Dashtan seemed to be struggling with his necktie as Rakia walked into his room. "Oh, Hi, do you need help? Sorry for not knocking." Rakia smiled at the doorway of the room, to which Dashtan responded with a smile. Without waiting for the man's reply, Rakia went deeper and approached Dashtan and helped the man tie his tie. "I'm going to Dubai tomorrow," Dashtan told Rakia, who frowned for a moment. "Any important business?" asked Rakia, half curious and half not. Her hands moved gracefully to tie Dashtan's necktie. The man formed his lips into a straight line and nodded. "My father asked me to come because he wanted to talk about something." "You want to tell me?" Rakia was getting interested. She had finished with her tie-making. “It’s about Dalilah.” Rakia's gaze changed as she looked at the man; she was suspicious. "Did she do something out of control?" Slowly, Rakia began her talent as a journalist to pry for information. Dashtan exhaled. "It seems so, but I hope it's not
They passed by a month without significant problems for Dashtan and Rakia. Although Mr Reynaldi showed no signs of waking up from his coma, Rakia tried to stay strong and visited her father regularly in the hope that he would open his eyes and return to his old self. That afternoon, after Rakia got off work and was at the hospital where her father was being treated, her cell phone rang. “Yes, hello. Brand?!” Rakia looked unsure. “Yes, it’s me. Hey, can you come back to the office at six? We need to discuss something.” Her boss sounded unusual. Rakia realized something was up, and she wanted to know, so she agreed to the man’s request to come to the office at six. After hanging up the call, Rakia looked at the wall clock in the room. It was about half an hour later. She stood by her father’s side and looked at him with all the hope that he would return soon and open his eyes. “Dad, I’ll come back later,” Rakia said, leaving the room. On reaching home, she rushed to her room to showe
For the second time, someone broke her heart and her trust. If her nature had been human, she would already be battered, bruised, and currently in a coma. She was waiting to see if she would die or have a chance to live again. Rakia cried all night and locked herself in her room. After she fought with Dashtan yesterday afternoon, she didn’t leave her room for hours until Rakia made sure he was asleep; she decided to go out to eat and drink something. By then, it was three in the morning. Rakia rummaged through the fridge and found four slices of pizza; she took them out and put them in the microwave, after which she ate them with a glass of cold cola. Her face looked terrible, with swollen eyes and a red nose. She swallowed as fast as she could. The memory of her fight with Dashtan yesterday afternoon at her current place came rushing back. The fact that he broke his promise not to bring another woman into their marriage hurt more than the pain Benjamin gave him. The tears started a
They fought again when they met at home in the afternoon. Dashtan slammed the suit he had taken off his body onto the living room sofa when he saw Rakia passing by the living room and going towards the kitchen. He approached the woman who had also stopped waiting for him. He looked at Rakia with all the emotions mixed inside him. “Don’t make our relationship more difficult.” Dashtan began his attack. “Tell that to yourself. I’m just trying to make myself comfortable from the mess you made.” Rakia parried the attack so nicely that Dashtan was entirely surprised by it. It hit him hard. He stared at Rakia with his jaw set, his gaze sharp and intent on discouraging the woman. But Rakia changed quickly because of the circumstances that began to pressure her; she became immune to every threat. “So you’re going to hate me?” The question caused Rakia’s forehead to rise and her lips to a purse. She thought. “Probably yes, but I honestly thought of another idea.” Rakia responded to the curr
After Rakia returned from Peru, she found Dashtan and Dalilah arguing in the living room. They hadn’t noticed her presence, so Rakia had watched them say with a flat expression. While in Peru, she pondered whether to move into her new apartment immediately or wait for the right moment. She listened to the material debated by the two humans upsetting her lately. They still discussed Dalilah’s insistence on moving in with Dashtan and Rakia. “Ash! I’m your wife now, too, and we’ve agreed to go through with this until you fix your mistake.” Dalilah spoke with anger visible in her eyes. Dashtan sighed while Rakia was confused and wondered. “Did they discuss this while I was gone? Oh, my God... It’s a good thing I came back today.” Her mind began to nag. “Yes, I know that, but I can’t hurt Rakia by making you guys share a house and fight every day, I’m the aggrieved one here, this is my house and I’m free to decide who can live here.” Dashtan persisted in arguing. “Are you going to let
Dashtan helped Rakia move the woman’s belongings to his room. Rakia was arranging her clothes in Dashtan’s wardrobe, which was empty and unused by the man. When Dashtan had finished carrying all of Rakia’s belongings to his room, he approached the woman at his side of the room, which was a special place to store his clothes. He sat on the floor leaning against his other closed wardrobe near Rakia’s. “You don’t want to get a new wardrobe?” Dashtan tried to make conversation. “No, what for?” Rakia answered at once without looking at Dashtan; she was busy with her clothes. “It might not be enough for your stuff.” Rakia shrugged, reluctant to chat with the man, especially after the afternoon incident. To her, Dashtan was starting to feel a little stranger. “No need, anyway if this closet is not enough I can store my other stuff in my apartment. I’ll most likely move there too.” Dashtan snorted at Rakia’s words. He rolled his eyes and clucked, then reprimanded, “Rakia... I just want
By midday, Dalilah arrived at Dahstan’s house with a number of items she had brought from her home. Several men were helping her carry her belongings into the room that Rakia had occupied. Dashtan had told Mrs Hunt about Dalilah’s arrival, who would be staying at her house. The woman also helped the men Dalilah had hired to lift her belongings. While the people were busy stealing their belongings, she observed every corner of Dashtan’s house. She was checking the living room, where there wasn’t much stuff. There was only a piano and a sofa set, complete with a table in the middle, a flat-screen television, and a sofa in front of the TV with a soft, fluffy fur rug underneath. “Ma’am, everything is finished.” One of the men she hired to help her move in reported to her when their work was done. Dalilah went out with the man and gave some money to the man she had spoken to before he left. After the men left, Dalilah began to take out her clothes and organize them in the closet, along wi
Dashtan woke up first and looked ready for the office while Rakia was still getting dressed in the wardrobe room. As Dashtan came out of the room and headed towards the kitchen, he found Dalilah preparing breakfast. The woman turned her head when she saw Dashtan from the tail of her eyes. “Hi, come here, let’s have breakfast together,” invited Dalilah, who tried to look friendly and cheerful. Dashtan exhaled loudly. He stared at the two cups of coffee sitting on the granite countertop and stared at the toast with scrambled eggs. As Dashtan approached the table, Rakia came and also closed the table. The woman stared at the breakfast spread on the table. Dalilah looked at Rakia with a nervous gesture; to her, the woman was like a ruthless despot. “Did you make it?” asked Rakia in a curious tone while looking at Dalilah. The woman nodded nervously; Rakia snorted and then passed from the table to the cabinet to make her breakfast. She took the oatmeal from the top cabinet and picked up