Page 10 of First Comes Marriage
After a quick shower, he got into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and made his way downstairs. The villa was silent as he looked around it, taking in the place properly in the morning light. He could see a small corridor leading to the room Daadi was using and on the opposite side was a kitchen, separated from the living area by a big island. The open-plan seating area was bright and airy, decorated in warm, earthy tones, and the back wall – much like it was upstairs – was made of glass, overlooking the pool and beyond that was a view of white gold sand and the Indian Ocean.
It looked tranquil and inviting and Zafar followed the pull of it and decided to sit by the pool after fiddling with the coffee machine and making himself another cup of it.
What was he going to do now? That was the big question on his mind.
He’d been practically dismissed by Reshma, given leave to go back home and get on with what it was that had kept him there in the first place. But he had to consider the fact that if hedidgo back, his father would demand an explanation as to why he was back and his wife was still out there. It would defeat the objective of coming out here in the first place.
If he put both those considerations to one side and asked himself whathefelt was the right thing to do, then the answer was simple. He needed to stay, not because his father had instructed him to and not because his grandmother had cajoled him to. He needed to stay because that’s what a supportive partner would do. Something Reshma did a lot better than him and something he needed to make a better effort to do.
He leaned back against the sunlounger, putting his feet up as he took a sip of the coffee, nowhere near as good as what Reshma made.
She managed to take care of so many details which were easily overlooked, but if he paused for long enough, he could see how she discreetly smoothed things every step of the way. And not once had she lorded it over him.
He hated that she’d found out the truth the way she had and was upset as a result. It was the last thing he had wanted. He needed to talk to her. She’d said so many things earlier and they alluded to hurts beyond him coming here because he had been forced to.
The sad thing was that despite over a year of marriage, he didn’t know a great deal about his wife. What were those hurts and upsets? Those deeper wounds of hers that he’d got a glimpse of this morning?
The ringtone of his phone interrupted his thoughts and he put his coffee down, seeing his friend Murad’s name come up on the screen.
‘Please tell me my business is still in one piece,’ Zafar answered.
‘You know, Zaf …’ Murad went quiet and Zafar heard a creak and then a slurp. ‘I feel like I ought to be offended by how little faith you have in me. But then I remember that I’m working with your brother, and your dad has been in the office since yesterday too, so if you can ask that question with them around, then what chance do I have? I mean, I am only your childhood friend. We’ve only known each other since we were in nappies.’
‘You missed your calling, you should be on stage in the West End.’
‘Funny. How’s Reshma? Happy to see your sorry mug?’
Zafar picked up his coffee and took a silent sip of it, buying time rather than being dramatic like Murad.
They had been friends since they’d been in nursery together. They had bonded over the moment they’d both decided that their teacher’s mustard woollen coat wasn’t the colour of their school uniform and had painted it green to match their sweatshirts. The earful they’d got, plus the heavy reduction in playtime, had meant that they’d never been caught in such shenanigans again, but they’d remained firm friends since. Murad had spent many holidays with the Saeed family and Zafar had spent similar chunks of time with the Aziz family. Needless to say, they knew each other very well.
‘She was, until she wasn’t,’ he said, part resignation, part frustration.
‘Huh? What’s that supposed to mean? Did you piss her off or something? Mind you, she doesn’t strike me as thekind of woman who can ever get pissed off. She’s as easy-going as they come. If only she’d met me first.’
‘She was chosen forme, not you,’ Zafar said sharply, Murad’s words bothering him, even though he knew his friend was joking.
‘Maybe that’s your problem.’
‘Meaning? I wish you wouldn’t speak in riddles, Murad. I’m really not in the headspace for that shit right now.’
‘Why don’t you tell me what’s happened? Because I can tell from your tone that you’re not relaxing and sunning it up on the beach.’
Zafar debated saying anything to Murad. His friend knew that his marriage to Reshma had been arranged, but they’d never had a conversation about the details of his relationship before. Though someone intuitive like Murad didn’t need to be told much to know when something was troubling someone. He had this innate ability to know when something was bothering Zafar and often had a nugget of wisdom to share alongside a big fat side of his own brand of nonsense. He was a complete romantic at heart.
Heaving a sigh and taking another fortifying sip of his brew, Zafar went on to tell Murad what had happened. He told him about his father’s blustering, Reshma and her family’s reception at his arrival, his mother’s irate phone call and then Reshma finding everything out the way she did.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Murad huffed.
‘Tell me about it.’ Zafar had finished his coffee and spun the empty mug in his palm. ‘I wonder if I should save us both the grief and just come home.’ He still wasn’t entirely decided on what he would actually do.
‘Don’t be daft. This whole thing happened because you didn’t go in the first place.’
‘And you would have? Knowing we’ve got that new hotel project to get under way?’ His frustration had him sniping at Murad.
‘Yeah, I would have. Nothing would be more important than my wife.’ He said it with utmost conviction, as though there was no question about it.
‘Is that why you don’t have one?’ He knew his friend had been in love, but whenever the subject came up, Murad skirted around it and moved onto something else or just shut the conversation down. Zafar didn’t even know who it was that had claimed a hold on his friend’s heart. Murad knew that whenever he was ready to talk about it, Zafar would listen.
