Ayesha At Last(95)

“How are you doing?” Ayesha asked, taking a sip of cola. “Your mom is worried about you. She said you haven’t left the house or talked to anyone.”

Hafsa shrugged. “Everyone’s still mad at me.”

Ayesha picked halal pepperoni off her pizza. “Have you apologized?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m an adult!”

“You didn’t behave like an adult. You disappeared without a trace. We were worried you were dead or being held for ransom.”

“My cell phone died. It’s not my fault.”

Ayesha gave her cousin a skeptical look. “Come on, Hafsa. You were mad, and you ran away and made everyone crazy with worry. You’re not a little kid anymore. You put us through hell, and for what?”

Hafsa looked down at her hands. “He said he loved me,” she said.

“Tarek wanted to hurt Khalid and Farzana, and he used you and the mosque to do it.”

“Nobody gets it!” Hafsa’s face was streaked with tears. “He lied to me. He used me.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I was too embarrassed,” she said in a small voice. “I thought running away would be such good fun. You all think I’m stupid.”

“Not stupid. Selfish and careless, maybe.” Ayesha eyed her cousin, exasperated. “Did Khalid break up with you?”

Hafsa nodded.

“And you were angry and ran off with the first pretty boy who looked at you.” Ayesha shook her head. “You’re better than this, Hafs. I know you are. You don’t need to be married to matter, you don’t need a man’s attention to be loved and you don’t need to run away to teach us a lesson. We love you, but you treat us like dirt.” Ayesha held her gaze. “You treat me like dirt.”

Hafsa dropped her eyes, quiet. A look of shame passed across her face as the truth of her actions finally seemed to hit home. When she looked back at Ayesha, her eyes were filled with remorse. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” she said.

“Promise?”

“I swear,” she said, looking around her room. “I swear on the colour pink, I’ll be better.”

She reached for the remote and turned on the movie. “Madhubala is totally hot,” Hafsa said, referring to the female star of Mughal-e-Azam. She was finished with the subject of Tarek, for now. “I don’t get why she went for Dilip Kumar. He looks so old in this movie. He’s no Shah Rukh Khan.”

“Shah Rukh wasn’t even born when this movie was released,” Ayesha said, settling down beside Hafsa.

Hafsa wasn’t listening. “The first wedding I plan will have a Mughal-e-Azam theme. Anarkali dresses and feathered caps and mirrors everywhere. The entrance song will be ‘Pyar Kya To Darna Kya,’” she said, referencing the hit song from the movie. The title meant “Why fear if you are in love?”

Ayesha smiled at her cousin, who was watching the opening credits of the movie closely. “I can’t wait to see it, Hafs,” she said. “I know it will be beautiful.”





Chapter Forty-Four

Are you sure about this?” Khalid was nervous, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror.

“Bro. Trust me.” Amir flicked a piece of fluff from Khalid’s shoulder. “Say bismillah and go.”

“I feel ridiculous.” Khalid tugged on his tie, and Amir slapped his hand away.

“You look great. And remember: You’re still you, no matter how you dress.”

Khalid emerged from the bathroom in the lobby of Livetech and walked to the reception desk, his heart pounding.

He smiled at the receptionist, a grouchy gargoyle named Sandra who hadn’t looked twice at Khalid in the five years he’d worked there. Today, she straightened up when she saw him approach, reaching up to adjust her hair.

“Hello, I’m here to see Sheila Watts,” he said, smiling widely.

Sandra flushed and licked her lips. “Sure thing. What’s your name, honey?”

No one had ever called Khalid “honey” before.

“David McGyver,” he said.

“You can go right up. It’s the third floor, second door on the right. Ms. Watts is expecting you.” Her eyes followed him to the elevator, and he waved at her as the doors closed.

Stick to the plan. Amir had been very insistent. Clara had made the appointment, Amir had equipped Khalid with the audio recording and image upgrade so he looked the part of a client, but the rest was up to him. He resisted the urge to pull off his tie. How did people dress like this every day? He felt so restricted.

Sheila stood up and held out her hand to shake when Khalid entered the office.

“David, so nice to meet you,” she said, smiling.

He hesitated for only a fraction of a second, then firmly grasped her hand and shook. Sheila didn’t recognize him until she looked into his eyes, and then she froze. Her expression tightened as she took in the familiar-looking stranger.

Khalid was dressed in a crisp white shirt with jet-black cufflinks, a skinny paisley tie with matching pocket square and a brand-new navy blue suit, slim cut to emphasize his tall frame. His hair had been closely cropped, and his beard, untouched since he had started growing it in tenth grade, was neatly trimmed.

“Khalid?” Sheila said, not believing her eyes.