Chapter 63: "Trust to Test"

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First draft: October 8, 2021

Salma walked down the hallway, her eyes doubtfully glancing at the flowers in her hand with every click of the heel of her boots. As if these visits to the hospital were not nerve-wrecking enough, she had to go ahead and do something so uncharacteristic as buying flowers for someone she did not really like. She was not sure if she should buy them, she was not sure when she was buying them, and she was not sure now that she had bought them. Flowers were not her thing, and somehow, she had both, received and bought, flowers on the very same day, in ages. Second-guessing her decision with every step she took, she walked towards the private room. A familiar blond, with ear-length hair and slightly aged face, came in view, standing in wait for her outside the room.

"When I heard those steps, I knew it was you," the older woman said with a motherly smile. "Never miss a week, do you?"

"It's no big deal, Mrs. Walker," Salma replied, feeling embarrassed. She offered the flowers. "I'm not really a flower-literate so . . ."

"Oh, that's so lovely of you," Mrs. Walker whispered earnestly as she accepted the bouquet. "She's going to love them!"

I highly doubt that, Salma replied in her head, but smiled politely at the kind lady anyway. Mrs. Walker did not need to know about their sore relationship, or the lack of one.

"How's she doing?" Salma asked.

"She's making a very good recovery," Mrs. Walker said excitedly. "And guess what, you're here just in time. She's really looking forward to finally seeing you!"

Salma felt a punch in the gut at those words.

"W-what?" She staggered. Mrs. Walker put an enthusiastic hand on her elbow to lead her into the room. "Isn't – isn't her therapy in progress?! I thought her physio--"

"Oh, they rescheduled," Mrs. Walker dismissed Salma's concern carelessly.

Rescheduled? Salma's heart sank as she stared at the door, shocked.

"When did that happen?" Salma asked, feeling helpless as Mrs. Walker grabbed the knob.

"Just this morning," she replied.

"Mrs. Walker?" Salma firmly planted her feet and placed a hand on hers to make her stop. "I think she needs to rest. She shouldn't be --"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Walker frowned playfully. "She's bored to her bones. You're one of the few friends that visits her – if not the only one – Like I said, she's really looking forward to seeing you!"

Salma barely stopped herself from making a crying face. How did she get stuck in such a situation? She had been so careful all this time. When did they reschedule the physio session? And why, on earth did that pesky nurse not know when Salma had asked just a while ago?!

"Lee?"

Salma's stomach churned with discomfort as Mrs. Walker put her head in.

"Guess who has come to see you?" she announced.

Wait, what? Salma frowned at the back of Mrs. Walker's blond head. Wasn't Lena supposedly looking forward to --

However, Salma's rant was cut short when the hand on her elbow pulled her into the room with it. A pair of cold, accusing eyes fixed her with a snake-stare. Salma felt a shiver run down her spine, but it was not because of the icy look in her eye, but how she looked overall. The gaunt-looking, frail figure on the bed, in a hospital dress was definitely not the girl that had passed one too many a snide comments at her in the passing. Her hair was neatly trimmed and styled, but her face was pale and sallow, her eyes sunken with heavy bags and lips almost blue. There were a number of pins and wires sticking underneath the scarf she had wrapped over her shoulder. They operated her for a multiple fractured bones in the shoulder. Losing function in her left arm and shoulder was not the only thing she had lost. She had clearly been through hell and back with that sniper shot.

"Hi," Salma said awkwardly.

"Look, honey! She bought flowers!" Mrs. Walker told her daughter excitedly as she put the flowers on the bedside table next to her. "Isn't that just kind?" She smiled at Salma.

Salma smiled back uneasily. As if Mrs. Walker's gratitude over mere flowers was not embarrassing enough, Lena's ice-cold silence made her feel even more uncomfortable.

"It's nothing Mrs. Walker," Salma repeated again.

"I'll go grab you girls some coffee, and let you catch up with each other?" Mrs. Walker smiled at the two girls.

