Clueless Love

I arrive at the restaurant and walk in to meet Fatima and Emma.

“As salamu alaykum, how are you guys doing?” I greet hugging them both.

“Wa alaykumu salam, we are doing great,” Fatima replies.

“Same here,” Emma says hugging me.

“Umit, what in God’s name are you wearing?” Fatima says when I take off my coat to sit down.

“Oh this? It is Ismail’s shirt, I borrowed it. Mine got…” I start to explain, but I don’t get to finish before Fatima cuts me off.

“You are wearing whose shirt? Umit, I know we gave you our blessing, but there are steps to follow,” Fatima says in a dramatic voice while shaking her head.

“Fatima, what are you saying?” I respond totally confused.

“I am saying, now you are wearing his shirt. The next thing we know, your stomach is growing more than normal,” Fatima sounds like she is holding back her laughter.

“Fatima you are not serious, you know that is impossible. I don’t even know why I am answering you,” I say shaking my head understanding what Fatima is implying, but I also know she just wants to mess with me.

“I am being serious Umit. Emma is this not how it all starts,” Fatima teases.

“Fatima, will you stop messing with Umit. I am sure there is a good reason as to why she is wearing Ismail’s shirt,” Emma says.

“Thank you, Emma, and yes, there is. Fatima, I don’t blame you, you don’t have work this afternoon. That’s why you want to make trouble. Let me eat my lunch. I don’t have time for your mischief.” I say shaking my head.

“There is no need for that bestie. I was only joking. I know there must be a good reason as to why you are wearing his shirt,” Fatima states.

“Just as well, because if not, if not, if not…” I say in a dramatic voice.

“I know, I know, but really why are you wearing his shirt? I can’t come up with any good reason to why you would,” Fatima says.

“Yeah, why?” Emma asks. I explain to them what happened this morning, and how embarrassing it was for me.

“So, he saw your bra,” Fatima laughs.

“I am sure you wished you could disappear at that moment,” Emma says laughing.

“Why are you guys laughing? It was very embarrassing for me. It was only by Allah’s grace I was able to face him again, I was so embarrassed,” I say, feeling like they are not doing anything to make me feel better after what happened this morning.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh but it’s kind of funny” Fatima says, still grinning.

“Sorry, I won’t laugh again,” Emma says trying to hold back her laughter too.

“It’s not funny, stop laughing. I already have enough reminders of what happened, whenever I look at the shirt I am wearing today,” I huff.

“We are sorry, and the shirt does not look that bad. You are rocking it pretty nice,” Emma says.

“Yeah, you are, so don’t mind us. You don’t look bad,” Fatima chimes in.

“Really, because that was the same thing Ismail said this morning,” I say looking at my outfit.

“Yes, he is right. I only noticed because I know most of your clothes, and I know you don’t have anything like this,” Fatima says. The reason Fatima knows most of my clothes is that she wears half of them. Every time she comes to visit me, she always checks my closet and if I have new clothes, she always picks a few for herself. The same goes for when I go to her house so you can say we are even.

“Oh, I thought it was because it looked bad,” I say feeling very happy Ismail was not just saying I looked good to make me happy.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Nope, you don’t,” Fatima says.

“That’s good then,” I reply smiling.

“Yeah, can we order now, I am famished,” Emma says sounding very hungry.

“Yes, we can,” I say, calling a waiter to our table.

I order white rice with baked sweet and sour chicken. Fatima orders baked chicken potatoes. Emma orders Primavera stuffed chicken and vegetables. While eating, Emma asks Fatima how the wedding preparations are coming along.

“It is as hectic as ever; I pray I will be done with everything before the D-day. Good thing we had to move it up a little because of the awards show,” Fatima replies sounding a bit stressed out.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but that reminds me…, who are you guys wearing for the award show?” Emma says.

“Versace asked to make my dress; I am so happy words can’t explain it. They heard I am Udar’s fiancé and emailed me saying they want to make my dress for the award show. I am so sorry I did not tell you guys sooner. I was going to tell you, but it slipped my mind with the wedding preparations taking up all of my time,” Fatima says excitedly.

“I am so happy for you, Umit. What about you?” Emma asks turning to me.

“I am so happy for you Fatima. As for me, I have not decided between Chanel and Dolce and Gabbana. I have a few dresses I bought from Paris, and I don’t know which to pick. Emma, are you and Austin coming for the show?” I reply.

“Maybe we should come by and help you decide. And yeah, Austin and I won’t miss it for the world. His two best friends both have nominations.”

“That will be great. I don’t mind an extra opinion while picking which to wear, and yeah that’s true. I think Udar has four or two and Ismail also. I don’t really remember, I only just found out the award show even exists,” I say.

“Me too. I only found out like two weeks ago, and Udar has four nominations, as does Ismail,” Fatima says smiling, sounding very proud of her Fiancé.

