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Married To A Fink. - Part 2





The intensity of the rain was high, water drops heavily disgorging, accompanied by strong wind and ice pellets that ricocheted , and the lighting and rumbling of thunder that emerged within intervals was bogey. 

Ameer was glad he finally made it home as he sat under the wheel before the front door of their mansion. He could not halt at the parking space as the intensity kept increasing. He had problems with been under the rain. Now as he sat, he knew he had to be as fast as possible to get to that door without getting soaked.

He finally summed up courage and swiftly opened the car door, alighted and ran to the front door and he quickly pushed his thumb on the bell button.
No answer.
He pressed again. The splashing water made him felt uncomfortable.
Then someone peeped through the spy hole. Thank God, he sighed.
Two minutes gone, no one opened the door. What was wrong? But Ameera saw him! He was half wet, and he began to shiver. He prayed it did not trigger his pneumonia.
He kept pushing the button, then started banging at the door. He had called her but she did not pick the call.

Ten minutes later, the door was opened . Her majesty had finally decided. He was all wet, and could feel the percutaneous penetration of cold as he shivered.
"Assalamu alaikum". He said as he went in.
He saw her move her lips in what seemed to be a reply. He ran upstairs, not asking her why she had refused to open the door. He ran to the bedroom, pulled off his wet clothes, then wore a thick white sweat shirt. He went downstairs to meet her sitting comfortably on a sofa, a plate with chicken bones and crumbs of rice in front of her. It was her first day of cooking and he was glad she did because he had been in a board meeting since in the afternoon and they did not stop until after ishaa prayers.
"But you peeped and saw me, why did you not open the door?" He asked her as she used a remote to change a channel.

"I never knew it was you. I only saw the silhouette of a pig and thought it was my imagination." She said without looking at him, but at the TV.
"A pig? Do I look like a pig?"
"Mallam Jatau, I was staying in peace before you returned, and if you have come to stir trouble, I will leave and go to bed. Bana son tashin hankali (I do not want trouble)." She vituperated.
Mallam Jatau? When did he become that?
Amar kept quiet, praying for refuge with Allah against Shaytan. He did not feel an acrimony was pertinent. He turned and saw expensive and beautiful set of plates on the dining table.
He was so famished he forgot her troubles at that moment. He could feel his intestines rumbling, and the shiver was now out of hunger. And it was the first time ,he would come back to find food on the table, like a normal married man.
He hurriedly moved to the dinning, drew a chair and sat comfortably ,aware that he was shivering and the sight of the chicken bones and crumbs of fried rice made him salivate.
He turned the empty plates, set the cutleries , drew the big food flask closer, uncovered it then paused: It was empty!
"The flask is empty." He cried out at once.
"What?"

"The flask is empty. I cant find any food."

She smirked, turned back to her movie.
"Please where is the food? I haven't eaten all day."

"And when did I become a baby sitter? Tell me where it is made obligatory for me to provide food for you because you said you got married to me, Mallam Jatau. You are not even grateful, I was considerate enough to cook for myself, saving you the trouble. What kind of ingrate are you? You want to eat, you built this house and you know the ways around better than I who is only a visitor . But in case you have forgotten, that is the way to the kitchen and you can use my utensils, ba matsalla,me rayuwa ( it's not a problem, what's life) ? We are neighbours, aren't we?" She turned back to her movie.

"Inna lillahi wainna ilaihi rajiun!"
Ameer felt his bile rise, a bitter taste in his mouth and found it hard to swallow , felt his head spinning and his hands clenched.

"Audhu billahi minashaytani rajim(I seek refuge from Allah from the devil)". He kept muttering, closed his eyes and allow a hiatus in his heart, trying to think of nothing, trying to imagine nothing existed in the world, just sand, water, air, light, and space and gradually he found that oasis.

He would not touch her, he would not act out of anger, only weak men beat up their wives. He had to be strong. This was a test from Allah and only Allah could make him pass this test. It was too much for him to bear.

"Thank you". He said and walked into the big kitchen. He stood still, then looked round, befuddled. It was still raining hard, and his wristwatch told him it was a few minutes after 11:00pm. Only if he had known, he could have bought some snacks . He stopped buying such things because she never accepted them from him.

