Chapter 16, two Stories
The next day.
By the time Zayd opened his eyes, it was already 9 a.m.-a rare occurrence for someone like him who hardly ever went back to sleep after Fajr. But last 2 night had been rough. Tossing and turning with little rest had left him drained, so perhaps the late morning made sense.
What didn't make sense was the emptiness in the room.
He sat up slowly, scanning the room, half expecting to see Anaya still asleep as she had promised. But she wasn't there.
Frowning, Zayd stepped out of the room and began a quiet search. He moved from one part of the house to another-the kitchen, the sitting area, even the backyard-but found no sign of her.
Just as he turned to head back upstairs, a glimmer of foil on the dining table caught his eye.
A plate sat there, covered carefully, with a small folded note resting beside it.
Zayd picked it up, his curiosity instantly piqued.
"Good morning. I made your breakfast. I'm sorry for leaving without telling you-I got a call about our project deadline being in 10 days, and I didn't want to disturb your sleep. Have a beautiful day. -Anaya."
He stared at the note for a moment, a little stunned.
She had cooked?
He was supposed to be the one making breakfast today-they had agreed on that yesterday. But she'd gone ahead and done it for him. A soft chuckle escaped him as a smile pulled at his lips. It was a simple gesture, but it touched him deeply.
He sat down to eat, grateful and quietly amused by her quiet thoughtfulness. While he was halfway through his meal, Rabiatu, one of the senior house workers who had just returned from leave the day before, passed by.
She was in her mid-thirties, never short of opinions, and never shy to share them.
They greeted each others.
"Zayd," she said with a grin, "you're the only one who ate this morning."
He glanced up. "Oh? Why? Is everyone fasting?"
She shook her head, waving a hand. "Not really. But... maybe Anaya didn't get the seasoning right. The food didn't taste the same. Not like Zeenat's cooking."
Zayd's smile faded, his expression shifting.
"Did I ask for your review?" he said sharply.
She blinked, startled by the sudden change in tone.
"If the food isn't to your liking," he added coolly, "you're welcome to cook your own."
"You, who always used to criticize our food, now enjoying it like it's a feast," Rabiatu muttered under her breath, not realizing Zayd had caught her words.
Zayd looked up, unbothered by her comment. "Maybe it's time you quit this job," he said coolly. "So that your Anisa and your her father can finally get all the attention the want."
"Oh no, sir zayd, that won't be necessary,"Rabiatu replied quickly, then mumbled again with a smirk, "They say love is blind, after all."
She walked away, her chuckle light but irritating, leaving Zayd shaking his head.
He didn't let her ruin the moment. He didn't care how the food tasted.
Just thirty minutes after finishing his breakfast, Zayd found himself pacing restlessly around the house. Though he had been given a break following the incident with Zeenat two days ago, staying home felt dull-especially with Anaya already at the office, fully immersed in work. He couldn't bear the quiet.
Without giving it much thought, Zayd got ready and headed to the office.
Once there, he made his way straight to Anaya's workspace. She shared the office with eight other team members-the very team he had helped her select on Monday. They were currently working on the layout for a real estate project, a plan that would take the rest of this week and the week after to finalize before it could be presented for approval.
He knocked softly on the door. To his surprise, Anaya was alone, bent over a large sketch spread out on the table, clearly deep in concentration. Her back was to him.
"Pass me that file on the table, Balki," she said, not bothering to look up, assuming it was one of her teammates.
Zayd blinked, slightly amused. She thinks I'm Balki?
He had no idea which file she meant, so he just grabbed one at random and handed it to her.
"No, not this one. I meant the-" she stopped mid-sentence, glancing up.
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Oh! Zayd, you're here?"
"Yes, Anaya," he replied, smiling.
They exchanged warm greetings, and then she turned her attention back to her work, her tone growing more focused.
"How's Zeenat?" she asked, sketching as she spoke.
"She's fine. Said she was able to get some work done from home."
