Zubeda Ch. 03

"Ahhhhhh," Zubeda moaned beneath her husband. She tried hard not to, knowing Khalil to be in the next room, but Gaphar made it impossible. He had never fucked her so hard before. He was relentless. Was he angry? She couldn't understand. He had been quiet around mealtime and his mild flirtations hadn't made the evening rounds either. She wondered if anything was bothering him.

"Gaphar," she began to ask, then ended up moaning. "Ahhhhhh, Gaphar, you're hurting me," she whispered.

Gaphar hadn't planned this to happen. He was mad with Noor. He hadn't had his fill of her and even though he had planned not to take Zubeda that's exactly what he ended up doing. He felt mad with himself. Maybe he was getting used to fucking Zubeda to release frustration. Noor, Zubeda, Jamin...Khalil it was all getting entangled in his head. The life he juggled as easily as breathing was now turning on him. But Noor, he pumped harder into Zubeda, that witch was going to be the death of him.

"Ahhhh, Gaphar," Zubeda moaned, tears streaming down the corners of her eyes.

Gaphar placed his mouth on hers, kissing her hard. "Ummmh," he groaned close to his orgasm.

Khalil hugged a pillow hard to himself. His best intentions were turning against him. Every time she moaned he felt her beneath him. He cursed Gaphar for planting the idea in his head. But Khalil could never think of sharing his wife with anyone. It boiled his blood even to think of it. He wondered how Gaphar could even think about it. But he did know Gaphar to be a promiscuous man and he couldn't altogether dismiss the vibe he had felt between Noor and him.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh," Zubeda moaned in the other room and Khalil squeezed his cock hard.

"Zubedaaaaa," he pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his moan.

Three souls slept spent in their own worlds, sharing the same orgasm. Their lives interlinked by a common strand.

Across the street in a mansion, Noor curled her toes beneath her husband as the first of her orgasms hit her. She descended to her senses and her blood began to boil thinking of Gaphar's wife again. Her brows furrowed. She wanted to murder her. The frail wench. Above her, her husband worked laboriously on an orgasm. His breath heavy, hot and sticky against her ear. She did not remember when she had stopped loving her husband. Even though he came from an affluent family and was a good provider and care giver, neither name, nor wealth had kept Noor in love with him. Her mind flitted to Gaphar. His strong hard muscular body, baked a shiny bronze in the hot summer sun. The azure of his eyes sticking out against the brown of his skin. The fall of his silky brown hair over his brows. She felt her fingers raking his hair and twisting it around her fingers when they fucked like animals. She began to convulse and her back arched as a massive orgasm hit her. She hated him and she loved him and which she did more she could not tell. But right now she wanted to murder him.

Morning came unsatisfying for everyone in question. Khalil hadn't managed a wink all of last night. His thoughts had kept traveling to Zubeda. By morning he had decided it would be better he stay as far away from Zubeda as possible. He would start looking for a room to rent.

Gaphar woke up to his sleeping wife and felt revolted. He had been dreaming of Noor. The reality he woke to left him in a rotten mood. All night he had hard fucked his wife in the hope that with one of those orgasms he would miraculously forget Noor and fall out of her spell. Who was he fooling? The witch probably practiced black magic. He sighed and heard his wife stir from her sleep next to him.

"Gaphar," she whispered hoarsely still not completely awake. She tried to pull him to herself for a kiss. She needed to give expression to the love she felt for him, before her heart burst.

He pushed her hand away mumbling an excuse. "I need to get ready for work." With that he scrambled out of bed. He needed to see Noor. His legs felt weak with desire to see her. He dragged his feet to the bathroom, then stood peering into the mirror, his palms pressed on the basin. He took another steadying breath. The witch had spoiled him for everyone. He had never let his promiscuous self believe this before, but now he saw it reflected, clear as day in his eyes. He exhaled tiredly.

At breakfast Zubeda tried to catch her husband's eyes several times, but always found him deep in thought. He hardly touched his food, drank tea then got up to leave. Khalil on the other hand had decided to completely give the breakfast a miss. When Gaphar rose to leave, Zubeda walked him to the gate.

"Gaphar are you alright?" she asked hesitantly. He looked at her deep and long with his most unfathomable stare, until Zubeda felt a chill and looked away. "Would you like me to bring you lunch today?" she asked barely above a whisper, hopeful.

