Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Songs for this chapter are:

New Forth of July - 1k phew, 1k P-son

Sad - Sonnet Son (The World of the Married OST)

Lonely Sailing - Kim Yuna (The World of the Married OST)

Cassandra

If anyone had bought up the notion that a lawyer would make someone as great as a president mute, dumbstruck, and utterly defenseless before this time, I wouldn't even have bothered about begging to differ. I simply would have assumed that such a person was high on cocaine cough drops because even if it was reasonably possible, a president was a president for a reason.

They could decide to use their powers to shut that lawyer up and most times, it was done in the most brutal of ways since their almighty ego had been crushed by sheer intellect and they wouldn't want to stand seeing their mightiness being trodden upon because that's just who presidents of countries are — corrupt and unjust set of people.

But this man left. No. He scurried out of the office like a church rat with his armed men fleeing right after him. He left with a priceless expression of terror on his face. If he had left without saying a word but had let his facial articulations do the talking for him utilizing an arrogant scowl then I would have understood it to convey a different message — meaning that the battle line had just been drawn and war had just begun.

But this man. The President of Somalia ran away.

Maybe my life is worth living after all. Because now, I was beginning to understand why people serve God with all of their hearts because indeed, God exists and he answers prayers in diverse kinds of ways.

I wasn't in any way deserving of the love and grace he had been showering on me thus far. I could have died last week. After all, I was a grave sinner and my cries of desperation could have gone unheard since the prayers of a sinner are an abomination to the ears of the almighty.

But he hearkened unto my cry.

Or maybe he didn't hearken to mine but I was certain of the fact that he had thought of my sister and for her sake, he spared my life and let me live. He restored my health and removed the phantosmia I'd been suffering from for years like I never suffered from it.

He restored my youthfulness and brought agility back onto my bones. He gave us the grace to win a battle we were meant to lose. He gave me hope for every other hurdle that awaited me shortly, reassurance that I could come out a champion.

To be honest, if I could be bold as I was today, bold and unconflicted enough to defend my children in the presence of the President of Somalia, then I could face any other storm because I knew who I used to be and I knew what that old self was capable of.

If it was the former version of myself, selling my children to the President wouldn't have been a bad idea. My old self would have considered the idea. Would have given it thought. Would have weighed the options. It would have felt like the reasonable and right thing to do.

After all, the Somalian government had done me a huge favor by purchasing extra boxes of gemstones from me in the first place and it had helped me grow my business. The money I made from the transaction took me to the next level in the financial world so who was I not to sell my children if things had gone haywire with the President of Somalia?

I wouldn't have loved to watch a business that gave me joy slip off my fingers. After all, the business was that wall I had built for myself to get rid of pathetic emotions. Why would I ever want to lose it?

Something I could have done for sure.

Because If I could continue to sleep with a monster like Dan, despite how he disrespected me and cheat on a great, priceless friend like Mustafa just because I felt indebted to him for liberating me from slavery, then nothing was impossible for me to do. So long as I didn't lose the happiness and liberation such encounters had helped me attain.

That was how empty, rotten, and very much of a wreck, I was.

It took me a ton of determination not to feel so ashamed of myself.

I knew there was no point feeling ashamed because love had found me and it renewed me. Yes, I was a new creature. Modified, showered, fed, and clothed with ethereal love.

I had the best set of siblings one could ever wish for.

My sister, Yemisi especially had done so much for me. Way too much for me. Initially, I thought she was coming through for me because the majority of my problems needed legal aid but I couldn't forget the fact that she'd suspended whatever she was doing, which was most likely the investigation of Dan's atrocities when she learned that I was about to die and rushed to the hospital and prayed the hardest for my survival.

I thought she would let my other siblings look after me since she was busy legally assisting me and I don't know whatever made me have that impression about her. I don't know what made me think that she only comes through for her siblings when their problems needed legal aid.

This was the same lady who gave up her education in our early years and had spent every weekday hawking bread on the streets when she was supposed to be figuring how to get her homework done but she made that sacrifice despite how shameful it must have been just so her younger siblings could go to school. She'd done the most for the five of us. Why did I ever underestimate her?

Even if it was true that she only came through for her siblings when their problems required legal aid, it didn't undermine her personality neither should it make her any less of a wonderful sister because she'd dedicated her whole life to finding the group of men who raped my younger sister, Ebun.

If someone calls her today to inform her of the whereabouts of one of the rapists, she would suspend everything that took her time no matter how urgent it was and would travel to the place. Even if it was situated at the very ends of the earth.

