Chapter 11 The Twins 2
Unedited
Zainab and Lukman carefully examined the contents of the safe. Among the various items, they found a bottle of medicine. The label was blank—no information to be found. They continued to search through the contents until they discovered something else: a calendar, or rather, a timetable.
They were about to examine it more closely when they heard footsteps approaching. The sound made them freeze, fearing they were caught. But before they could react, Mrs. Amira appeared in the doorway, still dressed in her event attire.
Zainab quickly showed her what they had found, though they still didn't fully understand its significance.
Together, they pored over the calendar. It listed names—Zima and Mukhtar—and detailed a medication schedule: the pills were administered every two weeks. According to the calendar, the next dose was supposed to be given today. If they missed it, the document noted, Zima and Mukhtar would regain their memories in less than twelve hours.
"So that's it. They're giving them memory suppressants," Lukman stated, his face hardening. He grabbed everything, ready to leave.
But Mrs. Amira and Zainab quickly stopped him.
"No, please," Mrs. Amira urged. "Let's play this smart. If you take this to the authorities now, Salim will turn it against you. Let them regain their memories first. Once they do, they can testify against them. We'll have more leverage."
Lukman hesitated, his hand still holding the documents. Zainab joined in, urging him to wait, and after much convincing, he finally agreed.
The three of them carefully replaced the real medicine with something harmless—a simple vitamin. Lukman locked the safe again, and they left quietly, ensuring no one suspected a thing.
It was a quiet night, with the occasion winding down. In the garden, Salim and Zima sat at a table, dinner laid out in front of them. Asna was seated beside Zima, her plate untouched, but her presence ever-present. The three of them often used this time for intimate dinner dates, but tonight, something felt off.
As they ate and chatted, Salim noticed that Zima wasn't eating much. Instead of enjoying the meal, she was focused on feeding Asna, who had finished her food and was happily playing with a small toy. Zima only took small bites, mostly absent-mindedly, her eyes lost in thought.
Salim observed this, irritation creeping up on him. "This date is supposed to be just us, but you always bring Asna into it. Not that I mind her company, but can't you see? I even left Kasim inside tonight," he said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and reproach.
Zima looked up at him, offering a soft apology. "Oh, I'm sorry."
Salim's tone grew more serious. "So, is this how you're going to behave after our marriage?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. Zima remained silent, her gaze lowered, unwilling to meet his eyes.
It had always been like this—Zima, uncomfortable around him, never voicing her true feelings. She had learned long ago to comply with whatever he asked, always remembering how his family had "helped" her. Before his wife had passed, she had often been the bridge between them, but now, Zima was left to listen quietly, unable to escape the reality of her dependence on him.
Without her knowledge, Salim had quietly slipped her memory suppressant medication into her drink earlier.
Zima rose from the table, Asna in her arms, her movements sluggish. "She's sleepy. Let me take her to her room," she said, her voice soft but tired.
Salim's annoyance flared. "Come back and eat your food first," he commanded, his voice sharp.
Zima shook her head, still cradling Asna. "No, I'm not hungry anymore," she replied, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
"Okay, at least have the drink," Salim insisted, his voice firm.
Zima hesitated for a moment, but the weight of his gaze made her comply. "No, please..." she started, but he cut her off.
"Zima, do as I say," Salim ordered, his tone final, leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, she picked up the cup and drank the contents, the cool liquid slipping down her throat as she tried to suppress a shiver. After a beat, she turned to leave with Asna in her arms, her steps slow and uncertain.
___
Mukhtar sat in his room, hunched over his laptop, when he heard a knock on the door.
"Come in," he called, not looking up from his work.
Halima stepped inside, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Mukhtar quickly stood up, his expression shifting from focused to wary.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise as he raised an eyebrow.
"Relax, Mukhtar. I'm not here to bite," Halima replied with a flirtatious laugh, her eyes gleaming.
She walked toward him, placing a cup of tea on the desk. "Take your night juice," she teased, her tone light but insistent.
"Mukhtar, dear, you've been working hard. You should have something to keep you going," she added sweetly.
Mukhtar paused for a moment before accepting the tea. "Okay, thank you," he muttered, sitting down again, intending to finish his work. He expected her to leave, but to his surprise, she stayed.
"It's late already," he pointed out, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
Halima shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Yes, but once you finish the tea, I'll take it out," she replied casually.
Mukhtar took a few gulps of the tea, then handed the empty cup to her.
Halima didn't leave immediately, which only made him more uneasy. "With the way you're sending me away so quickly, I hope that's not how you plan to spend your life with me—always prioritizing work over everything else," she said, her tone teasing but serious.
Mukhtar sighed, his mind racing. "Sorry, Halima," he apologized, rubbing his temple. "It's just… this doesn't feel right. We're not supposed to be in the same room like this as an unmarried couple."
