“It was love at first sight.”
Her words make me frown. “Are you being serious?” I say incredulously.
I asked her to make a LOGICAL love story for heavens sake.
“What makes you think I’m not?” She says coldly.
I grunt. “Oh yes, forgive me for forgetting who I was talking to. You’re always serious.” I pause. “Serious and STUPID.”
She sighs in frustration. “Are you going to hear me out or not?”
My lips curl up at the feeling of deja vu. “Do I have a choice?”
Even though I can’t see her face, I know she’s frowning on the other end of the phone. “It was love at first sight, that’s why you decided to propose so early and wanted to get engaged by Sunday.”
I frown in confusion. “By Sunday?” Sunday is the day after tomorrow. “Why? That’s way to soon.”
“Just because.” She says with finality.
“Tch. Then don’t expect me to come over to your house on Sunday, asking for your hand and claiming to love you passionately.” I say casually.
She scoffs. “Don’t be petty.”
“Watch me.” I challenge.
She gives a frustrated sigh. “Fine. My parents have decided to not let me go to work starting Monday, till I’ve found myself a ‘husband’.” Her voice is dripping with irritation. “Honestly don’t know how they thought THAT’D work out.” She says icily.
For a moment, I have this urge to not propose by Sunday, just so she stays away from her work for a while, but I push the thought away and smirk instead.
“I mean, didn’t it?”
She doesn’t reply for a while.
My smirk widens. “Did I burst your bubble grump?” I tease. “Did you really think you were doing a good job of rebelling against your parents by marrying me?”
“Rebelling against my parents was never my intention.” Her voice is firm.
I tilt my head to the side. “Then what was your intention Ms. Haseeb?”
“My intention was to rebel against patriarchy. And I think I’ve succeded in doing so in every way and form.”
“You certainly seem to have built up your entire life around it.” I comment.
“I have.” Her voice is a small whisper, void of the reluctance and irritation it usually holds. But when she speaks again, it’s back to normal. “What about you though, what’s your justification for fooling your parents? It’s really a gold-digging ex girlfriend isn’t it?”
I frown. “I don’t have parents.”
There’s a pause. “You don’t?”
“You didn’t know that?”
Another pause. “No.”
I blink. “Mansha Haseeb, you proposed to me, decided to marry me and signed a contract with me, and you didn’t know my parents were DEAD?” I say incredulously.
“Well, it’s not like you ever told me!” She protests.
“Is this something I should TELL or something you should ASK someone?” I quip.
“I-” She stops, then after a moment of silence says, “When did they die?”
“When I was a child.”
“What happened?” Her voice doesn’t hold it’s usual edge.
But now mine does.
“It’s non of your business.”
Silence. Then, “Well my parents are alive.”
What?
“I was telling you just in case you didn’t know.” She clarifies quickly.
“I know.”
“Oh yes. We just talked about them.”
“Even if we didn’t, I’d still known because I did a back ground check on you.”
“Oh. Yeah that.” Another pause. “That was breach of privacy by the way. I could get you sued for that.” She snaps, probably having collected herself.
I resist the urge to mention how she’s perfectly fine with ignoring the threats, instead of suing the man for THAT.
I open my mouth to change the subject, but Mansha is already talking again.
“Anyway, back to the topic at hand, I don’t have all day….”
×———-×
“You can go home now Saleem.” I tell my guard as I get out of the car.
“Yes Sir.”
Remembering something, I turn back to him.
“Oh and Saleem?”
“Yes Sir?”
“We’ll be visiting land sites tomorrow, so try to go to sleep early.”
I shoot the poor guy a knowing smirk.
He looks away, embarrassed.
About a month ago, Saleem came back after taking a month long break to get married. Two days after his return, we had to go visit land sites, but after just 2 site visits, he was slacking behind and dozing every few minutes.
When the men there asked him what’s wrong, he wouldn’t tell.
So they concluded by themselves that it was because he’d been ‘busy’ with his new wife all night long and didn’t sleep at all. It turned out to be true since Saleem visibly turned red and started sputtering.
It’s been a joke among us since, and I tease him about it every time we have to go visit sites.
Laughing, I give the poor man a goodnight pat on the back, and go into the house, not at all ready to face Granny at the table and tell her the ‘big news.’
How does a man express his love for another woman in front of his Grandma anyway?
What will I say? How will I make her believe that her grandson who never even liked a single girl all his life, has suddenly fallen in love with one?
And wants to marry her. And yes Granny dearest, the engagement has to happen on Sunday, because I’m eager to finally call her my own.
No.
I can’t say that last part. Why would Mansha ever tell me to say that last part. What’s wrong with that woman?
“Khizer!” I swivel sharply on my heels.
“Granny! Hi.” I give her a smile.
“Why were you sneaking up to your room without even saying hi?” She puts her hands on her hips, piercing me with a suspicious look.
“Even if I was, I clearly didn’t succeed since we’re talking now.” I give her a peck on her soft cheek, where her fair skin sags with age. “Now, I’ll go change then we can have dinner ok?”
She makes a disappointed face. “But-”
“No buts Granny, I’m starving.”
She grumbles a bit, but then nods and shoos me off upstairs to my room to freshen up.
After taking a quick shower, I take my time putting on clothes and brushing my hair, my phone in my hand as I contemplate texting Mansha, to ask her how to begin the conversation with Granny.
But she’s probably even more clueless then me.
Cursing under my breath, I throw my phone on my bed, quickly comb my wet her and trudge downstairs, before Granny comes upstairs to look for me.