I'm not sure if all lawyers or detectives would spend nearly twenty years of their already occupied lives trying to find a group of rapists when ninety percent of their efforts fall in agonizing futility.

But yemisi was that sibling - rare and sacrificial. Always putting other people first. If it wasn't for her love and all of her encouraging words and immense acts of love, I doubt I would have been able to see God in the light in which I see him now.

Maybe all I needed to do all my life was to focus and cherish the ones who genuinely loved me or perhaps in all of my years of solitude and constant efforts of trying to busy myself with activities with the hope for solace, satisfying enough to fill up the vacuum in my heart, I should have just sought the face of the Lord and everything would have been a lot better than it was now.

But this was no time to regret because above it all, God had given me a chance and I could see his mightiness now more than I could have probably ever seen it if he manifested it much earlier.

Love. The axis in which my life now revolves.

"I can't thank you enough for saving my company today. I—" Mustafa's shaky voice interrupts my spiritual Rhema of reminiscence and unexpectedly, my heart begins to throb.

Another hurdle. I could not help but fear it greatly.

"Mention not my dear, " my sister said with a strange, high-pitched tone to her voice. "hmm. I see that Mr. President forgot his cap here. Must have fallen off his head."

With a moderate smirk on her face, she walked towards the exit of the reception, bent to pick the cap up, inserted a finger into the cap, and began to spin the cap very fast with that sole finger after gaining adequate momentum. Her smirk grew wider.

"The poor old man was too scared. Too bad, don't you think?" she smiled, observing the cap like a realtor scrutinizing an averagely built house to know if it was worthy of sale. "I should find him and return his cap. Shouldn't I?"

Mustafa and I looked at each other.

I swallowed.

I knew my sister didn't intend to return the cap to its owner. Zoe was still outside, waiting for the 'meeting' to be over so she would come back to take Mustafa away with her since my sister had driven her out of the reception.

So I knew what exactly my elder sister was up to and I was extremely thankful for it.

"Yes, you should, " but don't buy all the time in the world so I don't end up dying from the tension before you return.

I gave her a small smile. My palms became unbearably cold.

"Hmm. Very well then. See you!" I wish you all the best she smiled brightly, doing a great job at communicating the words left unspoken.

I nodded firmly. She opened the door, gave me a small thumbs up.

Then, the door slammed shut.

Mustafa and I plus Office Tension Part Two was all that remained after my sister left.

One thing about tension no matter what the underlying situation was, was the fact that it was birthed by the fear of the unknown. Why stay scared over something you are well aware of how it's going to turn out to be?

But the tension was always temporary and often, unnecessary because there's always an end to everything, and sometimes, the results that come forth from the fear we nurse about the unknown turns out to be a lot better than we expected.

Hence, we promise ourselves to be a lot calmer next time so we don't have to go through that same cycle of agitation and pointless anxiety.

But what happens when we go through it again? And in this situation, promises we made to ourselves to remain calm don't avail us? I mean, there was no way I couldn't be scared of having to meet with the President of a nation especially when I knew he came for war. What was the possibility of staying calm in that situation? A complete zero percent for sure. But surprisingly, the outcome of things made me wish I wasn't too scared. Made me wish I was as confident as my sister.

I could finally breathe again. At least for a few minutes.

Then my ex-husband comes and I wished the earth would open up and devour me because I feared him and what might come out of our discussion like the meeting with the president. How similar. I had no idea what conclusion Mustafa had come to concerning our damaged relationship and I had no power to change it.

If he decides not to forgive me, walk out on me, and not want to see me again, if he decides to loathe me more than he already does because I put him in this shameful mess in the first place, then I couldn't hate him nor call him unjust for being that way just like how the President had the power to ruin my entire life legally or illegally.

All I could do was cry.

But having to go through that pathetic feeling of being clueless about what was going to happen and being so gravely torn apart by it twice on the same day was unbearable for me.

I'd used up my Goodluck already. I really shouldn't expect anything positive from the man I had hurt so much so maybe I shouldn't be tensed at all.

"It-Its been a while, " I manage to find my voice and a transition from my world of emotional wreckage to a reality facing me with so many things waiting to be uncovered - raw, bitter sentimentality.

"Indeed, " his right little finger twitched. "How are the kids?" he gave a thin smile of pain.

"T-they are doing great. They miss you a lot you know?"

"Oh, is that so?" he looked away from me for a moment then he faced me again with that smile. "I should visit often if that's the case." if I will ever be comfortable with seeing your face that is.

I could read it all.

I smiled, not expecting to receive any other message but that. However, it hurt me to see how hard he was trying to get it all together. He was a mess.

"How have you been this whole while?" I asked.