"Masha Allah, that's good. May Allah ease her affairs," Anaya said sincerely. "We should check in on her after work-or at least, you should give me her number."
Zayd nodded. "Sure, I will."
He glanced around the office. "Where are the rest of your team members?"
"I'm not sure," Anaya replied, frowning a little. "They stepped out for tea break, but they're taking longer than expected. When I heard the door open, I actually thought they were back."
"Tea break?" Zayd raised a brow, amused. "Then what are you still doing here?"
"I'll take mine later," Anaya replied without looking up, her hands still busy sketching.
"Hmmm," was all Zayd said in response, before moving closer. "Let me see that," he added, starting to assist her with the design.
"By the way, Anaya... thank you for the breakfast," he said sincerely.
"You actually ate it?" she looked up, surprised. "How was it? Did I do well?"
"You didn't eat any?" Zayd asked.
"No, I was in a rush. I really needed to get this work done," she said, her eyes dropping back to the sketch.
Zayd frowned. "No, Anaya. I won't allow that. Work shouldn't come before your health. You shouldn't be skipping meals for this."
"Zayd, please," she said with a light sigh, not even pausing in her work. "It's my body, not yours."
He paused, slightly taken aback. "I didn't know you loved work this much," he muttered.
Anaya didn't respond, so Zayd let it go, thinking that eventually, when she got hungry, she'd eat on her own.
Not long after, her teammates returned from their break, and they all resumed work. Zayd, being the more experienced among them, helped guide the team through several technical parts of the project.
By the time afternoon arrived, the team had to leave the office for meetings with the legal advisor and the civil engineers. Anaya, along with three selected team members, went along, with Zayd driving them. Though they were all involved, Anaya was clearly the busiest-balancing communication, note-taking, and coordination-while Zayd provided steady support.
On their way back, they stopped to pray since it was prayer time. Afterward, Zayd suggested, "Let's stop somewhere for lunch."
"Zayd, we're running out of time," Anaya replied quickly. "I have until next week Friday to submit this entire project plan. I can't afford to slow down now."
Zayd gave her a firm look. "And what's that supposed to mean? Just because your deadline is close, you want to starve yourself? If you don't eat, others will. Right, Rabiu?" he turned to one of the team members.
Rabiu and another teammate both nodded. "Absolutely."
They stopped at a restaurant and sat down-Anaya at a separate table, while Zayd and the others sat together and placed their orders.
Zayd glanced over at her. She's impossible, he thought. So engrossed in her work, she doesn't even notice the world around her.
When the waiter brought their meals, Zayd stood, took his plate, and walked over to Anaya's table.
"Anaya, have something to eat," he urged.
She didn't respond, her focus buried in her open laptop and documents.
Zayd didn't wait. He scooped a small portion from his plate, and held the food near her mouth, and after a moment's hesitation, Anaya slowly accepted it, continuing to work with one hand as she took small bites. Zayd watched her, his patience running thin.
"Good," he said, shaking his head. "A workaholic."
She didn't respond, too absorbed in her tasks, but Zayd couldn't help but marvel at her drive. He served her the rest of the meal, feeding her slowly as she juggled her work. When he finished, he stood up and called the waiter over.
"One more, please," Zayd said, pointing to the food on his own plate.
____
By the weekends, Anaya and her team's schedule was completely packed with work and meetings. During those times, Zayd couldn't help but reflect on how much Anaya had changed. He no longer had any issues with her managing the house-she would often complete her duties even before he mentioned them, just to avoid him distracting her from her work later on. She would do whatever he asked without complaints, including the cooking lessons he used to give her every evening. Zayd was the kind of man who, once he made up his mind, expected things to be done.
But when it came to taking care of herself, Anaya seemed to fall short. Zayd had to constantly remind her to eat and pray on time-often feeding her himself. As for sleep, she would usually doze off while working, only to wake up already in bed, knowing without a doubt that Zayd had carried her there. And even though she never said much about it, she couldn't help but feel deeply grateful.
