Chapter 27
Yeah, yeah, yeah. We all hate Amira, etc.
The Amira in my fanfic is a nice one ^^ At least, that's how she is in my mind as I'm writing this. But this is me writing, so she could turn out absolutely horrible by the time I've finished, seeing as I change my mind as I write all the time ;)
LOL omg, I've realised I'm a horrible person. I really enjoyed writing the last chapter even though Christian's all depressed. I give up. I now conform to the group we all call 'angst whores.'
Oh, and the first part is from the play 'A Streetcar Named Desire' and I felt that is described Amira's feelings pretty well.
MirrorSlash xxxxxx
AMIRA
"He was a boy, just a boy. And I was a very young girl...when I made the discovery – love. All at once and much, much too completely. It was like you suddenly turned a blinding light on something that had always been in half shadow, that's how it struck the world for me. But I was unlucky. Deluded. There was something different about the boy...a softness and tenderness which wasn't like a man's, although he wasn't the least bit effeminate looking – still, that thing was there...He came to me for help. I didn't know that. I didn't find out anything until after our marriage when we'd run away and come back and all I knew was I'd failed him in some mysterious way and wasn't able to give him the help he needed but couldn't speak of! He was in the quicksands and clutching at me – but I wasn't holding him out, I was slipping in with him! I didn't know that. I didn't know anything except I loved him unendurably, but without being able to help him or help myself. Then I found out. In the worst possible of ways. By coming suddenly into a room that I thought was empty – which wasn't empty, but had two people in it...my husband and my friend..."
I'd told all that to Ahmed Adani and he hadn't turned away from me. Instead, he'd held me closer in a warm embrace, peppered kisses on my head, rained them down on my face and my neck and...I'm not proud to say it, but we made love right there and then. Once a fallen woman, always a fallen woman I guess. I didn't feel guilty afterwards. Well, not much. It had taken a year and a half after our marriage for me to cheat on Syed. It had taken him only a week.
I love Ahmed. He's good to me and he's good to my daughter too. I don't know if I can compare it to how much I loved – love – no, loved Syed. That love was blinding, startling, innocent and uncontrollable. With Ahmed I just feel...safer. I can trust him.
But he's not the father of my child, and as Yasmin grows older, I can see more and more of him in her face. She has his eyes, a deep, rich, chocolate brown. She has his nose, his dark wispy hair, and his smile...and I know that it's not fair to keep her from her dad.
Which is why I'm back in Walford.
"Amira."
'Shocked' is an understatement. I can tell my appearance has been a kick in the teeth for him, because he just stands there and stares and stares at me, Yasmin and Ahmed.
"What is this?" he finally says. He's talking like he hasn't got a breath left in him. He's still standing in the doorway, his hand on its frame, steadying himself.
"Hello Syed," I say in a tight and controlled voice. Just like I've been practicing for the past month. Hopefully my voice doesn't convey what I really feel. And what is that? I find myself wondering. What did you expect to see?
I can't lie to myself anymore. The years have been good to him – he's leaner, and wearing clothes that are...well, fashionable. The Syed I knew couldn't have cared less about clothes, in fact, I had to pick them out for him. He's every bit his gorgeous self. He's even more, well, good looking than I remember and I hate him for it. "Are you going to let us in then?"
"Yes, yes of course," he jolts back into action and swings the door wide open for us.
"It was quite a task to find you," I say matter-of-a-factly, taking Yasmin's hands and guiding her forward. It takes every bit of willpower not to add: "Look, that's your daddy," and I don't think Syed has quite figured it out yet. "Neighbours told me you'd moved."
"Too many bad memories in that house," he replies nervously, wiping his hands down on his trousers and glancing at Ahmed. Ahmed is quite a hefty man and I can immediately tell what he is thinking.
"Calm down!" I laugh, "Ahmed isn't another of my father's men. We're not here for revenge or anything like that. Syed...this is Ahmed Adani,"
"Oh," is all Syed says, extending an arm out of Ahmed, and looking at me curiously.
"...my boyfriend," I announce proudly. Then I raise an eyebrow. "And where's yours then?"
SYED
Hadn't been expecting that. Really hadn't. I don't know what to do. Oh help. Her boyfriend? What's going on? This is too much to deal with. I'd really just planned to do some more cleaning and then go straight to bed and think about Christian. This is too much.
