A kiss stamped into her neck and then she was in his lap again. She collapsed on his chest, still catching her breath. Her free hand went to his belly button and trailed lower but he caught it.
“Mmm?” She protested, wiggling closer to his groin. But he caught her hips, keeping her away.
“Amaal.”
“What?” She blinked her eyes open slowly, looking at the dark world outside their window through the sheer curtains.
“Go to sleep now.”
“But I want to do this to you…”
“Sleep, now.”
She protested half-heartedly but he lay her down, turned her on her side and got to his feet. She closed her eyes, exhausted. He returned and pushed her pillow under her head, pushed her other two cushions between her knees and she felt her shawl land over her body. Amaal opened her eyes groggily, in time to see his groin. His shorts weren’t tented. She squinted, trying to make sure she was seeing it right as he tucked her shawl around her.
“Sleep peacefully.” He murmured, stroking his palm over her hair and moving away. Amaal couldn’t keep her eyes open, but the worry inside her wouldn’t let her sleep be peaceful. He was not ok. Things were not right with him and he was not sharing with her. He was snapping, but not sharing.
————————————————————
Her body was tired but her mind startled awake. Amaal stared at the dark ceiling, lit by the breezy turns of the sheer curtains. She heard unmistakable clicks of car doors in one synchronised rhythm. Atharva’s Z+. Amaal jumped to her feet and ran to the window. She wasn’t imagining it. Atharva and Altaf were walking inside the building, the cars lined up quietly on the road, security standing.
She rushed quietly to the bedroom door and found Samar in deep sleep. He hadn’t stirred yet, thank god. She pushed down the handle of his door and pulled it soundlessly close. Before Atharva could ring the bell and wake him up, Amaal quietly turned the latch and pulled open the main door. He was already on her floor, barreling towards her.
She put a finger over her mouth. “Don’t wake up Samar. What happened?” She whispered.
Atharva strode inside, leaving Altaf to guard the door. Amaal nodded at him and shut the door.
“Saba saw Iram!”
“Low!” She followed him into the hall and put on a small night light.
“That day when she escaped, Saba saw her, met her under the hospital and still let her go and didn’t tell us!” Atharva turned on her, looking like he was ready to commit murder. She had never seen him like this.
“How the hell did she let my wife go?!” He thundered.
“Down, he is asleep,” Amaal whisper-screamed, ready to throw something at his head if he yelled again.
“I am telling you that Saba saw her that day and let her go without telling anybody and you are telling me to keep it down!”
“Atharva, he is on sleeping pills. I swear if you wake him…”
“I’m already awake.”
They turned, and Samar was walking out of his bedroom, only his shorts from last night on. Amaal was surprised he hadn’t put his T-shirt back on after… even the thought made her blush.
Then she looked at Atharva, and frowned. Samar hadn’t put his T-shirt on even after hearing Atharva in the house. Was Atharva so special that Samar did not care that he saw him at his worst? Or was she not good enough, close enough, strong enough to see him bare? A bitter taste invaded her mouth at the thought.
“Sorry, go back to sleep,” Atharva said halfheartedly.
“Too late. What are you doing at 12 in my house? Screaming about Saba.”
“My Press Secretary happens to sleep on your couch and she needs to come with me.”
“Where?”
“This does not concern you,” Amaal ordered him, unable to hold back on her bitterness. “Go to sleep.”
Samar did not spare her a glance, and she seethed more.
