Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 35

Azar hands the car keys to the watchman and enters the guest house, glancing over his shoulder to check if I am coming. As I enter the front porch, I find Azar talking to another man.

"You got all of it?" Azar asks him.

"Yes, sir," he replies.

"Thanks, you can leave then," Azar pays him, and he leaves.

I ignore the flight response that is triggered in me and drag myself inside. Azar locks the door, and it worsens my anxiety, but then I tell myself to relax. It's just Azar. You should be mad at him. You are mad at him. Why are you just thinking of what you did? You were amid an episode. What excuse does he have?

Azar slides open the glass door of the sitting lounge, and I enter with more confident steps than before. He takes the plastic bags from the small dining table at the corner of the lounge, pulls a chair for himself, and sits down.

"Why are we here?" I ask, feeling courageous, but my voice fails me.

Azar doesn't even look up from the bag he is digging through, and I assume he didn't hear me. "Make yourself comfortable," he says, taking out a packet of chips. "There will be no one else coming here."

That doesn't assure me. Not one bit. "I am fine the way I am," I resist steadily.

Azar looks up at me, and I avert my gaze. "I want to see you when I talk," he says, but I don't respond. He sighs, throwing back in the bag whatever is in his hands, and turns so that his full body is facing me. I remain rooted in my position.

"Do it, or should I?" He sounds so calm, but I feel afraid.

I reluctantly put away my abaya and scarf and join him at the table. I manage to suppress the fear with my anger running in my head, and I decide to confront him anyway. I speak a little louder than I intended, "Why have you brought me here?" I lean on the chair kept across from his because I fear I will stumble if I don't have any physical support. "Is it because of the nightmare?"

Azar meets my eyes with a look of surprise which is oddly satisfying. "So, you do remember," he says in a monotone. "Figures," he mutters.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I am not answerable to your questions," he says, and I have an urge to punch him. Control, Abeer. He is way bigger and stronger than you are. Anger won't cover for your humiliation. "I am sorry, okay?" I admit. "I am sorry." I thought I was dreaming, I want to say but don't.

"I am not here to talk about your nightmare," he states bluntly. "If you were a keen observer, angel, you would have noticed that I hate it when people interfere in my life. I practice what I preach. I am not here to dig up your secrets."

"Oh really?" I don't believe him.

"I have brought you here because I want to tell you something," Azar continues with composure. "Sit down."

I obey despite myself and cross my arms. "Go ahead."

"I want to tell you why I really married you," he says the moment I sit down.

I unfold my arms, astonished as I wait for him to explain. Perhaps it's that I am attentive now I realize Azar looks a bit nervous.

"Let me tell you what happened after we separated our ways in school," he begins, fiddling with the plastic bag. "After our compound was separated, Mishal and I broke up a few days later." He pauses before he says, "Let me rephrase that. She left me." I furrow my brows in confusion at his words and the bitterness of his tone. Why would she if she still claims to love him? However, I don't interrupt and wait for him to continue.