she was supposed to marry was her ex-boyfriend - the man she had seen in all his colors, the bright, the dull, the multi.
"Look at this man!" she exclaimed. "What do you think? It's over between us and please go get your stupid ass elsewhere. Don't you dare go to my father again."
She wasn't the one who ended their relationship in the first place. She had thought, really thought, that someday they would get married, but he came to her one night and just like that, indicated that his family wouldn't appreciate her and she was so mad that they broke up the next day, just like that.
Mansur's smile never wavered, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. "Aisha, please understand—"
"Understand what?" she interrupted, her voice rising. "That you're trying to win me back after dumping me without even a proper explanation? That you're now engaged to me because of some arrangement with our parents?"
Mansur's eyes dropped, and he nodded slightly. "I know I hurt you, Aisha. But I realize now that I made a mistake. I want to make it right."
She scoffed. "You want to make it right? By marrying me against my will? You're even more selfish than I thought."
The cafe patrons began to stare, drawn in by the intensity of their conversation. Aisha's friends watched with bated breath, their faces reflecting their support for her.
Aisha's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through the dimly lit cafe. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air, but she couldn't appreciate it. Her focus was solely on Mansur, her mind racing with thoughts of their past and present.
"Aisha, please listen—" Mansur's voice was laced with desperation, his eyes pleading for a chance to explain.
But Aisha wasn't having it. She crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her skin as she struggled to maintain her composure. "No, Mansur. I'm done listening. You had your chance and you blew it."
The cafe patrons were now openly staring, their whispers and murmurs creating a background hum. Aisha's friends, Beni and Zima, sat rigidly, their faces reflecting their support for her. Zuma's eyes flashed with anger, while Beni's expression was more sympathetic.
Mansur's face reddened, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Aisha, you're not even willing to hear me out? After everything we've been through?"
"Everything we've been through? You mean how you dumped me without explanation? How you're now engaged to me because of some family obligation?" She laughed bitterly.
Mansur's eyes dropped, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know I hurt you, Aisha. But I realize now that I made a mistake. I want to make it right."
Aisha's gaze never wavered, her voice firm but laced with a hint of sadness. "You want to make it right? By marrying me against my will?"
Aisha's mind wandered back to their past, the memories flooding her senses. She remembered the way Mansur's smile used to light up her world, the way his laughter made her feel alive. But most of all, she remembered the pain he had caused her, the feeling of being discarded like a used tissue.
With a deep breath, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present. She knew she deserved better than someone who only wanted her because of some family obligation. She deserved someone who loved her for who she was, not for what she could offer.
With a firm resolve, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the cafe. Her friends followed closely behind her, their faces reflecting their support and admiration.
They stepped out into the bright sunlight, Aisha felt a sense of liberation wash over her. She knew she had made the right decision, no matter how difficult it was. She was ready to move on from Mansur and find someone who truly valued her.
But as she glanced back at the cafe, she saw Mansur's determined gaze fixed on her, and a shiver ran down her spine. She knew this wasn't the last she'd seen of him.
"The gut of this man!" Beni swore.
"To be sincere, I never liked him" Zima cried out dramatically.
"And you warned me about him every now and then. I was just blind, maybe hoping I could find someone who's not like my dad. And then I realized my dad is a man, and every other stupid, selfish monster is a man too!" She started sobbing.
"It's unfair that my father had to choose Mansur instead of all the other men out there."
Beni's expression turned sympathetic as she wrapped her arms around Aisha. "Oh, Ash, I'm so sorry. You deserve so much better than someone like Mansur. Your father should have seen that."
Aisha's sobs subsided, and she pulled back, her eyes red and puffy. "I know, Beni. I thought he loved me, but I guess I was just a pawn in his game."
Beni's face contorted in disgust. "That man is a master manipulator. He only cares about himself and his family's interests. You're better off without him."
Aisha sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper. "But why did my father choose him? Why did he think Mansur was the best for me?"
Beni's eyes narrowed. "Your father has his own reasons, Ash. Maybe he thinks Mansur's family connections will benefit him in some way. But that's not a good enough reason to sacrifice your happiness."
Aisha's eyes flashed with anger. "I'll never forgive him for this. He's supposed to be my father, not my jailer."
They were walking towards the parking lot when it dawned on her - there was no escape. She was marrying Mansur, her ex-boyfriend, the one who thought she wasn't good enough for his family. It settled in; her father would surely use her mother as a bargaining chip.
"I'm marrying Mansur," she froze, her head spinning. Her friends stood beside her with sympathetic eyes.
"You won't," Zima interjected.
"Even if he's the last man standing,"Beni added.
"You don't get it - Dad knew about the boys Mom brings home now and then. He damn well knew every boy she...entertained, and he did say it, not directly, but this morning when he arrived, there was this man, Adam, who was with Mom all night and you could just see how Dad looked at him. He just knew it and he would use it to get me to agree to this...whatever this is?" She paused, taking a deep breath.
She felt a surge of anger and frustration, her mind racing with thoughts of her father's manipulation. "I can't believe he's doing this to me," she said loudly. "He's using Mom's against me, just to get me to marry someone I don't love. Guys, I need a minute," she said to her friends, taking a step back. "This is all too much for me right now."
Zima and Beni exchanged worried glances, but nodded in understanding. "We're here for you," Zima said. "Take all the time you need."
She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head. She couldn't believe her father was resorting to blackmail to get her to marry Mansur. She knew she had to think fast, come up with a plan to get out of this situation. But for now, she just felt trapped and helpless.