Halima fell silent at his words. Mukhtar, sensing her hesitation, continued, "But don't you think we should postpone this marriage again?"
She froze, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"I mean, let's get to know each other better first," he added, as if trying to soften the blow.
Halima didn't speak a word. Her heart raced with a mixture of anger and disbelief. Without saying anything further, she turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her.
She had already endured his indecision for three years, and now, just when she was finally on the brink of getting what she wanted, he was asking to delay again? No. Tomorrow, no matter what, they would be married. She couldn't let him back out now, not after everything she had worked for.
The next morning, Zainab woke up to the feeling of Afna gently touching her. She opened her eyes quickly, startled, and glanced at the clock. It was already 7 a.m. — she had missed Fajr. Yesterday had been overwhelming, and she had stayed up far too late. Afna only usually woke her up early when it was time for school.
"Afna, come on, let's go," Zainab said, slipping on her slippers and standing up in her purple night clothes. "I need to introduce you to your father."
She picked up Afna and walked straight to Mukhtar's room, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he had regained his memory by now.
As she entered his room, Zainab found Mukhtar still asleep. She sighed, thinking that he must have prayed and then returned to bed.
"Mubarak, wake up, wake up," Zainab called softly, shaking him gently.
Mukhtar's eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her, confused. "Who is Mubarak? I am Mukhtar," he said, his voice groggy but firm.
Zainab felt all the warmth in her body drain away. So, he hadn't regained his memory yet.
As soon as his gaze landed on her, his expression shifted, and he quickly sat up. "What are you doing here? Didn't the...?" His words trailed off as he noticed her, and his eyes lingered on her exposed face before he abruptly stopped.
Zainab, in a rush to leave, turned and ran out of the room. "Mrs...?" he called after her, but she was already gone. She had forgotten to cover her face before running out, and now Mukhtar had seen her without her veil.
"Maybe he still needs time," she told herself, trying to calm her nerves.
She rushed to Zara's part of the house, hoping that her sister-in-law might have regained her memory. But when she arrived, she didn't find Zara in her room. Instead, she found Zara in the kitchen, cooking, with Afna beside her.
"Zara!" Zainab called, her voice filled with hope.
Zima turned to her, confused. "What are you saying? And who is Zara?" she asked, her eyes blank and distant.
Zainab's heart sank, and without a word, she quickly turned around and left the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. As she left, she held Afna tightly
It was 10 a.m. — just two hours left until the wedding. Zainab and Lukman sat on the balcony of Mrs. Amira's room, each lost in their own thoughts, the tension hanging heavily between them.
"Two hours left, and they still haven't regained their memory," Zainab muttered, her frustration palpable.
Lukman didn't respond immediately. His mind was elsewhere. To him, there was no way he would allow his wife to get married again, especially right in front of him. He had tried to follow the plan, staying away from Zara to honor Mrs. Amira's wishes, even though he had a daughter. But now, nothing was working. It was time for Plan B — he had to leave with Zara, whether she agreed or not.
Mrs. Amira, along with Zainab and Lukman, decided to check on Zara and Mubarak, hoping to confirm whether they had regained their memories yet. But when they reached Zara and Mubarak's room, they found it empty.
They tried calling them several times, but no one picked up. The three of them searched the house, until they heard voices coming from the garden. They quickly rushed toward the sound, and what they saw stunned them.
"Who in their right mind would try to marry a married woman?" Zara's voice was full of anger as she confronted Salim, who stood a few feet away from her, his frustration clear on his face.
The atmosphere was tense. Zara stood beside Mubarak, who faced Halima, while Salim stood opposite Zara.
"Is all this a joke to you?" Mubarak's voice was sharp, his anger rising. "Do you think life is a joke? How could you two be so heartless? How could you poison someone just to take him away from his family?"
Halima shifted closer to Mubarak, but he stepped back, his eyes filled with disgust.
"I'm sorry, Mubarak," Halima's voice quivered as she reached out to him. "I was blinded by love. I thought... Please don't cancel this wedding now. I've waited so long for this. I promise I'll take better care of you than anyone."
Mubarak stepped aside, his face hardening as he rejected her offer. It didn't take long for Mrs. Amira, Zainab, and Lukman to understand — Zara and Mubarak had regained their memories.
Before they could react, the situation escalated quickly.
"You're even begging them?" Salim's voice was cold as he sneered at Zara. "After everything, no one will stop me from marrying you today," he added, his tone final.
This was the first time he called her by her real name. Before Zara could respond, Salim pulled out a gun, and Halima, with a manic look in her eyes, pointed a gun at Mubarak.
"It's either I make you mine today or no one's," Halima threatened, her eyes wild.
