Maher woke up to the deafening sound of a leaf-blower. He groaned slipping his pillow out from beneath his head and burying his head under it, tightly pressing on his ears. It didn't make the slightest difference. Despite his request, his neighbor makes sure to do all his yard work at 6:30 in the morning.
He had just got back from the airport an hour and half ago and he had to leave for work in one hour. He finally gave up and threw his pillow across the room. Still laying in bed, he picked up a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and placed one between his lips. He picked up his lighter that sat beside the cigarette pack.
Flick.
Flick.
After his third failed attempt, he threw it back on the nightstand. Rummaging through the messy top drawer, he took out a match box and lit his cigarette. He lay in bed for the next fifteen minutes smoking... hoping her face and his guilt would get lost in this smoke.
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He had been on his way to the airport when he met her. He missed his flight, but found a purpose; to redeem his father's wrongdoings.
He pressed the cigarette against his Hermès ashtray, putting it out before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom.
It was 7:15 and he was ready to leave. He poured himself a cup of stale coffee from his coffee maker and gulped it down, hoping the caffeine would get him to work safely. He fixed his tie one last time before grabbing his keys and heading out the front door.
***
She turned over her left shoulder as she recited Arabic verses.
as-salaamu alaykum wa rahmat-ullahi wa barakaatuh
She raised her hands and prayed to her Lord; prayed for her brother's life, and her parents' afterlife.
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"Saman!" She heard her brother call out and she quickly got up, rushing to his room.
"Jee bhai," she said as she walked into here paraplegic brother's room. He was holding a glass in his hand. "I'm sorry main paani ka jug kitchen mein hi bhool aayi," she added understanding what he needed. She brought the pitcher and poured him a glass of water before keeping it on the side table.
"I'm sorry," he said emphasizing on i'm. She knew exactly what he meant.
"Bhai, please," she spoke in a quiet tone. The door bell rang and she thanked God it did. She didn't want to think about this right now. "Majid aaya hoga." She said before heading out to answer the door. She came back a while later and spoke. "Mujhe kuch kaam hai, khana mainay bana diya hai, jab bhook lagay, Majid se keh dijiyega. main do teen ghanton mein aajaoongi." He nodded. "Allah Hafiz." She said with a little smile and he replied with the same.
She picked up her dupatta and draped it around her before grabbing her handbag and heading out the door. She got on to the bus and began her journey to yet another job interview. She was well-educated but and had adequate experience in her field it getting a job was still difficult. All their savings were coming to an end and with her brother's condition, she felt helpless. He didn't need a constant treatment or medication but he constantly needed someone.
Her 45 minute journey went by in a flash, with her being engulfed in thoughts, and she got off at her stop. The office was at a 10 minute walk from the bus stop.
***
"This strategy is going—" he paused to take a look at his ringing phone.
Hareem.
He switched his to silent mode and continued his meeting.
It was a long day at work. Client after client, Maher barely had any time to rest... and then there was her.
It was 11 at night and he was sat in his office chair, a cigarette between resting between his index and middle fingers. He went through his call log.
Hareem 12 missed calls
He had no idea why his sister was calling him at all, let alone 12 times. He had a couple of messages from her too. He opened one.
Maher, call me asap.
He knew it was either a wedding or a funeral and he was interested in neither. He didn't want anything to do with Salahuddin Khan or his children and he had made that very clear when he moved to Canberra a year ago.
"I'm done doing your dirty work for you. I'm done living with you. I'm done working for you. Ab aur nahi. This is where I draw the line. I'm done... I'm done with you, papa." He knew he was weeping. "I... I hate you."
He had begged his father that night, he had begged him to not order that hit. He had tried everything in his power to stop it from happening. That was the last time he had cried. Awake, at least. The nightmares were a whole different story.