Aisha stood at the door to her parents' house, wondering if she should go in or not. Her eyes had dried up completely, and she somehow felt guilty for spoiling girls' night for her friends. They had planned to go to the opening party of Beni's brother's club downtown and have fun. The whole thing with the marriage didn't deter her, but then it was Mansur - the excuse of a man. When her mother called her while they were at Zima's place, Aisha was shocked, but she didn't believe it at all. And when she called her father to confirm, and he did, it hit her hard. She was getting married, and to her ex, but that didn't faze her. It was the realization that all the men in her life were messed up that really got to her. All the men she had dated - it was just too much.
Here's the continuation of the story:
Aisha took a deep breath and opened the door, steeling herself for what was to come. Her parents were sitting in the living room, looking like they were waiting for her. Her father's expression was stern, her mother's apologetic.
"Aisha, we need to talk," her father said, his voice firm.
"I know, Dad," Aisha replied, her voice resigned. "You've arranged for me to marry Mansur, and you're using Mom's past as leverage."
Her father's expression didn't change, but her mother looked away, worry written all over her face.
"Aisha, please understand—" he began.
"No, Dad, I understand perfectly," Aisha interrupted. "You're willing to sacrifice my happiness for your own sake. Well, I'm not going to let that happen."
Aisha's heart was racing, but she stood tall, determined to take control of her life. She knew it wouldn't be easy.
"Say I marry the prick!" She walked around and sat opposite him. "What do you gain, Dad? I want to know what you sold me for first."
Shafi looked at her, his face darkening, his eyes reddening, and his mouth twitching for a couple of seconds before words tumbled out. "Of course, you had the right." He pulled an envelope from underneath the sofa and threw it her way.
She picked it up from where it fell, broke the seal, and found a couple of pictures of her mother in compromising positions. Aisha's face contorted as tears started falling from her eyes.
"What's it?" Her mother asked, standing up and walking around to get to her, but Aisha was quick. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, her father grabbing her mother to stop her from seeing what was in the envelope.
Aisha walked to the kitchen, lit the whole envelope on fire, and watched as the flames consumed it. "Who could do such a thing?" she thought, her mind racing with anger. "Who could want to destroy my mother's reputation so badly?"
"MANSUR!" she screamed loudly, her eyes fixed on the burning envelope. She used her hands to turn it over, making sure every last bit of it was gone, not caring about the pain that shot through her hands.
Aisha's scream was met with silence from the living room. Her father's face was pale, and her mother's eyes were wide with fear. Aisha's hands were burning, but she didn't care. She was consumed with rage and a sense of betrayal. She turned to her father with blazing eyes. "You're no better than Mansur," she spat, and walked past him to her room.
Silence reigned in their household that night. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. Aisha's mother was left in the dark about whatever was in the envelope. But she knew that the silent exchange between father and daughter indicated only one thing. Mansur had something on the family and something specific about her.
Kudrath had lived in fear all her life. She was raised in the south by a man who cared less about her and a woman who left when things got heated. She had grown up in an abusive home and the reason she tolerated Shafi was that he made her feel safe. With him around or not, she felt safe and invincible. No man would harm her as long as she had him, not her father, not her brother, he protected her and he would for as long as they live.
Kudrath's mind raced with thoughts of her past and her present. She knew she had to confront Shafi, to demand answers about what was going on. But she was afraid, afraid of what she might learn, afraid of what might happen.
She waited until Aisha had gone to bed, then she crept into the living room, her heart pounding in her chest. Shafi was sitting in the dark, his eyes fixed on some point in front of him.
"Shafi," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What's going on? What did Mansur have on us?"
Shafi sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Kudrath, I didn't want to hurt you or Aisha. But I had no choice. Mansur has something on me, something that could ruin our lives."
Kudrath's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?" she demanded, her voice firmer now.
Shafi hesitated, then pulled out a small folder from his pocket. "This," he said, his voice barely audible. "This is what Mansur has on us."
Kudrath took the folder, her hands shaking as she opened it. What she saw made her blood run cold.
"Do you know Hassan Jameel?" he said in a deep, husky voice. Kudrath lost her voice, she couldn't say a word to save her life. She knew him very well; she used to go out with him, but that was long ago, before she even met Shafi.
"I killed him, stabbed him to death," Shafi's voice sounded disturbing.
"Why?" she asked, but the answer was right there. Hassan was a bragging prick, and she knew him so well. And her husband had no patience at all, not when it came to her. He had killed once because of her, and she watched as he stabbed her brother, putting him in a coma. He would do anything for her, anything, but not when it came to his mother, the old hag who forced Kudrath to leave, and he didn't say a word.
Kudrath's mind raced as she stared at Shafi in horror. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her husband had killed someone. And not just anyone, but Hassan, her ex-lover.
Shafi's eyes seemed to bore into her soul, as if daring her to confront him. But Kudrath was frozen in fear, unable to move or speak.
"You knew him, didn't you?" Shafi's voice was low and menacing. "You knew him, and you didn't tell me."
She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "I...I didn't know he was still in touch with you," she stammered.
Shafi's laughter was cold and mirthless. "Oh, he wasn't. But Mansur is. And he's been using it to blackmail me, to get to your daughter."
Kudrath's eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. Mansur, Hassan, Shafi...it was all connected. And she was caught in the middle, trapped in a web of secrets and lies.
"What do we do now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Shafi's face was grim. "Easy, Aisha marries Mansur"