THE SERIAL MASK BY MORUFAT AJANI CHAPTER NINETEEN

 THE SERIAL MASK BY MORUFAT AJANI

CHAPTER NINETEEN

At Badru's shop, Don is already waiting. His heart is pounding, knowing what’s coming for him

Arriving at the shop, Badru walks straight inside. He is so angry to the point that he doesn't answer the greetings of his apprentice. Don follows behind like a dog about to be slaughtered.

The office door closes.

Before Don can even talk—

GBA!!

Badru’s fist flies fast and connects with Don’s face. A loud, clean blow.

Don staggers back, grabs his cheek and goes on his knees.

Badru’s breathing is wild. His voice thundered.

“You didn’t know on time? That’s what you said?! Then what the hell am I paying you for?!”

“Sir—”

“Last week I asked you and you said nothing new! Are you mad?!”

Don says nothing. He’s holding his face, trying to keep tears from falling. He wants to act tough and professional.

Don straightens. “I’m sorry, sir—”

Before he can finish, Badru charges again. This time, fists land harder. One. Two. Three. Blood spills from Don’s nose. He doesn’t fight back or  block it. He is just taking the be-ating like it’s part of his job.

After a while, Badru steps back, his hands trembling, and chest heaving.

Don wipes his face calmly. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Sorry for yourself, you useless fool!” Badru shouts. “Now talk, where is the job place?”

“It’s a therapy center, sir. I reached out to the owner once I found out. I tried to strike a deal but… he declined.”

“What? He declined? Who the hell does he think he is?! Where is it? Where is the therapy center?!”

Badru grabs a notepad, slams it on the table. “Write the name here. Now!”

Don writes quickly. Badru snatches the paper, barely reads it before barking, “Get out.”

Don nods and leaves without another word.

Left alone, Badru paces back and forth in the office, muttering furiously.

“Leila has gone rogue. She doesn’t submit or obey me anymore. And Hanan’s about to live a good life? A peaceful life?”

He stops pacing, his eyes glowing red.

“No. No. No. Never. It won’t happen. Not on my watch. Never!!!.” He yells the last part with all his might with his hands shaking uncontrollably. His head twitches, he grabs his car key and storms out. He is going to the Therapy center.

At the therapy center’s building parking lot, Badru parks his car and starts breathing in and out to calm himself. Knowing he might see Hanan at the place somehow makes him feel so anxious and angry. But should in case Hanan isn't the person who will attend to him, Badru is trying to calm himself so he can talk calmly to the person. After a while, he walks out of his car, locks its door and walks upstairs.

When he steps inside the therapy center, he greets the security at the entrance, acting like a quiet and calm client. His voice is low.

“The receptionist desk is across the hall.” The security says and he nods, walking forward slowly.

And then he sees her.

Hanan is sitting behind the desk, flipping through an appointment book. Her head is down, checking the schedule. She hasn’t looked up yet.

Seeing her, Badru freezes and his chest tightens in anger and sadness.

Hanan looks… fine. Not just fine. She looks good, clean, polished, and well-groomed. Her scarf is neatly tied, her skin glowing, and her nails painted red laali.

Why on earth does she look this good in just a week? Or is it because I have been seeing her on camera and didn't notice she has become this neatly beautiful? Badru thinks to himself.

Actually Don has always sent him pictures and videos of Hanan in everything she's been doing. When she was hunting for a job and getting disappointed. And also when she started working as a help at the restaurant. Don always sends Badru a video when washing plates, sweating and tired at the restaurant. She would just wear casual tattered clothes which is giving Badru joy and satisfaction that she's suffering as he wants. Unknown to him that Hanan and his daughter are actually being well-fed at the restaurant and are also sleeping well whenever they sneak back to Tawa's house. So now that she's well-dressed for office work and wearing a slight make-up, she looks so beautiful. Just like how she was before he married him.

Then Hanan finally looks up and sees him.

For a second, her hand stops mid-air and both of them stare at each other, speechless.

Then Badru’s jaw clenches. His face darkens and his eyes shooting daggers.

Hanan's whole body becomes so useless for a second and then it's shaking profusely.

Why is he here? To get me sacked? To get me out of this particular job again? To cut my happiness short? OMG. What did I do to this evil man to deserve all this devilish act? God, please help me. Please fight for me. Please don't let him succeed this time. Moyo’s creature, please work against this man in all ways. Yah Allah, please help me.

Hanan is praying inwardly while her heart is be-ating rapidly. But then she remembers looking weak gives Badru wings and makes him happy so she gathers her body together and acts like his presence has nothing on her. She decides to talk to him in a manner that will make him look like a loser. And definitely, his presence disgusts Hanan to the core.

Hanan’s voice is calm but firm as she says, “What are you doing here? Why are you in a therapy center?” She pauses, moves a little bit and tilt her head like she remembers something,

“Oh. Are you finally seeking help for being a psychopath?” Hearing that, Badru scowls. Hanan continues,

“Ehya. Unfortunately for you, this place is a therapy center and not a psychiatric home where you belong. Can I give you a good psychiatric home address?”

Hearing that, Badru clenches his hand in fury.

Oh, so you are so fit enough to even get a mouth to talk to me this way? How dare you? It's not your fault, it's that stupid Don that failed to do a proper job on you.

Then he remembers Hanan last words to him the last time they talked;

“Mark my words today. This is the last time you’ll see me like this–Crying, shaking and lost. Next time you see me, I’ll be standing tall and straight, and it’ll be you who will be looking for the ground to hide your face.”