After all this time, Salim leaned in close to Zara, whispering, "You can't just slip away from me now, Zara. Not after all of this."
Mubarak, refusing to back down, stepped forward. "It's either you both accept to marry us, or you die here, and we bury you without anyone knowing," Halima hissed, her grip tightening on the gun.
"Halima, stop!" Mubarak shouted, his voice firm with resolve. He walked closer to her, trying to reason with her. "Stop this obsession."
Without warning, Mubarak wrested the gun from Halima's hands, disarming her with surprising ease. At the same moment, Zainab slapped Halima hard across the face, sending a shockwave through the tense scene.
Lukman, seeing the opportunity, snatched Salim's gun, aiming it at him and freeing Zara from his grip.
The standoff continued, the air thick with danger, as the gun was now pointed directly at Salim. "You should have stayed away," Lukman's voice was cold, filled with determination.
But Salim, backed into a corner, didn't seem afraid. Instead, he sneered, trying to maintain his composure. "You think this will stop me? This is just the beginning."
Zara, still trembling from the intensity of the situation, exchanged a glance with Mubarak.
With Salim and Halima being taken to the station, the wedding was called off. Most of the event place had been cleared out, and all of the twins' family had gathered at Mrs. Amira's house. Their family couldn't get enough of them.
At first, after everything that had happened, everyone was concerned about Mrs. Amira, whose children had been held captive. But she assured them all was well. She was the one who had even invited the twins' family, telling Zara and Mubarak earlier that they were no less than family to her. Lukman and Zainab thanked her a lot, and she asked the four of them to always come and visit her. She added that the kids were really going to miss Zara.
Everyone, from Hafsat, Yusuf, Alamin, Atika, and even Barakah—who was talking to Mubarak through video call just to confirm that her brother was really alive and healthy—was gathered around.
Zainab, who was seated far away from Mubarak, noticed how he was with the group of family, holding Afna in his arms, talking to Barakah. His attention kept going back to Zainab, stealing glances from her. Yet, they hadn't spoken. Zainab made sure to place herself between Atika and Hafsat to avoid him. Even when Afna was playing on the playground, Mubarak had to pick her up himself because Zainab didn't come anywhere near him.
Lukman went to Zara's room to find her already finished packing her things and dressing Asna. She was now talking to Kasim and his sister.
The kids kept asking her, "Aunty, are you going to leave us today?" They were really going to miss both Asna and Zara, and Zara would miss them too.
"Don't worry, mid-term will come soon, and you can move in to my house," Zara told them, holding back her tears.
She didn't finish speaking when Lukman came into the room. He took Asna from Zara's hands and left without saying a word. Zara wanted to follow him, to talk to him, but she held herself back because of the kids. Lukman had been ignoring her ever since Salim and Halima were taken away. She had tried several times to talk to him, but he kept walking away from her.
So, it was only his daughters that he knew—not her.
____
The night stretched on, and back at Alamin's house, after everyone had finished welcoming Mubarak and Zara home, Zainab had just come out of the bathroom. She was dressed in a flowing night-blue gown, her scarf carefully tying her hair. She stood by the balcony of her room, gazing at the sky, her thoughts heavy with the miracle that had just occurred. She had regained her husband, yet despite everything that had happened, she was still furious with the fact that her husband had almost married someone else.
Soon, Mubarak appeared in the doorway, carrying Afna, who was fast asleep in his arms. He hadn't let go of her since the return, and while he had tried talking to Zainab, she kept avoiding him, not giving him any space. So, he stuck close to their daughter, but now, seeing Zainab alone, he couldn't waste this chance.
"What are you doing here?" Zainab asked him sharply as he stood by the door. He didn't respond right away. Instead, he went over to the bed and gently placed Afna down.
"Please leave my room," Zainab demanded, her voice raising in frustration.
Mubarak said nothing. He didn't leave the bed or Afna's side, standing there and staring at his daughter, his heart swelling with love. He couldn't help but feel blessed.
"I said leave my room," Zainab yelled again, but Mubarak still didn't move. Furious, she went to him, intending to push him out. But before she could act, Mubarak was quick to respond. He grabbed her, pulling her close, and in one swift movement, she ended up falling on top of him.
"What the hell?" Zainab screamed, trying to rise, but Mubarak's grip was strong, holding her firmly in place. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, silencing her protests.
"What are you doing?" Zainab asked, her voice full of annoyance, feeling the warmth of his kiss against her skin. But as he hugged her, inhaling her scent, something inside her softened.