"Thanks Ma," Lena muttered as her mother kissed her forehead and then hurried out of the room, still smiling.

Salma stood next to the door awkwardly, while the statue stared, not blinking.

"When she comes back, convey my apologies. I have some place to be," Salma said, feeling unnerved.

"Wait."

Salma's hand froze halfway towards the doorknob. She turned around to the same, steady, unforgiving stare.

"Don't forget the flowers," Lena said, jerking her head in the slightest.

Those darn flowers! Salma thought to herself. Knew I shouldn't buy them!

"They're for Mrs. Walker," Salma replied.

She was met by more silence. Lena just stared. The only difference was that now that stare was accompanied by a hard frown. Figuring out the meeting was over, Salma fidgeted, mentally debating if she should verbalize a goodbye or just leave, when Lena finally broke the silence again.

"Why?"

Salma's eyes snapped back at the statue.

"Pardon?" She asked. She was not sure if she had imagined Lena voice in her head.

Lena scoffed.

So it was real?

"You playing the nice girl," Lena said with a roll of her eyes. "Are blackmailing me emotionally? Trying to make me feel guilty and reassess my hatred for you?"

"Why?" Salma asked, her eyes narrowed. "Are you in need of such mental recalibration?"

Lena's jaw clenched.

"You're a cruel bitch and you know it!" she spat angrily.

Salma shrugged.

"Doesn't change anything, does it?"

"Makes you heartless to come here and torment me when I'm struggling to make it each day!"

"Look, as much as I feel sorry that you had to go through all this, it's none of my business," Salma said. "I really don't go where I'm not welcomed."

"Right?" Lena laughed sarcastically. "Because I basically sent you an invitation and carriage that forced you to come here.

"I know what it's like to be on that bed," Salma said simply. "And I know how hard it is for Mrs. Walker. You don't need my support. You're strong like that. Not her. She likes the idea of someone being there for her and asking about her troubles."

"My mother is strongest woman there is!" Lena said defiantly. "She doesn't need a pathetic excuse of woman around her."

"No," Salma replied simply. "She doesn't. Her strength is you and you aren't in the best of shapes right now."

Lena was caught off guard by Salma's words. Salma could tell she was holding back tears.

"If you want me to leave her alone in the lurch, by all means." Salma shrugged. "I'll make some excuse so she doesn't have to expect me next week."

Salma heard a sniff. Lena was blinking rapidly as she finally looked away from Salma. She was now avoiding her eyes.

The door burst open, disturbing the tearful silence. Salma turned towards Mrs. Walker, who was supporting two milkshakes in one hand.

"Here girls," she said. "I didn't know what you'd like so I got you what my Lee gets!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Walker." Salma smiled as she accepted a shake. "You really did not have to do this."

"Oh, it's a pleasure sweetheart," Mrs. Walker replied handing the other drink to her daughter.

"Thanks Ma." Lena forced a smile at her mother.

"You and your family have been so consistent in your support through these hard times." Mrs. Walker fixed the covers on Lena's bed unnecessarily. "One doesn't know how much they need that pat on the back when things are tough." She laughed sadly. "It's a huge deal when you get another person just making their presence known around you. Makes you feel less lonely and weak, I suppose."

"Ma!" Lena frowned at her. "It's going to be alright."

Her mother looked up and smiled through her tears.

"Of course it is." She patted her leg. "Now that my baby is making a recovery, of course it is!"

Salma took a sip out of her drink just to do something. She really had no clue what to do or say in such a heartbreaking and awkward situation.

"Anyway," Mrs. Walker straightened up. "Now that you are here, I can . . . err – you girls have a good time –"

"Mrs. Walker, I was just leaving. I have to –"

"You can stay," Mrs. Walker turned to Salma, an underlying pleading edge to her tone. "Lee loves a good chat. Here, come sit here." She pulled the chair next to Lena's bed. "Enjoy your drinks."