He knew somewhere Amaar was having a nice time with his wife. That thought alone ameliorated his pains. At least, one of them was happy.
The truth was he did not know how to cook. He did not know where and how to start but he knew he had to do it. The hunger was intensive. This would make him get his provisions and teach him not to depend on her again.
He got a pot, poured some amount of water, put on the gas cooker and placed the pot on it. He rummaged round, got oil, salt, chilli, onions, seasoning, and beef then poured everything into the pot. He knew they were ingredients. He then poured three cups of rice inside, all at once, even though the water was yet to get hot.
Concoction!

Meanwhile, Ameera was lying on the king-sized bed, head on pillow and her teddy on her chest while she scrolled through her phone. She went back to the message for the umpteenth time, then she felt her heart skipped a bit.
He finally replied after a million years. It was a Whatsapp message:
"Hey"

With shaky hands, she quickly typed, "Haba Khamil, I text you every day but you never reply"

"What do you want?"

"You are breaking my heart"

"Are you in your right state of mind? You have the effrontery to talk about heartbreak!"

"You know it was not my fault"

"Whose fault? You broke my heart! You shattered my world! Now, you are married, why on earth do you text me?"

"How on earth do you think I can forget you?"

"You know I hate him! Khamil, it was you I wanted to marry."

"But it is too late now. You are married."

"Khamil, Please forgive me. I will leave this place, but not without a good plan. I cant leave on my own but I will make him do it. I hate him and I feel like killing him! I know he will soon get tired and send me away and Mom would not blame me."

"And what makes you think I still want you?"

"Haba Khamil! Please don't make me faint here. You know it is bad for a Muslim to commit suicide ko? Don't make me think of it."

"So you think I care, huh? You did not think of what state you left me."

"Please stop saying that. You know it hurts when everything I do revolves around you and you don't even know it. You know I can do anything to prove that you mean a lot to me."

"Are you sure?"

"I am."
"Then come and see me."

"What?"

"Come and see me and make love with me."

"Khamil!"

"That is what will prove that you still love me."

"But, it is not right, now."

"This is the best time. When you get pregnant, nobody will scold you. We will lay it on that dummy who agreed to marry a girl who loves him not."
"That is the problem."

"What is the problem?"

"We have not consummated the connubial knot."

"Ke dan Allah (tell me the truth for the sake of Allah)!"

"Wallah! I cant let him touch me. Khamil, you don't know how much I hate him."

"You mean he has not plugged my fruit? The one I was nursing before the idiot came."

"I am still keeping it for you."

"# Smiling# I love you bae! You are still my baby and I have forgiven you, bring your head let me bless you."

"Hehehe. Oh God! I haven't laughed for a while."

"Then we have to think of a way out. You must leave that house.I will think. When I get result, I will call you."

"If you call, and he is around, I will say Hannat and just keep quiet. I saved your number as Hannat."

"Now I am jealous!"

"Please don't be. Just plan and do it ,pronto!"

"Is the guy as rich as they say?"

"He is the richest in the house, richer than his twin brother. But I don't give a damn about his wealth."

"I will start thinking, please keep my fruit for me. Amana na baki(  I am entrusting it to you)."

"Angama yallabai ( done Sir)."

"Where is he right now?"

"Cooking" #giggling#
"What? Dont you give him food?"

"His name is not Khamil. I am not a babysitter."

"Brutal. Haba! At least you should give him food."

"So, you are not jealous, ko? You want me to be nice to him."

"I am jealous and its okay once you don't give him my fruit. You will start giving him food. Good food, it is part of the escape plan."

"What if he decides that I am changing and hopes things will be better."

"His decision is a complete balderdash ! I have started the inchoation of a plan as we speak. I am the king here and only my decision matters."

"I trust you."

"I love you."
"Hmmm"

"You should say it back!"
Khamil, I am still married now no matter how I hate him. Let us leave love out of it until I am free. I cannot say that to you now, we are not dating now but as soon as I am free."

"I understand. It makes me trust you the more. When a woman cheats on her husband with you, then she can do it to you if you marry her. Okay, officially, we are just partners in progress."
"Yes" #Giggling# "Partners in progress."
"Good night."
"Good night."

Meanwhile, Ameer was serving his food. It was steaming hot. He could not wait, he fanned it then took a spoon.
Wao! It was too salty, the rice looked bad, the ingredients were in total riot, he did not know if it should be called tuwon shinkafan jollof or what.
He could not eat it. He picked out the meat, washed them with water, ate then went upstairs to lie precariously at the edge of the bed.


To be continued
Married To A Fink. - Part 2 Married To A Fink. - Part 2 Reviewed by AbuZahra Ahmad on September 07, 2018 Rating: 5

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