Zoya took out her bunch of keys, holding a cake box in one hand. She ran through the keys to find the appropriate one.
She opened the door of her room. Threw her handbag on the bed, kept the cake down on the table at the side and peeked down the balcony. The entrance to the apartment was looking empty. She sighed.
It was past thirty minutes to seven in the evening. He has not come home yet.
She glanced at the cake, standing in the balcony.
"He could have messaged me at least," Zoya said as she unlocked her phone.
But does he even remember?
Zoya will not get mad at him. She has always been understanding and she will continue to be.
She threw herself on the bed. Thinking. And thinking. What if he really forgot? She did not want the day to be ruined at the end only because of her. She was so excited on her way back, while buying the cake.
The doorbell rang. Zoya's eyes widened in excitement.
She opened the door. To no surprise, Abir was standing.
"Sorry, got stuck in traffic," Abir gave an excuse. "Should we go out for dinner today," was his second sentence to make up for his disappointing behaviour. He thought this way he wouldn't get caught.
"But I already bought the cake."
"Oh," Abir said, sliding his phone out of the back pocket to check the reminder. It was their first anniversary. "No worries, let's just order."
The couple sat on their fourth floor balcony, looking at the moon, city lights. Talking softly, under the fairy lights and a dim light.
"How fast the time passes?"
"Hmm," Abir replied. One year had already passed and he was still struggling to find a reliable job while Zoya worked at a convenience store.
After a long conversation they both slept in the room.
Abir had a dream to become rich, just rich enough to afford each and everything.
Financial stability was absent in their relationship.
Abir was scolded by the owner of the shop he worked at, because that day, he had to go pick up Zoya, and came back late. The owner asked him to give priority to his shop.
Months back, Zoya requested Abir to shop with her, so that they could go as a couple to Zoya's friend's birthday party. His off-days were over and he couldn't take more. So, he slacked off from his job for that one day. But ended up getting scolded. He kept bottled up and took scoldings.
Abir blamed Zoya for all these, somewhere.
***
Zoya was in the convenience store for her day shift. A young lady in her mid thirties entered. She was on her phone talking, "when is the scheduled meeting? I cannot miss the investors." Seemed like she was a businesswoman.
Zoya wanted to start her startup. She wanted to sell cookies.
Zoya admired the people who ran their own businesses. They had to go through so much to convince and gain investors' trust. Once they do so, they become independent.
That lady placed the items on the counter. Paid the amount. Zoya said with a smile, "here is your change".
Zoya watched her as she left the store.
***
Abir did a job of giving out pamphlets. He would stand by the street, stop the passer-bys and hand the sheet of paper over. Some took it home, some threw it on their way, very few took it seriously.
After finishing the distribution of his pile, he sat by on the iron bench. He took out a pack of cigarettes and began to light up one.
"What? Alone?" A man of the same age as him walked over to him. He wore a branded sweater on top, hands in his trousers' pocket, walking confidently. It was his friend, Bob.
"Hmm. What happened to your eyebrows," Abir asked. Bob had a cut on his right eyebrow. He wanted to look cool. He was looking like a thug.
"Xing did this. He always said that he was good at haircuts. I took advantage of him. He did it for free," Bob boasted. "Looks cool right?"
"It suits your naughty looking face," Abir jokingly said, blowing out the smoke.
Abir continued while holding the cigar in between his fingers, "I think I will leave this job too. These things don't suit me. I just want to sit at home and do nothing, but Zoya," he sighed. "Zoya would never like me sitting at home."
"Brother, you sound like you are sick of her."
"A kind of, but who would give me the money after that. She at least gives me a part of the pension she receives. This is the reason I am still clinging to her."
"Just get yourself a new girl. Everything will be solved. If she is money loaded, then you don't need to do anything," Bob laid out a piece of advice.
"See me. My girl never lets me down. She will never let me go broke, even look broke. She even buys me all the clothes with her own money," Bob silenced after boasting off his new girlfriend.
"Wow, you are lucky to have someone. I don't get enough money to buy the branded shoes I wanted."
"Let's head to that club in the evening. I will help you," Bob smirked.
"'That club'? Which we went to last week? But I am shy. I don't know the right way to approach the girls," Abir said with a sad tone.
The last time they went to the club, the girl made a disgusted face. What wrong did Abir do? He just placed his hand on the girl's shoulder asked her where she lived. Maybe the girl thought he was a creepy stalker.
"Don't worry, bro. I said I will help you. I will buy you the drinks." Somebody shouted Bob's name and he stood up. "I will come along with my friends," said Bob and his voice faded as he walked away.
"Eight in the evening?"
"Done!" Abir nodded in response.