Salma looked between the mother-daughter duo before smiling at Mrs. Walker and nodding. She did not know if the sweet lady did not sense the tension between the two girls, or thought it was something they had to work out as friends.

"Thank you," Mrs. Walker whispered in the passing as she left.

Salma wondered if she feared for Lena's mental health in her solitary confinement to the four walls of the hospital room? Or maybe she was desperate for a break? It had been really hard for her.

Salma slumped on the seat, releasing a slow breath. She started slurping her drink.

"So how does it feel?" Lena scoffed. "Babysitting the person you detest?"

Salma laughed, shaking her head.

"Same as with the rest of the brats," Salma replied.

She heard a snort.

"I'm fine. She just worries too much," Lena said. "You can leave."

"I know I can," Salma replied, sitting back and resumed slurping on the shake loudly. "Let me finish the treat I got for visiting."

Lena made a derisive sound.

Silence.

"So how're you ravishing on the treat I left you?"

Salma glanced at her sideways.

"I'm talking about that dunce," Lena clarified.

Salma lifted a shoulder.

"He's alright," she said.

There was another silence. Salma glanced at her again to see her staring at her drink, thinking.

"I still can't believe you're staying with him?"

"Me too."

Lena's eyes snapped at her.

"He's not your type."

"Kind of agreed." Salma said. "Because I don't really know my type."

Lena studied her with an unreadable expression on her face. Salma could not figure out if she was confused, disgusted or taking a pity on Salma for staying with Zayn.

"What?" Salma asked when Lena did not think it impolite to continue staring at her even after a while.

"I just . . . Why?" she asked, looking at a loss for words. "He treated you horribly. The least any sane person knows is that that is not their type?"

Salma heaved a heavy sigh.

"If I say he worked his rear off to be where he's at, that won't work?" Salma asked.

"No." Lena shook her head.

Salma laughed.

"I don't know what else to say." she said.

Lena chewed on her lip, the same expression still clocked on her face.

"You appear to be a very upfront, dignified person," Lena said seriously "You seem rigid and stubborn in your ways, but flexible enough to accommodate others. You're tough when you want to be and soft most of the time. He's a complete imbecile."

"I'm really not sure if it's the drugs talking?" Salma looked at her weirdly.

Lena snorted. Salma smiled.

"What if I've seen glimpses of this upfront, dignified person in him?" Salma asked. "That he's rigid and stubborn in his ways but can be flexible enough to accommodate others. That he's tough when he wants to be and soft when he has to be, do you judge me to be an imbecile?"

"I just feel sorry that you're so innocent," Lena said, looking genuinely concerned. "That you can't tell he's just putting out a pretense."

Salma swallowed uncomfortably. It would have been easier to reply to that had Lena said it as an insult. Her concern was making Salma second-guess her confidence in Zayn.

"How do you even tell when a guy is genuine and when he's pretending?" Salma asked.

Lena searched Salma's eyes.

"You just do," she replied softly. "It's a gut feeling."

Salma stared at the drink in her hand. Was her gut feeling correct? Or was it snoozing and Salma did not know the difference between a good gut feeling and the lack of one.

"After my operation, I asked Char to tell you I needed a word with you," Lena said. "I thought I was going to die and I wanted to tell you to stay away from him.

Salma smiled.

"To protect me or to ruin him?"

Lena rested her head against the headboard and closed her eyes.

"Both," she replied. "You didn't come though."

"I did," Salma replied, "But your family was visiting so I left."

None of them said anything after that. Salma could almost feel the elephant sitting between them. Back then, Lena had probably asked to see her to tell her about Carmen's untimely death, which she believed was somehow Zayn's fault. However, it was a touchy subject and sensing Lena's hesitation to bring it up now, Salma did not want to address it either. Besides she already knew the story, various versions of it. Salma figured there was nothing good to be had discussing that tragedy.

"He asked me out on a date today," Salma said quietly.

Although she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the straw sticking out the lid of her milkshake, Salma was still strangely aware of Lena sitting up straighter, eyeing her questioningly.

