17~Chaotic dinner #2
"I will." Nanny Ann nodded.
"And I'm truly sorry."
Najib gave a faint nod.
"I should leave."
Just then...
Nanny Ann's phone began to ring.
She glanced at the screen.
"It's Abdul."
Najib immediately looked up.
"Please... Put it on speaker."
She answered.
"Abdul?"
"Nanny Ann." Abdul's anxious voice came through immediately.
"It's urgent."
"I just got a call from Faruk."
"It's about Hanan."
"I'm forwarding you the address now."
"Please get a taxi and go bring her home."
"How is she?" Faruk asked as he approached his mother, who was clearing the dining table alongside the maids.
"She's asleep." She replied tiredly.
"Thank you for taking care of her." He offered a faint smile before glancing at the untouched dishes spread across the table. "You shouldn't be doing this. You've been cooking since morning. You look exhausted."
His mother let out a long sigh.
"And all my efforts went to waste."
She gestured toward the table.
"Look at this. I spent the entire day preparing this dinner, only for the night to end in chaos. Barely anyone touched the food."
"I'm sorry, Mom..." Faruk lowered his head. "But Najib deserved that punch and the slap as well."
"And why exactly?" She asked. "Because he spoke to his ex wife?"
"He kissed her!" Faruk snapped.
His mother frowned.
"She is still his woman, the woman he spent three years searching for."
"She's his ex wife, not his woman Mom." Faruk corrected firmly. "He lost every right to touch her the day he killed their child."
"You don't know the whole story, so don't judge yet." His mother frowned.
"I know enough."
"No, you don't."
"Mom, he's a murderer."
And just then, a loud slap echoed across the dining room.
Faruk staggered backwards, holding his burning cheek.
"Dad..."
"Enough!" His father thundered.
Faruk's mother gasped.
"Baban Faruk!"
He ignored her completely.
"Is this the kind of son you raised?!" He yelled.
Then he turned to Faruk, eyes blazing.
"What proof do you have for calling your brother a murderer?"
"Hanan told me..."
"Exactly!"
His father cut him off.
"A complete stranger fills your head with accusations, and you believe every single word without questioning it!"
"Hanan is not a stranger."
"Then who is she?" His father demanded.
"What makes her so important that you're willing to destroy your own family because of her?"
Faruk clenched his fists.
He hesitated.
He knew the words he was about to say would only make things worse...
But he said them anyway.
"She's my girlfriend."
Silence swallowed the room.
His father stared at him in disbelief.
"Your... what?"
"My girlfriend." Faruk repeated, refusing to back down. "And Najib has no right to her anymore!"
"Wonderful, so now you are after your brother's wife?"
"Ex wife, dad!" His voice rose in anger. "The moment Najib divorced her, he lost all rights over her! Understand that please!"
"Oh, mind blowing." His father laughed bitterly.
"So you've finally grown bold enough to shout at me?"
He raised his hand to slap him again.
Before it could land, Faruk's mother stepped between them.
"Enough!" She cried out.
"He's wrong, yes, but you can't keep hitting him!"
He glared at her.
"Like mother, like son."
Then he scoffed.
"You spoiled him."
"You pampered him."
"And now look at him."
"He has become a loser who blindly trusts a woman!"
"My son is not a loser!" His mother shot back, tears gathering in her eyes.
Before another argument could erupt...
"Please... stop."
Everyone turned.
Hanan stood at the entrance of the dining room.
She looked pale.
Her hair was still damp, and her eyes were swollen from crying.
She had woken up because of their shouting.
Slowly, she walked toward them.
"Please don't fight because of me."
She looked at Fatuk's father.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"It's my fault."
"Please don't be angry with Faruk."
She bowed her head respectfully.
"I'm deeply sorry for everything that happened tonight."
Turning to Faruk's mother, she forced a small smile.
"Thank you for taking care of me."
Then she looked at Faruk.
"I think it's best if I leave."
Faruk frowned.
"Leave?"
He glanced at the clock.
"It's already past ten."
"I'll order an Uber."
"No."
He immediately grabbed his car keys.
"I'll take you home."
He gently held her hand.
Before they could move...
"Faruk, you are not leaving this house, she may leave."
His father's voice stopped them.
Faruk slowly turned.
"Dad..."
"I said you are not stepping out tonight."
"Dad, please..."
"If you walk out that door..."
His father looked him straight in the eye.
"...consider yourself disowned, you're no longer my son."
The room went silent.
Even Hanan was speechless.
"Faruk..." She whispered.
"It's okay."
She gently removed her hand from his.
"I'll be fine."
"I can get home safely."
She smiled, though her eyes betrayed her sadness.
"Goodnight."
Without waiting for anyone to stop her again, she hurried outside.
The moment she stepped onto the front porch...
Rain poured heavily from the sky.
Faruk looked toward the entrance.
"Mom..."
"It's raining."
"We can't let her leave alone under this heavy rain."
"Please talk to Dad."
His mother slowly drank a glass of water before answering.
Her heart was still pounding from everything that had happened.
"Faruk... Please let her go."
"But she's our guest."
"I know."
"Then why are we sending her away?"
She looked at him sadly.
"If you respect me as your mother, stay here and don't leave."
"Don't make tonight worse than it already is."
She quietly walked away.
Faruk remained rooted to his spot.
He stared at the rain outside.
His entire body urged him to run after Hanan.
He even reached the front door.
His fingers touched the handle.
But then...
His mother's words echoed in his mind.
Slowly, he turned.
She was standing at the end of the hallway, silently watching him.
His shoulders slumped.
Frustrated, he slammed the door shut.
Without another word, he walked upstairs to the guest room he usually occupied whenever he stayed at his father's house.
He immediately dialed Hanan's number.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Switched off."
He rubbed both hands over his face.
"Damn it..."
Realizing there was only one person left who could help...
He scrolled through his contacts.
His thumb hovered briefly over the screen.
Then he tapped on a familiar contact.
Abdul's.
.
.
.