Songs for this chapter are:
I bet - Ciara
Sacrifice - Elton John
Zombie - Lecrae
The door opens with a bizarre force and I am left with the view of my elder sister, Yemisi who is holding her favorite pistol in hand along with my husband, Mustafa. Tears cascade down his cheeks as our eyes meet. I could tell just how delighted he felt from the depths of his heart to see that I was alive and safe but I was not happy to see him.
I wish he never even went through the stress of looking for me because watching him make sacrificial deeds for my sake when I was far from deserving of it made my soul sink deeper than it already was in the chasms of ill feeling which aches me to term as "guilt".
I didn't want to feel guilty.
I was used to having people feel guilty about the things they did to me. People like my mother for example but looking at him alone did bewildering torture to my gut. It made the arms of shame itself squeeze my throat dry. Mustafa loved me dearly and ethereally but I made him bear the painful, cruel price for ever loving me.
He looked out for me genuinely because I mattered so much to him but all I did in return was to look out for his wealth and affluence because it mattered to the strong walls I was trying to build for myself.
After gathering and enjoying the surplus financial benefits of being Mustafa's wife, comprising of wealth that was beneficiary enough to help me start my very own empire, the last thing I wanted to feel was guilt. I just wanted to be happy in my own way and I'd done what I knew how to do to achieve what I defined as happiness.
But looking at him now just made me realize the things I never wanted to admit to. I had betrayed him grossly. I betrayed my one and only best friend. The only true friend I had managed to gain all my life ever since Krystal's death.
I thought I had Zoe as a friend but after everything that transpired in high school with me getting to know her true color, I knew she was best to be left at arm's length but Mustafa was a friend indeed and the roots of the friendship we once used to have took me down memory lane, reminding me of just how pure and genuine he was.
I could remember the day I accompanied him to the mosque for the first time. During that time of my life, I was still sore with the pain of Dan's cruel act (not like I ever healed completely from it anyway) but I was seriously grieving that time so I'd resorted into trying to get into a romantic relationship with Mustafa to get over Dan.
I was painstakingly depressed then but if only I'd paid detailed attention to the mirth and purity in Mustafa's eyes and lips, I would have realized that he was that friend I could ever wish for but I ruined everything.
"Do Muslims pray in any other position? I mean, can Muslims pray while lying down, sitting, and any other position asides from kneeling on a mat?" I asked him randomly that evening since he had been giving me a surprisingly interesting lecture on Islam and it had somehow helped me get my mind off my worries.
We held hands together, walking slowly towards the mosque just before the Arabic cries of the imam blasts through the megaphone, signaling the hour of prayer which had an Arabic name that Mustafa mentioned to me but I was quick to forget.
"Well, yes you can. It's called a dua but in my household, we are not allowed to pray in any other position. My elder sister, Aisha would always scold me whenever she caught me dozing off during prayer. But personally, I think Allah is a God you can call on when there is an issue that bothers you. You can call on his name at school or in a public place. You can't be carrying your mat with you all the time. You're not Aladdin."
"Well, that's really cool. I find it amazing how Muslims pray so much in just one day. Maybe if I come to the mosque more often with you, Allah would take all of my pain away, " I said with a wry smile after laughing at his joke.
"And even if you don't, I'd definitely pray for you and one day we would come to the mosque to have our Nikkai ceremony that's if we eventually get married but if we don't, you'd certainly still get a special position at my wedding ceremony because I love you so, so much."
"I love you too, Mustafa."
But did I truly ever love him? Since when did the genuine friendship we had that was supposed to last forever dissolve into a one-sided entanglement woven all for the purposes of selfishness?
The answer wasn't far fetched.
It was ever since that bastard turned my life into an unfixable heap of rubbish. It was ever since I started to gravely misinterpret the concept of love, relationships, and happiness.
Messed up.
Speaking of the bastard, my sister was standing next to him, with her gloves and notepad in hand as she examined Dan who was still laying on the floor but grunting loudly now.
Mustafa is standing just right in front of me, flowering my wet cheeks as more tears stream down his eyes but I am frozen, stuck at my stance, with my lips quivering traitorously, and my iris darting from one side to the other, totally unable to withstand the pure love seeping from Mustafa's gaze knowing fully well that I was never going to reciprocate to him.
"Are you okay? Did the bastard hurt you?!"
There he goes again with caring so much for me to the pointing of making my knees limp.
"Mustafa stop..." I said, unable to bear it any longer. He was making me feel so guilty without him realizing.
But apparently, my pleas fall on deaf ears and he is just about to wrap me in his arms when my sister speaks for the first time since she walked in with my husband.
"You shouldn't have hit him at all, Cass. If he had died in the process, it would land you in trouble and turn the table around in your disfavor. He was the one who abducted you and tried to assault you and the whole scenario should be against him and not against you—"
"Well...that's nothing much to worry about any longer since I'm still alive huh?! I'm not dying anytime soon. We have to get that DNA test so Farida can stay with the father that she truly belongs to." Dan's voice comes in between my sister's speech in a growl of pain.
His words infuriate me so much that I make a move for the first time since I'd been stuck on one spot to hit him even harder till he probably looses all of his dentition but I feel strong arms barricading in between by holding my wrist firmly and my sister sending warning glares my way.
"I think he's right, Cass. Let's get the DNA test done. The bastard sent a stupid text while I was at the company looking for you saying that Farida belongs to him. I think we should get the test done so we can prove the bastard wrong and we don't get to live our lives on the verge of captivity any longer although the idiot is going to jail, I agree we get a DNA test done so the bastard doesn't have any cause to threaten us."
"Actually, we should. My sister is certainly not at fault here and the bastard must pay dearly." my sister seconds.
But suddenly, it dawns painfully on me like a knife splitting down my back that maybe, Farida is actually Dan's child. Actually not maybe. The possibility was more visible than ever before because factually, I cheated on Mustafa with Dan multiple times, and now when the results of my actions are crystal clear, I can't own up to it because I'm in a deep shithole.
Ordinarily, I should find no problem in consenting to Mustafa's idea because it is indeed reasonable. In fact, I should be the one coming up with the idea but now that my kid most likely belongs to a bastardized individual and the idea is working completely against me, what do I do?
"What do you say, my love?" He asked me delicately like my reply would earn him the trophy of a lifetime.
"Well...y-yes y-you are right." I swallow thickly.
"That freaking settles it then! Hell yeah!" Dan grunts against and Mustafa's fists tighten but he decided to control his temper for my sister's sake.
"Alright, let's take him to the hospital!" My sister speaks with her usual air of finality. "ALBERT! GIDEON!" she calls out to her men who come running in with their weapons immediately at the sound of her voice and once they are in, she instructs them to lift Dan up so he can be taken into the van and onto the hospital.
"Let's go, my love. It's okay now." He runs his hand down my back, urging me to walk with him, away from the strange house onto his car so we can also go to the hospital.
But its really not okay. How the heck can it ever be okay that my child belongs to the adversary himself? The evildoer, the reason behind the mess I created, how can I live with him for the rest of my already miserable, pathetic life?
***
Psalms 55:12-14 - "For it is not an enemy who reproaches me; then I could bear it. Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me; Then I could hide from him. But it was you, a man my equal, my companion and my acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in the throng."