A word. How badly I missed you, Zainab... everything about you. Like, wow, Zainab, Masha Allah. Look at you, look at our daughter. I am so proud of you, my dear wifey. After three years, you look all grown up, more mature, responsible, and even more beautiful. I couldn't be prouder of you, Zainab," Mubarak said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Let go of me, Mubarak," Zainab told him, her breath shallow, though her words carried a sharpness. "You didn't think about that when you went there, entertaining some other woman as your wife-to-be, while I was here, mourning for you, thinking you were gone."
"Don't say that, Zainab," Mubarak pleaded, his voice softer now. "The marriage was never my idea. I have no excuse for what happened, but still… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Some things are just beyond our control. But know this—you are the only one I'm interested in, with or without your memory. You are always the source of my heartbeat, Zainab. Please, forgive me."
Zainab's anger wanted to hold on, but she found herself letting go. She missed him, badly. Slowly, she relaxed, wrapping her arms around him in return. "It's okay," she whispered.
"Does this mean you've forgiven me?" Mubarak asked, his voice filled with hope.
She nodded after a moment of silence, and Mubarak hugged her tighter, his joy overwhelming him. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, whispering, "I love you, Zainab."
"I love you too," Zainab responded, her voice full of warmth.
Minutes passed, the room silent save for the quiet sounds of Afna's breathing as she slept beside them. Mubarak held Zainab close, his heart full of emotion as he gazed at the woman he loved, and their daughter sleeping peacefully.
"For all these years, I always felt like something was missing in my life," he murmured softly, more to himself than to her. "Until now. You are my missing part, my missing pieces. I hope you and Afna can forgive me for not being here for you both all this time."
Zainab remained silent, her eyes closed in peaceful sleep. Mubarak watched her for a moment before a small smile tugged at his lips. He couldn't help but notice how much Afna looked like Zainab, and the thought made his heart swell even more. He loved both of them, mother and daughter, more than words could express.
____
That same night, the atmosphere in Alamin's mansion was calm and quiet. After the emotional return of Zara, Asna, and Mubarak, the house had finally settled into a peaceful silence. The family had been overjoyed by their return, but Lukman had remained distant. While he had spent the evening with Asna—feeding her, playing with her, and putting her to sleep—not once had he spoken to Zara. His silence spoke volumes, louder than any words he could have said, even though Zara had tried repeatedly to bridge the gap between them.
Zara stood at the doorway to his room, dressed in a maroon nightgown, a scarf loosely tied around her head, allowing some of her hair to fall freely—just the way Lukman used to like it. She stood there quietly, watching him as he adjusted the blanket over their daughter. The sight made her heart ache, knowing how much love he had for Asna, yet none of it was directed towards her.
"Lukman," she called softly, but he didn't respond. His back was still turned to her.
Stepping into the room, she spoke again, her voice trembling. "I know you're angry. But please, can't we be mature about this? After all this time, three years without you has been a burden, and it's been miserable. It's only now that I realize what's been missing. And you're the one, Lukman. Please, don't stay angry with me on a day like this."
Lukman finally turned around to face her. His gaze was sharp, reminding her, "Really? That's why I saw you about to marry someone else?"
Zara felt her chest tighten. "Please, don't say that. You already know the situation I was in. I wasn't thinking straight, and I took the marriage as a sense of duty. But I swear, I hated every bit of it. You know that you're the only one I've ever loved, and you're still the only one I'll ever love."
Zara took a step closer to him, but before she could continue, Lukman moved toward her. He didn't say anything. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her as though he was afraid she might disappear again. Zara hugged him back just as tightly, her heart swelling with love.
"I love you more and more, Zara," Lukman whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "My love for you makes it hard for me to stay angry with you. There's no need for explanations anymore. I'm just so grateful to have you back."
Their embrace was interrupted by a small voice saying, "Mommy."
Both of them pulled away quickly, embarrassed despite the fact that Asna was only three years old.
"Wasn't she asleep?" Lukman asked, still a little flustered.
Zara smiled softly. "Yes, but she's a light sleeper, Lukman. She takes after you."
"Really?" Lukman said, his lips curling into a smile.
"I want to sleep," Asna repeated, snuggling into her blanket.
Zara and Lukman smiled at each other before each of them took their place beside their daughter, adjusting the blanket with Asna between them. The room fell silent as Asna quickly drifted back to sleep. Lukman gently caressed her hair, gazing at his daughter with love.
After a few moments, Lukman spoke quietly, his voice full of admiration. "Zara, you've grown into such a beautiful woman and an amazing mother. I don't know how to thank you for doing all of this on your own. I really missed not being there for you."
Zara turned her head to look at him, her heart softening. "You don't have to thank me, Lukman. I did what I had to do."
A heavy silence settled between them before Lukman spoke again. "It's been a long time, and I really don't know where to start or how to even begin."
Zara smiled gently, her heart full of warmth. "Let's start with prayer, and thank our Lord for bringing us back together, for giving us a better family, and a better future."