14 Fatal doses of rain and music

This issue with Jamal was different. It was a combination of fatal doses of rain and music. She would never in her right senses let that happen again and she merely had to ignore Jamal long enough for him to get the message. Eventually he would stop his foolishness and return to his wife, they would never speak of this again. Rabi was not that person. Jamal was not that man. Nabila would never abide to be a jilted wife. The actors did not fit their roles and so there would be no show, no cliché to re-enact. She deleted the text and went to bed.

A whole month goes by and Jamal relents in his pursuit of Rabi. The frequency of the phone calls, texts and emails slowed to a trickle and eventually halted. Rabi suddenly had too much free time on her hands, getting her to realise how much of it she previously spent talking with or writing to Jamal. Her lunch hour seemed longer and she hated the surveillance she had to undertake just to buy suya. Their interests had become so merged, that she had to remind herself who found the grilled fish restaurant, who owned the CD in the car radio, and she cursed loudly when her phone reminder beeped with Jamal's deadline; with a suggestion to send a Good Luck text. "Rabi ba ke da hankali. How did you ever let it get this far?" she scolded herself. She pulled into the stone driveway at Nordica Fertility Centre. This was no doubt her best part of the week; volunteering here made her feel like she was making a difference although her impact she was sure was but a tiny, miniscule ripple on the surface of the whole issue of conception. Omon hailed her from her station "yarinya"- (young lady). Rabi laughed, "I do speak English you know".

"Ya ki ke?"-(how are you doing)? Omon greeted "Your sister told me to give you a one hour reminder about your appointment"

"Oh thank you" Rabi couldn't believe it had been a week already.

The first fortnight it was hard to sit next to her sister and hear her complain about Jamal. Rabi didn't know if it was because she felt guilty for what almost happened or because she knew firsthand how kind and generous and silly Jamal was. When her sister sighed and spoke about his hair, Rabi had to place her hands on her head to stop herself from nodding in agreement. That angered Yemi who had to repaint her middle finger with a new coat of cranberry nail varnish. Rabi didn't apologise. It was wonderful hair. It will be different this week; Jamal no longer called so her conscience was clear as day, she could finally relax and enjoy herself. She swung her door open and saw Jamal sat in the waiting room looking dejected. Rabi's heart gave a lurch and she coached herself before ignoring him and walking into her office. He came in after her.

"You've lost your manners" Jamal asked his voice hoarse

"Sanu Jamal"-(hello Jamal) Rabi spoke in the reserved tone she used to 

"As you no longer answer your phone. I decided to come see you in person"