Now, Zayd was beginning to feel a little alarmed. Was this truly what drove Anaya? Was this her real passion?
Office Work?
___
It was Sunday, just after Dhuhr prayer, when Zayd returned home. A small smile tugged at his lips as he saw lunch neatly arranged on the dining table by anaya-Anaya was improving. As he made his way to their room, he noticed everything was clean and in order, exactly how he had asked before heading to the mosque.
But then his smile faded.
His eyes fell on Anaya, seated in front of her laptop, still typing away. Frustration began to rise in his chest. Without a word, he walked over and shut the laptop firmly.
Startled, Anaya jumped to her feet, visibly annoyed.
"What is wrong with you, Zayd? I've done everything you asked me to! Can you please just let me work now?" she snapped.
"Have you prayed?" Zayd asked, his voice calm.
"Yes, I have. Now give me back my laptop," she said, extending her hand toward it.
"What about food?" he asked again.
"I ate, okay? And besides, it's my body, not yours," she said as she stepped forward to grab her laptop. But Zayd pulled it out of reach, creating distance between them.
"Yes, you can handle everything," he said quietly. "But what about me? Who am I to you, Anaya?"
She said nothing, her irritation flaring in her eyes. He knew she wouldn't answer.
"For Allah's sake, Anaya, it's Sunday. It's the weekend." His voice was soft but carried weight. "I'm your husband. I want you to be present. I need your attention."
"Attention? Robot?" she echoed, blinking in confusion.
"Yes. Attention," he repeated firmly.
He walked to her drawer, pulled out her hijab, and handed it to her.
"I want you to find a way to balance your life better, Anaya. No matter the deadlines-you need to breathe too. Let's do something else. Not work. Even if it's just for a few hours. Let's go out. Somewhere. Anywhere."
Despite Anaya's obsession with work, she still left the house with Zayd. Today, they didn't go far-just a walk outside the house. At first, it was a silent stroll, Anaya glaring at him with every step, clearly annoyed for being dragged out.
"You're impossible," she muttered.
"Yes, I know," Zayd replied with a smirk.
"We used to do this with Zeenat every Sunday," he said after a while, trying to ease the mood.
She ignored him completely.
He just chuckled in response.
As they walked, he spotted a street vendor frying awara. He led her there gently.
"Would you eat this?" he asked, glancing at her face.
She said nothing.
He bought some anyway, adjusting her niqab slightly before offering it to her. "Please, try it. You might like it."
She hesitated, then reluctantly took a bite. Her expression changed almost instantly.
"It's good," she admitted, eyes lighting up as she continued eating. Zayd grinned and bought her more, passing it to her.
"Hey, but don't eat it here," he said gently. "It's not proper for a woman to eat on the street like this. Keep it till we get home."
They continued walking slowly, side by side. Zayd kept buying her different street snacks, each time reminding her, "Keep it till we get home."
Anaya nodded innocently each time, but the moment he looked away, she'd sneak a bite.
"Zayd, look at that street!" she suddenly said, pointing ahead. "Those trees and the building-they look really nice."
Zayd glanced in the direction she pointed, confused. "Anaya, there are no trees there. Just a building."
She smiled, shrugging. "Oh... must've imagined it."
That was how their conversation went-her distracting him with random comments while secretly finishing the food.
By the time they were nearing the house, Zayd turned to her. "I'm hungry too, you know. Let me have some. I didn't even eat before we came out."
Panic flashed across Anaya's face. All the food was gone.
She smiled slyly. "Then catch me and take it!" she challenged, breaking into a run.
"Anaya, stop! People are watching!" Zayd called out, chasing after her.
But she only laughed harder, running ahead.
As soon as they entered their house compound, Zayd caught up to her and grabbed her hands.
"Got you!" he said, breathless but smiling.
Zayd laughed and, without warning, scooped Anaya into his arms. She gasped in surprise.
"Zayd! What are you doing?" she protested, laughing as she pressed her face into his chest.