"No," he exhaled tiredly again, turned on his heel and left. Had it not been for her, Noor would not be mad at him. He was sure Noor had chalked out devious ways of retaliation all night through. He knew the extent of her jealous, spiteful nature. What she didn't know was that every time she slept with her husband was enough punishment for Gaphar.

Gaphar found Khalil waiting for him outside the house. "You're not hungry today?" Gaphar asked Khalil his mind still engaged else where.

"I think I need to find a place of my own Gaphar. Need to make a clean start of my life." He said ponderously.

"No. At least not right now. Maybe in a month or two when you've understood the city better, I'll help you find a place myself." He answered brusquely putting an end to the conversation altogether.

Across the street, Gaphar shook the Jude gate a third time but it didn't relent. This had happened for the first time in seven years. The first thought that shook him was, had she left. He shook his head to put it away. Jamin Khan could not afford to leave this place.

Khalil looked at Gaphar questioningly.

Gaphar pressed the bell long this time. She couldn't have left him over a small thing like this. Frantically he pressed the bell again.

The gate opened and Noor stepped out. Her dark eyes deep, mysterious pools. Her gaze found the subject of her contempt and fixed him with her stare.

"We no longer require your services. You may leave," she said in a silken voice. She coolly patted her dark hair, then lazily pulled her plat in front to gently slide her hand down her long silken hair.

Gaphar stared at her, a frown knitting his brows. Not in a million years had he dreamt this was how she would exact her price, with a pound of his flesh. But he knew she was faking it. She couldn't bare to live without him. "Could I talk to Jamin Mian, considering it was he who hired me in the first place. Please call him." He asked solemnly still trying to comprehend her intention. His eyes roved over her hungrily and his gaze settled on her lips.

"Khalil, will you give me a moment to talk please, Gaphar gestured for him to leave. He waited for him to walk out of ear shot.

"What are you doing Noor?" he began...

"What I should have done a long time ago. Now go and never show me your face again." She narrowed her gaze in defiance.

"You don't mean that Noor," he stared into her dark eyes and could think of doing nothing but drowning in them never to surface again.

"Oh! But I have never meant anything more Gaphar Banuchi," she took sadistic pleasure in saying that.

"That is not fair Noor..." he implored.

"Yes, it isn't, but then you shouldn't expect fairness from a witch," her eyes smoldered. "She is your wife by law and I am but your whore. One of your several whores," she hissed. "That is what I've always been to you," her voice broke. "Then it is only fair that I act in compliance with my character. I wish you luck. Good bye now."

With that she began to turn away.

"Noor, no, I can't...," Gaphar shook his head, swallowing. But he did not finish. The knowledge shook him. The tightening in his chest felt physically painful.

"But I can," she whirled around and left him standing, her hips swaying gently behind her.

Gaphar stood there a long time, while shock turned to numbness in his chest.

"Gaphar what's wrong," Khalil searched his face for answers. "Are we out of work?"

Gaphar nodded. "We'll find work," he absently assured Khalil. Finding work was the least of his troubles.

By evening Gaphar had managed to get himself and Khalil hired at one of the factories at a better remuneration. He was still optimistic that Noor would soon come to her senses once she cooled off.

But as days began to role by, and there was still no word from Noor, Gaphar began to constantly remain in a sullen mood. He snapped at Zubeda at the slightest provocation or regarded her with cold contempt. Zubeda watched her husband teary eyed wondering why it was that she could not please him. She tried to do everything under her power to make him happy, but she failed no matter what she did.

"Gaphar have I done something to offend you?" she bemoaned searching his eyes for answers. "Then please forgive me Gaphar and tell me what I've done wrong. I beg you Gaphar. I can't bear your indifference anymore." She broke down. A week ago she had missed her period and she knew now she was with a child. But right now she did not know whether sharing that news would only offend him further. Lately he had stopped lying with her at night, and when he did he rode her relentlessly. He remained aloof, hardly slept all night, pacing the verandah, lost in his thoughts.

She longed for him to touch her, specially now that she was pregnant with his child. She longed to comfort her, longed to kiss all his woes away. But he did not let her into his thoughts.

He left without a word for work.

Zubeda wiped her tears, then rose to leave their room and bumped into Khalil.

"Zubeda?" Khalil asked with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Zubeda pursed her lips trying hard to control her tears. Her chin trembled. "I..." she stuttered. "I'm just missing my family," she lied.