"Well, I've been alive which is very significant because I could have been deceased by now. But I'm alive and that's all that matters."

Never did I picture Mustafa to be one to struggle so hard to shield his depression and pain or struggle to stay alive when he once had so much to live for and so many things to be happy about. Once upon a time, Mustafa would laugh and smile like a child when we spent time together. Once upon a time, I made this man happy and joyful.

But I took that mirth away from him as though I owned it.

He allowed me to make him happy but I gave him pain. Have I always been this selfish?

"I-I'm so–sorry. I will never be able to forgive myself but I'm sorry for wasting your precious time. For betraying you to the point where you nearly lost your life."

"Your sister came to uphold the glory of my company. That's a louder and more potent apology for me because I don't know what would happen to me if I had lost this company forever. Hopefully, I never get to face something like this again because of you."

"You won't. I will return all of the money I stole from you."

"My dad practically disowned me when I traveled back home to Iran to tell him about the loss this company suffered because of that single deal. But now, I still have something valuable to hold on to. My life is not wasted completely after all."

The tears rolled down my eyes of course. If they didn't fall off their free will, I would have forced them to come out. I wouldn't be able to stand one more minute display of wickedness because I'd wrecked this man beyond repair.

And it was evident from the fact that he had lost his ability to smile from the depths of his heart. He'd lost the freest of gifts. I snatched it away.

Why wasn't he yelling at me? Why wasn't he uttering all sorts of profanities at me from the depths of his aggrieved heart? Why?

When I'd done something as tragic as destroying the relationship between a father and his son, knowing fully well what it felt like to have Dan make me hate my mother so much.

Just why?

"I'm sorry. Please I—" the words failed me. The tears won, pleading to let the flickers of humanity left in me to be expressed after all my years of displaying nothing but beastly callousness. I went on my knees.

"I wish I could hug you and wipe those tears away from your eyes but I'm afraid I haven't forgiven you up to that point. I'm still hurting too so please, stop crying."

No. Don't make this harder for me. I don't mind losing my eyes from crying excessively. What are my eyes compared to all of the things I've stolen from you?! Compared to all of the things you've lost because of me?

"Who are you to console me when I hurt you so terribly?" I said, hoping he will just let me punish myself in the way I could.

"How have you been?"

"Mustafa—"

"I deserve to know. Talk to me, " he smiled again.

I looked up at him from the position in which I maintained. He stretched out his hand towards me.

With his figure towering over me, only then did I see him in all of his glory. Not his physical mien but the glory of God upon his life. He was a wonderful person. The best friend I could ever have in my entire life.

How could I have ever thought of betraying him? Were the iniquities of my heart more forceful than the darkest spells of the world?

This man was consoling me and was still interested in knowing about my welfare. He was still smiling at me. He was being honest with me. He—

"Cassie, please. Tell me. How have you been doing? You could make it fair by telling me since you asked about me as well, " he pleaded, interrupting my chain of thoughts.

"I...I–I've been alive too, " I found my voice again. "I was supposed to die last week because my illness had gotten the better part of my respiratory organs but God showed me that he was God. My sister has been a God-sent angel as well."

I placed my hand in his outstretched arm and he helped up on my feet. Suddenly, he pulled me into his chest. Into a hug. Was I dreaming? Yes, I was.

So I tried to pull myself away but like the vitality of a dream or a delusion, I couldn't seem to free myself from his hold, to make me believe that it was all real but I knew that there was no way he could be hugging me right now.

"I'm doing this because I'm proud of you. Watching you defend our children like that in the presence of the President made me see you in a new light, " his voice proved my notions wrong. The action which involved his hands running down the length of my wooly hair further amplified his point. I wasn't dreaming.

"I still love you, Cassie. But it's going to take a while for me to heal. I might hate you sometimes. Very often in fact but I will always remind myself of the fact that you're becoming a better person from what I saw today. That has always been my sincere wish for you. I will always use today to pacify myself when those turbulent days come."

Determined to lose my eyes, I cried some more. My teeth clambered together, uncomfortable as the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. I dug my teeth softly onto his shoulder and pressed my hands onto his back through his suit to get a grip of myself.

If I'm set on punishing myself then I should do it well without attracting pity.

"I-m sorry, Mustafa. I...I'm sorry, " was all my callous self could say and had kept on saying for many more minutes as he didn't lose his hold on me.

I'd just began to wish that my sister would buy some more time. Adequate to help me get myself together when I heard the sound of the door open in the same manner in which it had been shut, several minutes ago.

***

Exodus 14:14 - "The Lord will fight for you and you will hold your peace."