"And you're telling me this because?" She raised a brow.

Inhaling a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Salma turned to face her undeclared rival fully.

"From one girl to another," Salma began. "What am I looking at?"

Lena took her time studying her. It was obvious that she was surprised Salma was seeking her opinion on the matter. To be fair, Salma herself did not know why she felt Lena was the person to ask about it, but she knew she was.

"A betrayal," she replied, her curious eyes never leaving Salma's. "A painful betrayal."

Salma felt her throat clog. She swallowed it, nodding. She released another shaky breath.

"How do I know if that's what I'm looking at?" she asked.

"Test him with your trust," Lena said. Her voice was quiet, but somehow it was like explosions piercing the quiet of the night air. "If he's gaining your trust to break you, give it to him to see if he'll strike at you with it."

***

First Draft: August 2018

Slowing down, Zayn turned the car towards this dirt road, thickly lined by trees on both sides. Salma looked around at the forest illuminated by the bright beam of the headlights, then at the moonless sky, before throwing Zayn a glance out of the corner of the her eye.

"So. . ." she dragged the word. "This is where you dispose of my body after killing me?"

Zayn chuckled.

"Clever choice to hide a body, isn't it?" Zayn threw her an amused side glance.

"If you're trying to scare me, it's working," Salma said. "However, I must warn you, what follows after I feel the need to defend myself is none of my responsibility."

Zayn laughed in reply, but stayed silent otherwise. Salma was further confused when the car came to a sudden halt in the middle of nowhere.

"Alright, this is our stop," he said, unbuckling his seat-belt.

Zayn got out of the car and opened the trunk to get the bag out. Salma peeked out of her window, feeling spooked. His idea of a first date was giving her the creeps. All she could make out was trees and the silhouette of a sign board. She squinted her eyes to read it. Jogging track, it read, with the arrow pointed to dark shadows on Salma's right.

Hoping she would get back home in one piece, Salma checked her phone before getting out of the car. She had a text from her mother.

Mum: You okay?

So far . . . Salma typed before hitting send.

She huffed moodily and got out of the car. Realizing they were alone, Salma pulled her niqaab down to be able to breathe a little easily in case she had to break into a run. Just then, Zayn joined her at the front, a bag hung on his back and flashlight in hand.

"Nope," he said, putting the flashlight, in his pocket. "Put it back up." He pointed at her veil.

"What?" Salma cried confused as she covered her face again. "I thought we were alone."

"We are alone." Zayn smirked, gently taking her hands into his and drawing circles on the back or her hand with his thumbs. "I just want to pull it off your face myself," he said quietly.

Salma's breath got stuck in her throat. She felt herself blushing furiously.

"May I?" Zayn asked.

Salma avoided his gaze, feeling her heart pounding embarrassingly loudly. She nodded.

"Umm, no! Bee, I didn't hear the reply," he said, tilting his head to get in her line of vision.

Salma inhaled a deep breath, feeling slightly annoyed by his unnecessary torment of her poor heart. She looked up to meet his gaze before replying.

"You may."

Salma was relieved to hear, her voice didn't quiver like the rest of her body was. Zayn smiled.

"Not!" Salma added, pulling away from him.

"Hey!" Zayn pouted playfully.

"Go ahead." Salma rolled her eyes.

Zayn awarded her with a radiant smile, making her heart flutter. He let go of one of her hands and reached for the cloth covering her face. Gingerly, he held it between his fingers and slowly slid it down. Salma felt her cheeks burning when Zayn brushed the back of his fingers against it. A shy smile kept stretching on her lips that she was desperately trying to hide.

"Thank you," Zayn whispered, barely holding back against pulling her towards him and claiming her lips with his.

Salma stepped back, breaking the trance.

"So, where're we going?" She cleared her throat.

Zayn sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"You'll see." He smirked mysteriously, turning the flashlight on and leading her towards the dark jogging track. "Come on!"

Author's Note:

Someone should scream bloody murder here!

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J.