Khalil looked down, instantly remembering his own. None of whom he would ever meet again.

Zubeda felt ashamed at once. It was not her intention to remind Khalil about them.

"I understand," he replied barely above a whisper. Then for the first time he lifted his gaze to her face and truly saw her. The slight slope of her downward tilted sleepy eyes and the small bulb beneath her upper lip. He stifled the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her sorrows away.

"I miss home too," he said instead. "Miss the crispy fresh mornings. The smell of flat breads wafting from Ammi Jaan's kitchen. My favorite Afghani Pulao, the head massages mother gave at night before I slept," he chuckled wistfully, then began to look down again. "You can talk to me if you feel like Zubeda, no one knows more about missing a family than I do." He nodded, then strode off to catch up with Gaphar for work.

Twice he tried to talk to Gaphar about his wife, but never managed past monosyllables. Then he realized it was the case of a guilty conscience. He had slept with Zubeda too many times in his dreams and now he worried someone, specially Gaphar might see it in his eyes.

Gaphar wasn't being his usual self either. Lately he had been remiss of his usual charms. His mind was elsewhere. Khalil wondered whether it was a result of losing his job of seven years, or the reason why he lost it. His mind drifted to Zubeda, the way her mouth tilted down while she cried, her puckered lips. His heart clenched inside his chest. Damn Gaphar. He would've never thought of her this way had Gaphar not put notions in his head. And then the moment he succeeded to convince himself of his better intentions he would have to endure Gapahar fucking her every few nights like there was no tomorrow. In the silence of the night, he would hear every last moan she made. Khalil's breath hitched in his chest and he exhaled tiredly.

When they returned that evening after work, Khalil was surprised to see Afghani pulao being served for dinner. "I hope it is to your liking, even though I'm sure it's not as good as your mother's," Zubeda said shyly addressing Khalil, then sat next to Gaphar who was watching her with intent.

Khalil could not swallow for the first few minutes, he felt so choked with emotion.

That night he heard her again. "Gaphar tell me what's wrong? Please," she sobbed quietly. "I want to make you happy, just tell me what to do? I'll do whatever you say." But Khalil did not hear Gaphar respond at all. A while later he heard footsteps heading upstairs to the terrace. Then Zubeda's muffled sobbing until she fell asleep.

The next day he found the courage to talk to Gaphar at the factory.

"She cried all of last night," he told him while they were on a break. Gaphar did not reply. He exhaled, took a sip of his tea, then got lost in his thoughts again.

"Is everything all right?" Khalil watched him finish his tea.

Gaphar exhaled again."I should have never married her. If I had found you earlier." He paused. I would've asked Abu Jaan to marry her to you Khalil and everything would've been all right."

"Is there someone else Gaphar?" Khalil asked in a low voice already knowing the answer to that.

Gaphar's blue eyes met his. Khalil nodded. He knew who it was. He felt the anger he had felt for Gaphar the previous night, silently slip away. He had seen something in his eyes. A kind of hopelessness, utter, complete and heart-wrenching. The hopelessness of a man who has lost his soul.

That night when Gaphar came to sleep next to Zubeda, she did not try to touch him like she had last night. She had felt so alone that she had tried to slip into his arms. He had instantly pushed her away. She still felt tears sting her eyes at the memory. It had been difficult to hide her emotions from Ammi Jaan during the day. She had finally asked her of who Noor was? Sometimes during the night he still moaned her name. Maybe she was someone he had wanted to marry. But Ammi Jaan only cursed and called her names.

"She is no one Zubeda. She will always be no-one. You are my son's wife. Remember that." She had lifted her chin and looked into her eyes with conviction that would bend steel. Zubeda had cried her discontent in her embrace.

"I will talk to him, don't you cry," she had consoled her.

"No, please don't." Zubeda sniveled. "I'll talk to him myself." She didn't want Gaphar to think she had gone snooping behind his back.

Zubeda waited for him to fall asleep. Then quietly she rested her hand gingerly on his chest. Then she had soundly fallen asleep.

The next day Zubeda was in a better frame of mind. It was a Sunday and she knew even if he didn't talk to her or let her touch him she could still watch him. Maybe for the moment that was enough. She felt so starved for him, that she fell for whatever scraps he threw at her.

