Chapter 80

2K 499 68
                                    

*
Every movement caused Afrah to jump; every second his eyes spent watching her made her skin crawl. She didn't sit. Instead she remained where she was standing, her arms folded in front of her. Yusuf meanwhile had leaned back into the seat, sighing comfortably.

"What would you like to have?" he asked nonchalantly. "Some water, perhaps? I have some orange juice which still happens to be fresh. Or would you prefer a coke? I have some wine as well, but then knowing how close you and Adnan are, I'm sure he's taught you to stray away from fine wine. So, which would you prefer to have?"

"I would like to have my daughter back," Afrah replied.

Yusuf studied her for a few seconds before he chuckled.

"Of course," he said. "It's why you're here, is it not? As for me, I'd like a Bloody Mary."

He stood up then, stretched with a slight groan before he left the room. Afrah remained where she was, awkwardly staring at the stained walls with nothing but a single wall clock hanging on them. She thought about leaving the room to find out where he was keeping Hafsah, but then she realized it would be stupid to do that. He most likely knew the house better than she did, and it would be easy for him to trap her in a corner without her knowing.

She had to be smart about this.

He returned with two glasses of cocktail and a bottle of water.

"Don't worry about the walls," he said. "I keep this house in its state more as a relic than anything else."

"Where is my daughter?" Afrah asked when he set the tray down beside him. Yusuf looked up at her, frowning.

"Come now, Afrah, let's behave civilized. Sit down and have a drink with me. We can talk."

"I did not come here to talk," she said. "I came for my daughter. What did you hope to accomplish by taking her? Is it money you want? Or you want us to drop the charges against you? That can all be arranged."

Yusuf chuckled as he sat down, reaching for the first glass.

"If it was money I wanted, you wouldn't be standing here, Afrah," he said, taking a sip. "If I wanted the charges dropped, I would have spoken to my son. I called you here today because I wanted to speak to you."

"About what?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Afrah," he said, setting down the glass. "If ever there were two people who needed to have a conversation, it would be you and I."

"Fine," she said, walking towards the chair and sitting on it. She made sure to put as much distance between them as she possibly could, and she avoided his gaze at all times. It was easier that way.

"Now," he sighed, "where do I begin? Well firstly, I'm not going to apologize for what happened, if that's what you came here expecting. I don't deny the fact that things would have been better if it never happened, but that doesn't mean I'm remorseful. I should not carry any more grief than I've had to bear my entire life."

He shifted in his seat, coughing slightly.

"Once upon a time, I loved your mother very dearly, Afrah," he said. "Even now, as I sit in front of you, I still love her. And I cannot even tell you when that started. I suppose it was all back in the day, sometime during our childhood. But then, things changed. I had to put my own priorities first, and I don't think your mother ever truly understood why I left her. In her defense, I never explained it to her. But I'm explaining it to you now, so that at least there will be some clarity to my actions.

"I left to build a future for both of us. I regret doing so, but it was the only way I could make something of myself, for both our sakes. Unfortunately, it was the single biggest mistake I've ever made in my life.

Scarred For LifeWhere stories live. Discover now