Page 91 of If I Loved You Less
Technically, Icango – I have my own money, I know the way the world works, but Papa is positively frightened by the idea of me traveling alone or with friends. It isn’t that he wishes to limit me; he does not see the point in it, since he always obliges whenever Naadia and I wish to go on vacation.
In truth, he is afraid for me to travel alone. I have only ever traveled with him. To a certain extent, I understand: the world is cruel, and I am a sheltered young lady. Of course, he wishes to keep me safe.
“So youcango,” Rizwan replies, a little confused.
“Yes, but I don’t wish to do anything that would make him unhappy,” I explain. I live under his roof; why would I disrespect him so? I show I am grateful by being obedient.
Everything that I am, that I have, is because of him, so I do everything that I can to make him happy, so long as it is not at the expense of my own happiness, of course.
He does make it difficult, as of late. Since the day I was sick and snapped at him, he’s been distant. No matter how I try to coax a good mood out of him, offering ice cream or to go for a walk together, he’s withdrawn. Not angry, just quiet.
He has even taken to making his own coffee in the mornings and leaving before I come down. I miss our little routine.
I should ask Fawad about it. It seems he sees more of Papa these days than I do. My gaze inadvertently finds him, standing beside Shanzay, the two chatting. Shanzay laughs at something Fawad says, and my eyebrows furrow ever so slightly.
Fawad is not so funny,I think to myself, something strange nudging in my chest.
“You make unlikely friends,” Rizwan says, following my gaze.
“Sorry?” I ask, shifting my focus to him.
“You and Shanzay,” he says. “I would not expect it.”
I consider this. “I did not expect it, at first, either,” I agree. I had befriended her at first because I was bored and lonely and thought I could be helpful to her, but now she’s become a true friend.
“She’s a bit of a frazzled girl,” he says. “Not as refined as you are, or as poised.”
“Yes, she rather is,” I agree, a smile engulfing my face, for therein lies her charm, which I suspect Rizwan is subtly alluding to as well. She is so innocent and sweet, not constantly trying to be anything other than what she is. She has the courage to be true.
“She’s either awfully quiet or chattering on and on,” Rizwan adds. I smile at him brightly.
“Isn’t she just?” I say. It is yet another reason I like her, her chattering is a comfort to me, bringing vibrant colors to my life when things are fading to gray.
Oh, I am so glad he sees her!
I stifle a laugh, as I see Rizwan and I are the only ones talking. The others are gathered around, mostly quiet, particularly Jasmine, who is whimpering due to the heat, and Emad, who keeps swatting mosquitoes on his arm.
“Let’s play cards!” I suggest. Everyone is being so boring. I usher everyone over to the picnic blanket we have laid out on the grass, and we all assemble around in a circle. I sit next to Shanzay, and Rizwan comes to sit next to me, probably wanting to be close to her. I bite back a smile.
We play a round of cards, but it isn’t very fun.
“This isn’t very diverting,” Rizwan whispers to me. I pout in agreement. He wiggles his eyebrows at me, before addressing everyone with lively impudence. “Let’s play another game!” he says. “Humaira tells me she wants to know what everyone’s thinking.”
I smile; oh, that could be fun! Shanzay chatters on in response, saying a great deal, and it only makes Rizwan and I laugh more. She is so sweet!
“Is Humaira sure she wants to hear what we’re all thinking?” Fawad asks, voice distinct as he looks from Rizwan to me. His dark eyes are cold.
“No, no,” I say, laughing carelessly. “Don’t tell me what you’re thinking – just say anything good.”
“It seems like such an obnoxious thing to say,” Jasmine murmurs to Emad. “Some girls are so attention-seeking, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I agree completely,” Emad whispers to her. “No one can be as elegant as you, babe.”
Rizwan gives me a look, hearing this as well, and I bite back another grin. “No, no, you’re right, Fawad, Humaira doesn’t want to know what you’re thinking,” he announces. “Instead, she wants to know one thing very clever, two things moderately clever, or three things boring.”
“Oh, I can start then, that should be easy,” Shanzay says, smiling. “I probably say three boring things just by opening my mouth, since I am always babbling on.”
“Only three?” Rizwan says beneath his breath.
