The Twins chapter 18
It was already past Maghrib, and Zainab still hadn't seen Mubarak.
He had left in anger—wasn't she the one who was supposed to be upset?
Zainab sighed, torn between frustration and concern. What should I do?
Her thoughts drifted to her friends. She considered calling Zara first, but lately, Zara seemed disinterested whenever marriage topics came up. She would only say, "I'm happy for you," and quickly change the subject.
Instead, she decided to call Safeera and Safiyya. Safeera was the wisest among them, while Safiyya always seemed intrigued whenever she shared details about her married life.
She dialed their numbers for a video call, and as soon as they picked up, she explained everything that had happened between her and Mubarak.
"Bestie, did you just fight with your Mubarak?" Safiyya teased with a playful smirk.
Zainab sighed, not in the mood for jokes, but she ignored the comment.
"I heard everything," Safeera said thoughtfully. "Honestly, both of you were wrong, but I think you overreacted more. You should apologize and talk things out."
Zainab hesitated. "I want to… but I haven't seen him in hours now."
"Maybe he's out looking for the someone you told him to find," Safiyya joked again, laughing.
Zainab's heart clenched at the thought. Could Mubarak really do that?
"Safiyya, stop with the jokes," Safeera scolded gently before turning her attention back to Zainab. "Hmm… I think you should call him."
Zainab nodded. "Okay, let me try."
They ended the call, and she immediately dialed Mubarak's number.
Not reachable.
She tried again. And again. But each time, the call failed to go through.
A nervous feeling settled in her chest.
Without thinking, she found herself walking to the key collection and picking one of Mubarak's car keys.
She took a deep breath, grabbed her purse, and headed out.
If he wasn't answering, she'd find him herself.
Zainab got into the car and drove straight to his workplace. She had only been there once before, but Mubarak's company was well-known in the city.
He has to be there… right?
After returning to the office, Mubarak made it clear to everyone—he was not to be disturbed. No one was allowed to enter.
He sank into his chair, leaning his head back, eyes closed. His heart was still heavy, his mind replaying Zainab's words.
He kept muttering Duas under his breath, hoping to calm the storm within him.
Find someone else.
Was that really what she wanted? Did he mean so little to her that she could dismiss him so easily? The thought gnawed at him, filling his chest with an ache he couldn't shake.
Just then, a knock echoed through the office.
At first, he ignored it, unwilling to entertain anyone. But the knocking came again—soft yet insistent.
With a sigh, he opened his eyes, his jaw tightening.
Who would dare disturb him now?
"Leave!" Mubarak called out, his patience wearing thin. He had made it clear—he didn't want to be disturbed.
But the knocking persisted.
His jaw tightened as frustration surged through him. Someone clearly didn't value their job, he thought bitterly.
Pushing back his chair, he strode toward the door, ready to unleash his anger. With a sharp pull, he yanked it open, the harsh words already forming on his tongue—
Only to stop mid-sentence.
His breath caught.
Standing before him was Zainab.
She hesitated in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she searched his face.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, neither speaking. Mubarak felt the tension in his chest shift from anger to something else entirely—something he couldn't quite name.
"Zainab," he finally managed, his voice unexpectedly softer. "What are you doing here?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she made a small gesture for him to move aside.
Without thinking, he stepped back, allowing her to enter.
She closed the door behind her, sealing them inside.
"I came to apologize to you," Zainab said softly.
Mubarak's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he remained silent, watching her intently.
"Why?" he finally asked, his voice low. "Do you still want me in your life, Zainab? You just told me to find someone else."
Her heart clenched at his words. "Don't say that," she pleaded. "I do want you, Mubarak. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I should have been more considerate."
Before she could say more, he caught her off guard by pulling her into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, as if afraid she might disappear.
They stood like that for a few moments, feeling each other's warmth, the silence between them speaking louder than words. Mubarak had been furious, ready to stay mad, but now, seeing her effort to mend things, all his anger drained away. Instead, he felt their bond growing even stronger.
"I'm sorry too, Zainab," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I shouldn't have overreacted. I should have trusted you more." He pulled back slightly to look at her.
"Thank you for coming," Mubarak added sincerely. But then he looked at her, still puzzled. "Zainab, how did you get here?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
"I drove," Zainab answered, her tone casual.
"You drove?" Mubarak asked, clearly surprised. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, trying to process it.
"I took your car and came here," she told him simply, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Mubarak was taken aback. He knew Zainab could drive, but he hadn't expected her to take his car. He had once asked her brother, some months ago before their marriage, to prevent her from driving—especially since she wasn't yet 18. He'd been concerned, protective even, but now, seeing her so independent, his feelings began to shift.
"Thank you," Mubarak said quietly, his voice tinged with gratitude, as he watched her.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Zainab now avoiding his gaze, her head down in shyness. Mubarak, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off her.
Then, breaking the silence, Zainab finally spoke.
"What are we waiting for? I think we should go home."
