Chereads / Parted ways without a goodbye / Chapter 2 - Misunderstanding

Chapter 2 - Misunderstanding

He returned to his home after two days, and I greeted him farewell, in the hope of meeting him again.

A week later, while I was in my room, studying on the bed, using my bag as my bed table, the doorbell rang.

I could not care less, as I continued my immersive study session, my father welcomed his friends.

I did not even spare a thought, but my brain knew it must be his usual friends visiting him.

My eyes were glued to the book, as I scanned the page and recited it in my mind over and over again.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I did not notice him standing at the door, his hands carrying two heavy bags, wearing a hoodie shirt, staring at me.

"Zaid, why are you standing here? Come inside! Keep your bags here, and wash up, I will get the lunch really quick," my mother's sweet voice interrupted me, as my eyes ultimately looked in the direction of the door.

"Greetings! Aunty! I apologize for disturbing you," he spoke in a polite respectful manner.

I was dumbfounded, my room was a mess, every girl's nightmare was my reality. My crush got to see my messy room that day.

I was embarrassed but my mother wasn't, later when I mentioned it to her, my mother brushed me off saying it was cleaner than it had ever been.

I could not help but kept wondering for a long time if the outfit that I wore was embarrassing or if my bag was too dirty since we placed it on the floor in our clean classroom.

If my messy, entangled braid was too ugly, if my...bloated body looked disgusting.

He came inside my room and placed his luggage where my mother had pointed at him and sat across from me, with his leg crossed.

I had no idea if I should have felt happy or bad, for my impression that day was ruined.

Now that I think of those times again, I was being overly sensitive about myself, I was just too insecure. Suffering from an unknown illness, I was taking medicines that made me gain a lot weight.

If I look back, I think he hardly remembers what I wore that day or what my room looked like, because my teacher told me nobody remembers things that don't matter to them at all.

I was no different from others, it's just that everything was significant for me, and even today it is, if I should say, I cherish my moment more than I used.

That must be the impact I had in my personality for oversensitive to things since my childhood.

"I am sorry I disturbed you, I will leave in a few minutes, all the rooms are occupied by some other guests, so I have no choice," he explained.

"It's fine, I was just doing random revisions, I am already done," I spoke laughing to brush off the awkward moment.

"I guess, I should help my mother," I made an excuse to leave.

That excuse was quite expensive for me, as I had to work a lot beside my mother, who was exhausted as well.

I came back to my room with two cups of hot milk tea and biscuits and served them before him.

One was for him and another was for my brother, I turned to leave when he abruptly stopped me, "Aren't you going to have it with me?"

"No, I don't drink tea and I have some other thing to do, that tea is for my brother, he is coming to accompany you," I replied and took a long breath as I saw my brother entering the room.

A while later, when I was making the salad for lunch, he came into the kitchen to put the cups back.

He turned to my mother who was making flatbread and asked, "Should I help you?"

I was stunned and raised my eyes to steal a glance, as my eyes fell upon my overjoyed mother, "No need! You must be tired, go and have a rest!" She politely denied him.

I had lost count of how many times he had impressed me like that, a true gentleman, I would think how pleasing it would be to see him helping my mom out in the kitchen.

After lunch, he went out with his father and my father. They returned so late that it was only the next morning I met my father.

However, Zaid and his father were gone already, they had gone for a morning walk to a nearby park outside our apartment and only came back after midday.

It was again the time I was sitting with my book open, this time not actually studying but daydreaming.

"Studying again?" His emotionless, cautious tone snapped me out of the utopia I was wandering in.

"Not actually," I instantly replied with a smile, growing a little friendly with him.

"I was wondering why don't you watch horror movies, if you are scared of ghosts, you should watch more of the content, it will help you get rid of the fear," he mentioned this topic again, out of the blue, and I could almost not react.

But I recovered myself from the shock and as honest as I am to him, I replied, "We have always lived alone, I am a light-hearted person and get easily scared of such things, so I'd rather not watch things that would add into my wild imaginations about ghosts and witches."

"Well, you should try it out, you will be less afraid of such things," he tried to pursue me.

"Maybe, next time when you visit, we can watch a horror movie that you like together, so that I won't be that scared," I blurted out blankly.

I had no idea when I became that bold if he was someone experienced in matters like crush and love, he would obviously think of me as a clingy girl.