She's right. She's actually standing tall, looking beautiful and no longer crying. And here I am, standing in front of her like a foolish loser that I am. A loser that I always am. Why can't I do anything perfectly? Why am I always finding myself at the bottom even after I thought I had climbed tall? Why can’t I ever win completely? Why does every attempt to dominate someone end in chaos? Why does everyone I try to break always find a way to rise again? Why are all my efforts in controlling people always crashing like this? They all always bounce back. Until the worst happens to them. They would go rogue, turn rebellious. They become everything I tried to k!ll in them. Like Hanan here right now and Leila at home. And everyone. Why am I such a failure? Why am I always powerless in the end?

He is feeling so sad that he can't even hide it. His jaw and hands are so tightly clenched.

“If you want to cry, please have your seat and grab a towel over there in case you want to clean your tears and catarrh.” Hanan says, pointing at a chair.

“But if you want to talk, let’s go downstairs. This is a professional space. I won't have you cause a scene here. Otherwise I will call security to drag you out.” Hanan adds, trying to act bold while deep inside she is collapsing over and over again.

Her tone cuts through Badru’s raging thoughts like a knife. He hates the confidence in her voice. He hates the way she doesn’t flinch or being affected by her.

Hanan steps out of her space and Badru follows her silently. His fists still remain clenched at his sides and fury burning in his chest.

As they are going, the notion of getting Hanan pregnant that he wished for and acted upon the night she left his house comes to his mind and his anger increases.

All this his bragging and boasting wouldn't have happened if she were to be pregnant. I remember how hard I tried to get her pregnant even before that night and especially that night. Why isn't she pregnant for heaven sake. She's supposed to be.

Downstairs, behind the building where no one can hear them, Hanan stops and faces him.

“What are you doing here, Badru? You are watching me, yes I know, I got your text that day. But haven’t you done enough? Haven’t you done enough damage in my life? Even the sun takes a break at night. Will you please rest on my matter now?” Hanan rushes the words and Badru scoffs bitterly. He ignores her questions and says what’s on his mind anyway,

“So you’re actually doing fine?” Badru asks,

“Yes. As you can see. You can choke on it for all I care.” Looking at Badru makes Hanan want to puke. He disgusts her.

“Why are you not  pregnant?” He asks through gritted teeth, forcing himself to calm down and not punch the wall.

Hearing that, Hanan opens her mouth ajar, thinking this man has totally lost it. What kind of person asks his ex this kind of question if not a psychopath like him anyway. She's surprised to hear that. He continues,

“You are supposed to be pregnant and suffering. You were supposed to be crawling around, begging for me help. You are not supposed to get a job as decent as this. You are supposed to continue being a maid at the restaurant. That’s what people like you deserve. That's what I wished would happen to you. I wish you will be pregnant so badly so you will have mouths to feed, two burdens on you. That was why I had sex with you the night you left my house. So tell me. I am curious. What did you do? You did something about it right?”

Hanan shakes her head, looking at him with pity, then crosses her arms.

“So your wish for me is to be pregnant again with you and suffer? Why?” she asks. Badru shrugs lightly.

“Nothing much. Just seeing you suffer makes me feel good,” he says.

Hanan’s lips curve into a brief, unbelievable smile that vanishes almost immediately.

“In fact, you’re becoming mad, Badru… If no one’s ever told you, I’ll say it now. You’ve totally lost it. I always thought you were normal when I lived with you, but hearing these evil wishes from your own mouth… I can’t believe it.” She spits out the words, irritation dripping from each syllable, while Badru boils inside.

Is she really calling me mad? Why am I so small in her eyes? he thinks.

Hanan continues, unbothered,

“So you think with the way you were moving mad back then I’d let you destroy me completely? No. I’m not that dumb. With all the chaos you were causing then, I had to help myself. It wouldn’t look right getting pregnant again for a man who did nothing for me during the first time. I protected myself, I did family planning without involving you.”

Badru’s head rings; disbelief and sorrow crash into his belly. His body tenses, and he kicks at the air, pacing. His lips tremble with rage.

“You witch! You deceived me all along?” he shouts.

Oh God… I’m really dumb. How could I not have known? He thinks.

His anger at himself burns hotter than anything else. All his life, he’s always thought of himself as foolish but today, he feels utterly useless.

Hanan smiles coldly.

“Deceive you? Look who’s talking. Chief deceiver. I’m sure you’re furious that you get played and defeated in your own game. But no, I didn’t deceive you. I protected myself,” she says, spitting out the words.

“I’m sorry I’m not suffering the way you want me to. You’re not God. Allah sent help to save me from you and your so-called ‘watching me.’ Allah is bigger than you, bigger than hundreds of you. And let me warn you: if you try to ruin this job for me like you did with the others, I won’t sit and watch. I’ll fight you with all my might.”

As soon as she finishes talking, she turns, striding back toward the therapy center. She doesn't want to leave her seat empty for long, fearing her boss might check on her or want her attention.

Badru stands frozen, every word Hanan uttered just now keeps replaying  in his mind, making him feel smaller, more powerless, and angrier than ever.

Hanan is not supposed to have a voice where he is. And the fact that family planning thwarted his plans for her drives him wild. He wants to scream, to destroy something. He stares at her retreating figure, thinking and plotting mercilessly.

Just as Hanan reaches the staircase, she stops and glances back.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. How’s Leila? The love of your life. I’m sure she’s leaving the best life of her life right now…with you. I wish her well.”

Then she bounds up the stairs two at a time, heading straight to her office, feeling so satisfied. She feels so grateful to Allah that Badru didn’t get the suffering-figure of her as he wanted. She's giving glory to Allah as he walks..