She started with an old family recipe of Mutton Shorba. Ammi Jaan had mentioned that Gaphar had a special liking for it. She kept an eye on him and Khalil relaxing while they chatted, lying on Charpais in the courtyard. Gaphar laughed and Zubeda saw his Adam's apple bobbing. His hair caught the morning sun. She smiled and touched her flat stomach. She wanted to have a son who would look just like his father.

She had finished chopping tomatoes and onions and peeling garlic when someone came at the gate. Ammi said it was someone called Jamin Khan. Gaphar sat chatting to the man, his face a mask.

"Zubeda, tea," he paused to call out to her then he was talking again.

A few minutes later Zubeda walked out with a tray. "Tasleem," she wished Jamin Khan. Then came back inside to watch them from her kitchen window. She saw Khalil leave for his room. But Gaphar and Jamin Khan still discussed something important. She could tell from the grave expression on Gaphar's face.

She went back to her cooking. She was marinating the mutton when she felt sick to her stomach. It was the Asafetida. She placed a hand on her mouth and made a dash for her room. In the bathroom she wretched until her chest ached. Then she heard Khalil at the door.

"Zubeda is everything alright?"

"Yes," her voice trembled. She rinsed her mouth and splashed her face with water.

"Should I call Gaphar?" He asked when she came out and stood against the wall.

"No," Zubeda replied instantly. She didn't want him to know yet. She was treading on thin ice with him. She didn't know how he would react to the news.

"I feel better now." She tried to smile in vain. Her stomach still felt tender. Even light movement made it churn. She moaned closing her eyes and leant against the wall again.

"I'm pregnant." Even before she knew it she had said it.

Khalil was too in shock to speak after that. She opened her eyes, he was still standing there. "I haven't told Gaphar yet, will you keep it to yourself?" She pleaded.

Khalil nodded.

"Will you do me one more favor Khalil?"

Khalil nodded again. He'd gone irrevocably mute.

I can't bear the smell of hing, if I go back to the kitchen I'll feel sick again. Will you get rid of it for me please.

He nodded again disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

Zubeda decided to lie in bed for a while. She would have to soon tell Gaphar. She prayed to Allah mian that Gaphar could love her, even if just a little.

When she went out again Jamin Khan had already left and she could hear Khalil and Gaphar joking in the kitchen.

"Zubeda Begum, in the time you were out running errands, brother Khalil hijacked your kitchen. He has now pledged to cook today's meal." His blue eyes shone. Zubeda felt her heart blossom. A sudden change had descended over Gaphar. The teasing was back. She had only just asked and Allah had answered her prayers. Maybe tonight she would tell him about the coming baby.

She looked thankfully at Khalil. Why could she not share a similar understanding with Gaphar, she wondered. Gaphar was not as pliable. He was a free spirit, that is why. And that is why she was in love with him. His love was not there for the taking. You had to earn it and she promised herself that she would.

"You two cook, while I go and pay Jamin Khan a visit. He's in need of some immediate repairs. I'll be back before evening. Hopefully," he added. He looked at Khalil for an instant, there was an exchange there that she did not understand. She felt let down that he was leaving.

I don't want you to go she wanted to say but nothing came out.

It was something in the way she looked at him, that he was forced to say again that he would be back soon.

Then he had left.

She made a face. Lips drooping at the corners, lips pouting. Then she looked at Khalil. "Thank you," she said in her quiet voice. "I don't smell it anymore. " Then she smiled. "Khalil... will you tell me something about home. I miss Abu and Ammi. Life was so perfect back then. Simpler." She began to reminiscence. She had loved Gaphar just as she did now. But in her dreams he couldn't bare to live without her too. She sighed.

"When we were young my brothers and I were always landing ourselves in trouble." Khalil began. "On holidays we would go on long jaunts high up in the mountains. On our way, we would camp with shepherds and share their mutton shorba, like this one. In the evening we would climb down and help ourselves to another healthy helping of caning from mother." He chuckled wistfully at the memory. "The mountains were home to many wild animals and mother was always scared she would lose one of us to them. Isn't it ironical Zubeda that the animal we fell prey to was too close to home." His brows furrowed and he began to stir the shorba in the pot again. "Sometimes I feel, I'll wake and find it was all a bad dream. For days after, it would just not sink that I had lost all of them. I expected to run into them at each turn. Abu, Ammi, Asif, Hamid, Shabana. But no matter how many corners I turn, I never find them."