Caged Nightingale

45-Saara.

I wake up to the sound of muted buzzing.  It's in the afternoon, although im not sure what time. Still groggy, it take me a couple of seconds to get my bearings. I look around the room till my eyes fall in the direction of the intercom display near the bedroom door. The sound goes on and off incessantly and as i get up, i can see the image in the display is of the front gate. Two people are arguing. One looks like Zain and the other a woman. She keeps slipping past him and hitting the bell. I can see Zain is trying his best to keep his hands off her. Holding them up to try and get her to stop and blocking her way, but she seems agitated.
I think carefully for about 2 seconds, placing my forehead on the wall next to the intercom, before pressing the button quickly 'let her in!' I say in as sharp a tone as i can muster, knowing Zain will listen.
I can't bear someone treating another person badly. In this heat, no one should be outside.
Zain looks directly into the intercom camera and is about to say something but then thinks better of it. He rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration and then nods to the woman and steps to the side to open the gate and let the driver in.
I don't bother dressing. I'm wearing pajama shorts and a white linen t shirt which is crumpled. I know i look shocking. My hair is messy and face bare. The normal me would never leave my bedroom like this let alone parade around in front of guests in this. But i actually dont have the motivation to do an outfit change.
We seem to enter the lounge at the same time. Her from the front door which is on the right and me from the staircase, which is to the left.
We stand maybe 10 feet apart and it becomes apparent we are completely different.
I know immediately that this must be Atif's ex-girlfriend.  Who else would bother storming in like this? Zain stands behind her and i nod for him to leave. He doesn't want to, i can tell by his hesitation and sideways glance at the woman, but he does what i ask.
Then i turn my attention to the woman. Dressed in a sleeveless pale pink tunic and 3/4 capris, killer nude high heels. she is svelte, beautiful and preened to perfection. Her hair is glossy and thick and hangs in perfect caramel waves over one shoulder. Her makeup is perfect for daytime: Light and nude. She stands at least a foot taller than me. She raises an arched eyebrow at me in surprise.
'So its true!' She says. 'You're Atif's wife?'
I don't answer her, i simply turn to the sofa and take a seat. Motioning for her to join me.
'Anushe.' I say as way of acknowledgment.
She seems satisfied that i know who she is and joins me. She sits stiffly. Back straight and ankles crossed, with her hands folded on her lap, over her purse.
I sit with my feet curled under me and arm on the head rest, facing her.
'Would you like some tea?' I ask, even though I'm pretty sure she'll say no.
She shakes her head, and then bites out a 'No. Thankyou.'
I signal the maid to  bring some for me anyway.
At this range, Anushe just stares at me.  The disbelief is written all over her face. I can't blame her, Atif went from her to me! I look like a hobo.
My hair is a mess, clothes dishelved and i look like i fell out of bed- which i  did.
I can literally see the cogs turning in her mind- she just can't comprehend what she is seeing. Most likely she expected someone who would be beautiful like her.
'He's an absolute bastard!' She says finally. 'Heartless and ruthless. You'll see for yourse-' she stops abruptly and turns to me.
'I know.' I say smiling lightly. 'That side of him comes out occasionally!'
'Well you're lucky it's only occasionally. When he gets bored, he'll just throw you away-he doesn't think twice! He's messed up, in the head. You'll see-'
I don't respond. A couple minutes pass and she stops and gives me the once over again. 'Has he- he hasn't..... He hasn't forced you has he?!' She says suddenly aghast. 'You know. I know he's a bit rough. ....' her words die away and she gives me a furtive look. Her eyes move from my face to my legs and I know she's taking in the faded scars.
I must look like ive been man-handled: Scruffy and disheveled.
I give her the what-do-think? look and she sighs in response.
'Its just,you don't look like- well i didn't imagine you to be like this!' She admits half honestly and half exasperated. 'When Sana told me, she said you were 'beautiful, stunning! But you look, well i don't know..  ' she is clearly perplexed. Perhaps she expected more.
Her words don't bother me. I know i look terrible, i give her a weak smile and she has the grace to look sheepishly back at me.
'You're really pretty.' I say 'just as pretty as i imagined. Atif must be blind!' I say and we both laugh.
'And dumb' she adds, i nod in agreement.
She gives me what looks like a sincere smile. 'Isn't this bizarre?!' She asks shaking her head. 'I didnt think this was going to happen.'
'Did you come for a fight?' I ask casually then shrug my shoulders. Women are women. Atif was going out with her before me. He was in the wrong. I cant change the past, but i can treat her better now. She deserves it.
She doesn't answer, i suddenly feel very sorry for her. She was completely blindsided. It must have been an unpleasant surprise.
We chat for a while and she asks how we met. I stick to the story Atif and I agreed on.  She seems genuinely disappointed. Perhaps she expected a great love story and drama. 'I didn't think he wanted to get married' she says reflectively.
'He may still change his mind!' I say quietly, and then in my mind-and live to regret it.
'No' she says picking up the tea cup and saucer, 'he wont. If there's one thing I've learnt about Atif, its that he has tunnel vision. Once he sets his mind to something -he's like a freight train. He wont stop.'
I think about this. It doesn't remind me of the Atif i know. He seems to go with the flow. Relaxed. Compromising.  Maybe he has changed. 
I think about the clothes, jewellery and unopened bags upstairs. I don't appreciate anything. Anushe would. She would most probably relish and savour every single thing. She is a better fit here, better than me.
I can't fathom why Atif chose me over her. She's stunning, feisty and as sharpe as a button.  She seems ok. Of course she has every right to feel disgruntled about the way things have unfolded.  Just because Atif and I seem content with each other, doesn't mean there were no casualties.
The silence is occasionally punctuated with her questions which i answer briefly.
'Oh god!' She says suddenly, moaning out loud. 'I really have the worst luck. First Atif and now i can't even have the satisfaction of hating you!'  She laughs. 'Why do you have to be so nice?' She gives me an envious look.
I give her a weak smile and wonder how fortunate she is not have to live this lie I'm living.
But again i am left with a feeling that something is amiss.