They both stood up to leave, with Mubarak gathering his bag and phone. Zainab reached out, insisting on carrying something for him, but he gently refused with a small smile.
As they walked side by side, they chatted lightly, the earlier tension between them now replaced with warmth.
Just as they stepped out of the office, Mubarak's phone rang. He frowned slightly, wondering who would be calling him at this hour. When he glanced at the screen and saw his sister's name, he debated whether to ignore it. He could always call her back later.
But Zainab noticed his hesitation and gave him an encouraging nod. "Go ahead and take it," she said softly.
Reluctantly, Mubarak excused himself and stepped a few feet away to answer the call, leaving Zainab standing near a bookshelf in the hallway.
As she absentmindedly skimmed through the titles, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Well, what do we have here?"
She turned her head to see a man, likely in his mid-thirties, standing a few feet away. His eyes roamed over her, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Good evening, beautiful lady," he greeted smoothly.
Zainab immediately stiffened. Ignoring him, she adjusted her veil and shifted her gaze back to the books, hoping he would take the hint.
But he didn't.
"Please, reply to me," the man begged, his voice laced with desperation.
Zainab turned to him, ready to dismiss him firmly, but before she could utter a word, she felt a strong yet familiar arm wrap around her waist. A shiver ran down her spine, but at the same time, a sense of comfort washed over her.
She turned her head slightly and met Mubarak's intense gaze. He held her protectively, drawing her a little closer as he turned his attention to the man before them.
"What do you want?" Mubarak's voice was calm yet firm, his authority unmistakable. "Is this how you behave in the workplace?" His eyes darkened as he added, "She is my wife."
The man's face paled instantly. He stammered, his previous confidence now gone. "I—I didn't know... I'm sorry, sir."
He turned to leave, but Mubarak wasn't done.
"Not so fast, Jabir," he called out, stopping him in his tracks.
Releasing Zainab gently, he handed her the car keys. "Go to the car and wait for me," he instructed softly.
Zainab hesitated for a second, glancing between Mubarak and the man, but eventually nodded. She took the keys and walked out, her heart still racing.
She sat in the car Mubarak had driven, not the one she had come in. The minutes stretched in silence as she waited, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Mubarak emerged, his face unreadable as he got into the driver's seat.
The ride home was quiet. Neither of them spoke, but the tension lingered in the air.
When they returned home, Zainab served them dinner. Though Mubarak didn't eat much, they shared the meal before performing their Isha prayer together.
As they rose from prayer, Zainab stole a glance at Mubarak. The exhaustion on his face made her heart ache—he needed to relax.
Without a second thought, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
Mubarak froze, completely caught off guard.
Before he could react, Zainab looked up at him with unwavering sincerity. "Mubarak, I love you a lot. No one will ever take me away from you."
His breath hitched. He could only stare at her, stunned.
"I am all yours—body and soul. I promise to stay by your side. I have accepted our marriage completely. I want to live with you, stay with you, build a future with you, and, Insha'Allah, have children with you. No one will come between us. Insha Allah"
Mubarak felt his heart swell with emotions. Her words washed over him, dissolving every trace of doubt and frustration. Any lingering anger, any remnants of their argument, vanished.
He simply stood there, gazing at her—the woman who had just made him the happiest man on earth.
Mubarak was speechless, his heart pounding as Zainab's words sank in. He had wished for this moment, but now that it was happening, he found himself at a loss. His hands trembled slightly as he reached out, cupping her face gently. His eyes searched hers, looking for any hesitation—but all he saw was sincerity.
"I love you more, Zainab," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you so much." He pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he never wanted to let go. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."
A soft smile formed on Zainab's lips as she melted into his arms.
Mubarak took a shaky breath, as if the weight of his worries had just lifted. He pulled her even closer, resting his chin on her head. "Zainab, you are my everything. From the very beginning, it has always been you, and it always will be."
She pressed her face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Then promise me," she murmured. "No matter what happens, no matter what challenges come our way, you'll always choose me. No more doubts, no more insecurities."
Mubarak gently tilted her chin up, locking his gaze with hers. "I swear by Allah, Zainab, you are my only choice. No one else, nothing else matters—only you."
Her eyes shimmered with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words.
Mubarak tenderly wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek. "I was terrified," he admitted. "When you told me to find someone else, I thought I had already lost you. I thought… I meant nothing to you."
Zainab immediately shook her head. "Never, Mubarak. I was upset. I didn't mean it. I never want to lose you."
He let out a deep breath before pressing his forehead against hers. "And you never will."
A comfortable silence settled between them before Mubarak chuckled softly. "You really surprised me tonight, you know?"
Zainab smiled, playfully nudging his chest. "Good. You deserved it after making me worry about you all evening."
Mubarak laughed, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "I guess I did. But no more of that, okay? No more doubts, no more misunderstandings. From now on, we face everything together."
"Insha'Allah," Zainab whispered, sealing their promise.
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Expect another update of The Twins tonight, Insha Allah.
And Faking It will start tomorrow evening or the day after, consistently, Insha Allah.