"He's...not here." Then I deflate. What's the point in lying? "He hasn't been here for a while. We, I mean, we..."
"You split up, didn't you?" Amira says knowingly, mockingly even. She slips a hand around Ahmed's waist and plants a kiss on his cheek. "Cheaters never prosper," she adds.
I feel like she's just kicked me in the gut. That's why she's here. To flaunt her new family in front of me...when I have nothing. I deserve it as well. I know I do.
"Have a seat," I speak as if strangled, once we've reached the living room. "Would you like a drink?"
Ahmed asks for a coke, and Amira just asks for water. But the way she's looking at me, I imagine she wants my blood.
"Anything for...err...?" I gesture at the child on her lap. She looks really young. But not young enough. A year or so? My head is spinning...
"Any juice if you have it," Amira says politely, her voice saccharine sweet.
"Sure," I respond, still not exactly sure of what I'm doing. That guy – Ahmed – is fixing me with a pretty weird look. "I've got apple juice, blackcurrant, orange..."
"Orange!" The little girl says decisively. "Or-ange."
"It's her favourite," Amira explains.
"Mine too," I smile. We look at each other for a short while, and in those few seconds, hundreds of questions fill the air between the two of us. Then I turn away towards the kitchen.
What is going on?
"It's such a shame that Christian isn't here. I was looking forward to having a catch-up with my good friend," Amira says, the smile never leaving her face.
"Yeah," I mutter. I'm out of my depth here. The ball's in her court – and I've never been good at dodge ball. She's placing a hand on Ahmed's now, and even though I no longer love her, even though Christian has my entire heart, something inside me hurts. I don't like being replaced. I guess I'm vainer than I thought.
"How's life treated you since I left? Well, pretty much since I was banished, disgraced..."
I try to smile, but it falters and I feel more like crying.
"I see it's treated you pretty well,"
"Ahh yes, well I met Ahmed. He's one of my dad's business associates...and we fell in love," the hand rested on his takes this opportunity to squeeze his. She's doing this on purpose, and it's getting to me.
Strike one.
"This man is amazing, really. At everything." She catches my eye and allows the message to sink in. She means 'in bed.' One of the many things I hadn't been able to give her. If she knew how guilty I felt, she wouldn't be doing all this. Or maybe she would?
Anyhow it's Strike two, and I grip the arm of the chair I'm sitting on, feeling queasy.
"Evidently," I speak through gritted teeth, nodding at the little child still on her lap.
"No," Amira looks serious. "There are two reasons why I came here today. Firstly, Ahmed and I are getting married..."
I barely have time to process the information before she continues quickly,
"...And secondly...this child needs her father."
"Wha...what are you saying?"
"You have a daughter, Syed," she smiled gently.
Strike three and I'm out.
"Can I...?" I ask tentatively. My heart leaps for joy as Amira nods and I bend down and scoop up the little bundle of beauty into my arms. "What's her name...?"
"Yasmin."
Yasmin. It's beautiful. She's beautiful. She has her mother's gorgeous looks...but looking into her eyes is like looking into mine. She's mine. She is. This isn't made up. I grin and hold her tightly to my chest. She looks up at me, laughing. The laughter is infectious and soon we've both got the giggles. Father and daughter. I can't...I can't even comprehend this moment. I never thought...I wipe the tears from my eyes, a huge grin still stretched across my face.
"She's beautiful," I finally say.
Amira is looking pretty emotional too.
"How..?" I continue, happy, but completely confused. "I mean, we only..."
"Once is enough," Amira reminds me, and I shake my head in bewilderment. "She's mine," I say.
"Ours,"
"And she's gorgeous." I plant a kiss on her nose. If only Christian were here to see this...
Amira laughs. "I just...I just didn't want her growing up without her biological dad,"
I drag my eyes from Yasmin for a short second and look at Amira.
"Thank you."
Then I'm back to staring at Yasmin, jiggling her up and down in my arms, chucking her chin, tapping her nose...she laughs loudly and throws her arms in the air. I'm astounded by how small she is, how and delicate and beautiful each one of her tiny fingers are.
I never thought it would be like this. Christian and I had applied to adopt, and I wanted a child, I just never knew it would feel this amazing.
"You're my baby..." I whisper into her curls lovingly. "Yasmin..."
And I know as sure as I know myself that I will kill anybody that tries to harm her. I won't let anything come between the two of us ever again.