"You thought you could outsmart me, huh?" he teased, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"Please put me down," she said in a hushed voice. "What if someone sees us-especially that rabiatu. You know she won't keep quiet!"
"So what?" Zayd grinned. "You're my wife."
They both burst into laughter, lost in their light-hearted moment as they stepped into the house, still in the same position.
Zayd looked at her with amusement. "Anaya, I didn't know you could be this funny."
"And I didn't know you were this romantic. Now please drop me," she said, playfully squirming in his arms.
But then-a voice cut through the moment.
"What is this?"
They froze instantly, laughter dying on their lips. Zayd slowly turned his head towards the voice.
Seated in the parlour, Mrs. Raliya exuded an air of authority, her posture rigid as she sat beside Umar, who casually crossed his legs, his gaze focused on the table. The tension in the room was thick, and Zayd couldn't help but feel the weight of his step mother's presence.
Zayd carefully lowered Anaya to the ground, his hands lingering on her for a moment before he stepped back.
Mrs. Raliya didn't waste any time. "Is this what you're turning my house into?" she asked sharply. "Don't you know that private life should stay private?"
Zayd, trying to maintain some peace, responded calmly, "Welcome back."
Mrs. Raliya's eyes narrowed. "Welcome back? I'm very disappointed in you, Zayd. I didn't like what I just saw."
Her words were laced with judgment, her tone unforgiving. She went on, unable to hold back, her criticisms continuing in a monologue that bored even the house workers who had come to greet her. The air was thick with tension, and it was clear that her return wasn't welcomed by most-especially not Anaya.
Anaya, already irritated and exhausted by the situation, attempted to walk past Mrs. Raliya. But Mrs. Raliya wasn't done. "Hey, where are you going?" she snapped. "This spoiled brat! Your mother-in-law is back, and you don't know how to even greet her properly or offer her water?"
Anaya's anger flared, but she didn't have the chance to protest. Zayd reached out and gently but firmly pulled her towards his step mother. "Go greet her, Anaya," he said, his voice low but insistent.
Reluctantly, Anaya moved toward Mrs. Raliya and forced herself to greet her despite her discomfort.
"Go and bring her water," Zayd instructed.
Anaya did so, her movements slow and unwilling, the last thing she wanted was to cater to Mrs. Raliya, but she had little choice.
Mrs. Raliya barely touched the water, sipping a small amount before placing it aside with an air of disinterest.
"Mom, I'm thirsty too," Umar chimed in, shifting slightly in his seat.
Mrs. Raliya gave him a quick glance. "What about my son, Umar?" she asked. "Didn't he come back from his journey too?"
Anaya, already at the edge of her patience, was about to turn away when Mrs. Raliya gave her another command. "Go and get him something to drink."
Zayd turned to Umar, sensing the discomfort in the air. "Umar will get it himself, right?" Zayd said, his tone carrying a subtle warning.
Umar met his gaze and stood up immediately, understanding the unspoken tension. "Mom, I'll get it myself," he said, his voice respectful but firm as he recalled Zayd's warning about Anaya a few days ago.
The room fell into an uneasy silence as the weight of Mrs. Raliya's presence and demands lingered, leaving Anaya feeling more isolated and trapped than ever.
Mrs. Raliya looked away, clearly annoyed by the tension that had built up. Her sharp gaze shifted toward Anaya. "Anaya, go cook something for us to eat, but be quick," she ordered, her tone dismissive.
Anaya couldn't help but roll her eyes inwardly. Hmm, the witch is back, she thought bitterly. A part of her wondered how her life would unfold now with Mrs. Raliya's return. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand it. One of these days, Zayd will find his stepmother in prison, she mused, her frustration growing. Just one more week, she promised herself, trying to hold onto patience.
With a sigh, Anaya turned to make her way to the kitchen, but before she could leave the room, Zayd followed after her.
Mrs. Raliya's voice rang out again, her irritation evident. "Hey, must you follow her everywhere she goes? Come and sit down here, Zayd."