“Oh yes, I remember now, and Emma, since you are coming who are you wearing?” I ask her.

“I am wearing Michael Kors,” Emma says.

“That’s nice; I love their bags,” I say.

“Me too, they are really lovely,” Fatima says.

“Yeah, they are,” Emma agrees.

We finished eating lunch an hour ago. I am back at the office, and I have a lot of work to do. I can’t wait to be done and go home. I have so much work to catch up on because I was absent in the morning. It still feels unreal that I am leaving so soon. I am really going to miss this place.

Ismail and I are driving home after a long day at the office, when the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me starts happening. My stomach makes a loud noise while it starts to ache, and I need to go to the toilet any minute now. I can’t believe of all the times for me to have a bad stomach it had to be today. Have I not embarrassed myself enough in front of Ismail? What did I eat to put me in such a situation?

“Umit was that you, are you hungry? Should we stop and get something on our way?” Ismail asks, thinking the noise from my stomach is due to hunger, not knowing I need to use the restroom badly.

“No, drive home fast, really fast!” I say while I hold the door handle tightly, praying deeply the flatulence I am feeling right now does not come out and betray me. I don’t think I would be able to ever show my face in front of Ismail again.

“Are you sure, because I don’t mind stopping.”

“No, like I said drive faster,” I say feeling the fart close to coming out, but I hold it back in. I don’t dare release it and face humiliation in front of Ismail.

“Alright, if you say so,” Ismail says increasing his speed home.

“Thank you,” I say finally feeling a bit better.

Ismail gets to his house in time because I don’t think I could hold it in any longer. He parks the car; I quickly open the door and walk inside as fast as I can but trying as much as possible not to be too obvious, that I am rushing to the toilet. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah) the first door I open is a toilet.

Two minutes later I am done, but less than a minute after I am back in the toilet. I can’t believe of all days for me to have diarrhea, it had to be today in Ismail’s house. I don’t think I will be able to face Ismail again after today. I come out of the toilet for the second time, and this time my stomach hurts far more than before. It feels like they are stabbing my stomach countless times while twisting it at the same time. It hurts so bad; I just wish the pain would stop.

“Umit, are you alright, you don’t look too good,” Ismail says walking into the living room.

“I am fine,” I say sitting down on the couch, but I don’t even get to sit down for more than 2 minutes before I rush back to the bathroom, and this time I vomit. Ya Allah, please make the pain go away. It’s hurting me badly.

“Umit, you are not fine, I am calling a doctor,” Ismail says sounding very worried while he picks up his phone and starts dialing a number.

“No, there is no need. If I take a painkiller, I will be fine. Please, could you help me by going to the pharmacy?” I ask holding my belly in pain while I take a seat on the couch.

“Alright, if you say so. But if you don’t feel better in an hour, I will call a doctor,” Ismail says, sounding very concerned. I am kind of happy he cares about my health, not that I am happy with my condition, but it’s nice to have him care and be worried for me. I even forgot the fact that my situation is very embarrassing, but rather I am filled with joy from his affection.

“That’s fine with me. Let me just get my handbag and write it down for you” I say looking around, but I can’t find my handbag. Oh, I forgot I was in such a rush to get out of the car, I left it in the car. I stand up from the couch to get it, but Ismail stops me.

“Where are you going?” He asks blocking my path while he makes me sit back down.

“I was going to get my handbag,” I say feeling my stomach get worse by the minute.

“You are in no condition to go anywhere, and your handbag is here. I brought it in for you,” he says handing me my handbag.

“Thank you,” I say, taking it from his hand. I remove pen and paper and write down the name of the drug and give it to him.

“I will be back as quick as I can with the drug, but in the meantime, why don’t you lie down in the guest room and see if you can get some rest. The door opposite mine is a spare room. You can lie down in there while you wait for me.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“You are welcome, I will be back soon,” he says and walks out the door in quick steps while I take the stairs to the guest room. Holding the bannister while going up, praying I don’t fall from how weak I am.

I don’t even have time to admire the room before I rush to the bathroom and use it. I think that is the third or fourth time I have gone today, and every time I go, it makes me feel worse than before. The pain is also not helping matters. I drag myself to the bed, praying I can get some sleep and feel better before Ismail comes back with the painkillers.

I go to the toilet one more time before I am finally able to get some sleep. The next time I open my eyes I am feeling much better, but I still feel a little weak. I look to the side table and see the drugs I asked Ismail to get with a bottle of water. I take the pills praying In Shaa Allah (If Allah Wills) it works fast, because although the pain has subsided it might come back. I go back to sleep praying In Shaa Allah (If Allah Wills) I don’t wake up to go to the bathroom again.

I sleep for a couple of peaceful hours with no toilet breaks. I wake up later in the night to perform Maghrib (Evening) and Isha (Night) prayers. I decide to lie down and sleep a bit more before I need to go home, but the next time I open my eyes, you won’t believe what time it is.