However, it never crossed my mind that he never thought of me as a girl, but as a human he met a few times in his life. Just a person, a mere person, maybe a nuisance.

It was sort of a proposal if one would think of it, thankfully, he was the same as a crush always is, clueless. I am sure he was as innocent as I was because, at that time, I blurted those words out with no hidden meanings.

"Yeah, sure!" His words of agreement appeared to me a contract of promise.

I was on cloud nine, another promise added to the list, I was unknowingly keeping a count of them, maybe my mind knew of the future beforehand.

Maybe my mind kept a list of those unfulfilled promises, that would act as fuel to the fire of dreams burning into ashes, sprinkling like salt on my wounded heart, to remind me of the foolishness over and over again.

He left again that night and came back after three days, this time it was me who opened the door, stunned to find him with father.

At times, I was suspicious of them, why were they visiting us so frequently? Was there something wrong? But I had no time to spare for overthinking something like that.

I had to leave for school, and other than a greeting that we exchanged; I did not have a chance to have a talk with him.

As I returned from my school, I found my mother in the kitchen only, my father and siblings were not there, and his father and him too were gone.

Finding a little time alone, my mother mentioned it to me in a serious tone, "They have gone to buy a car, Zaid's father is buying a car that is not available in our hometown.

"Oh?" I finally figured it out, I knew something was off. However, it was a good piece of news and had nothing to do with me, I returned to my room and took a nap.

I woke up half an hour after they had all come back.

After my mother was done serving the dinner, she found me for a little chat as she took a rest, sipping tea.

"I had not expected it from Zaid's father, he got a brand-new expensive car and did not even offer any sort of sweet to us.

Isn't he being a little ungrateful? Your father ran around back and forth helping me, but that man has never shown any sort of gratitude," my mother spoke, having no trace of hatred, but mere complaints.

Everything aside, my mother wasn't wrong at all, she was not a person who would bad mouth people, or make complaints for no reason.

She always had to serve one guest after the other, she never spoke a word of annoyance.

I nodded in agreement, just then I heard the tray being kept on the kitchen table, I jumped off the bed to sneak a peek.

But I did not see anyone, I returned to my mother and we talked about other matters.

A few minutes later, Zaid walked in with a huge box of sweets and politely opened it, and leaned it forward before us.

"We got our desired car, thanks to uncle," he spoke, gesturing to us to pick our sweets.

I took the initiative and took my favorite brown ball of sweets. My mother exchanged a cold glance with me and took one herself, "Congratulations!" She spoke.

He nodded his head, his eyes glued to the ground and returned back from my room.

"Did he hear us earlier?" My mother turned to me feeling guilty.

"So, what if he did? You said nothing wrong! As a son, he approached us rectifying his father's mistake, isn't it a good thing?" I replied, as I said I am looking for him, my words that I spoke to my mother don't seem like I do.

However, as honest as I can be, at that time, my heart, my soul, my mind, and my body agreed with the words that came out of my mouth.

My stupid heart may have been wishful thinking but my soul knew very well, only I did not, thus it reacted like that when my mother was sad, having said nothing but the truth.

I was not a person of opinions, as they all were rooted in my parents, whatever my parents thought and said formed my opinion. But, in the case of love and crush, likes and dislikes, I was clear on such matters.

I was quite young at that time to have such thoughts, but I guess now, I wasn't a person who dares to have a crush on someone, he or she can dare to have a clear stand for the long run.

For me, love was never a priority, my parents were, whatever I did, it was all for my parents, I had not much experience with love, but I knew my love for my faith and parents stood the highest.

I was considered heartless by my so-called best friends for being calculative in choosing a crush or someone I like. If I was cruel like they suggested, I was willing to take that title.

As they said, I chose to have a crush on Zaid, not only because he was a gentleman, but because our families were on good terms, and maybe in the long run, we could have a match.

It could have been the true reason, because, unlike love, we have a crush on anyone for a reason. But it wasn't the reason I liked him.

That was because I had met the few boys in my life, who were as polite as he was, as considered as he was, and he was the only boy who frequented our house, and the only boy I talked to other than my brotherlike male classmates.

There comes the saying- "There are other fishes in the sea"

However, I am afraid, I am looking for a fish in a desert, or maybe I am not looking for anyone at all.