The Untainted
Chapter 82: Boundaries
The week at home had done little to ease Ridwan's turmoil.
If anything, it had worsened it.
His parents noticed.
How could they not?
The laughter that once came so easily to their son had disappeared.
The mischievous spark in his eyes had dulled.
Dark circles had taken permanent residence beneath them.
Every morning at breakfast, he pushed his food around his plate, eating only enough to avoid questions.
His mother exchanged worried glances with his father.
"He's losing weight," she whispered one morning.
"And sleep," his father replied quietly. "Look at his eyes."
"What do you think is wrong?"
His father sighed.
"If he wants to tell us, he will."
But the concern remained.
Unknown to Ridwan, his parents had their own hopes for the future. They had always admired the bond between their son and Basit. They loved Basit's family dearly. They are family friends. In fact they pray something good could bloom between the two family like marriage so they can become more closer.
Yet they had never planned to force anything.
Marriage wasn't something to be arranged through pressure.
If Allah willed it, love would bloom naturally.
If their children chose each other freely, then Alhamdulillah.
If not, they would accept Allah's decree.
Fate would take its course.
Little did they know that somewhere in their own separate worlds, two young hearts were fighting battles they couldn't name aloud.
And even less did they know that fear had become Ridwan's closest companion.
Fear of losing Basit.
Fear of destroying a friendship that had become brotherhood.
Because Basit was all he could ask for in a friend.
While Ridwan was fighting against his interest for the sake of brotherhood and their bond. Basit saw the changes in him.
He noticed Ridwan withdrew himself from his sister intentionally.
He understood enough to know something had shifted.
Yet he chose silence.
He was giving Ridwan time.
Time to understand his feelings.
Time to sort through whatever storm was brewing inside him.
He wouldn't interfere.
Not until Ridwan himself was ready to speak.
Unfortunately, Ridwan interpreted that silence differently.
He thought if Basit discovered the truth...
he might lose him forever.
After a week at home, the trio returned to campus.
Lectures resumed.
Assignments piled up.
Life attempted to regain its rhythm.
One evening after watching a football match, Basit nudged Ridwan.
"Come over," he said. "It's been a while."
Ridwan hesitated.
Then nodded.
Basit's apartment was only next door to his own within the male residence compound.
They are neighbors.
A familiar and a safe place to him.
Or so Ridwan thought.
The two entered the apartment.
Ridwan stepped into the living room.
And froze.
Time stopped.
Faridat sat lounging on the couch.
She appeared to have just finished bathing.
Her damp hair spilled over her shoulders as she carefully combed through it.
She wore a short nightdress suitable for the privacy of a home, unaware that company had arrived.
For one brief, dangerous second...
Ridwan looked.
Then his entire body stiffened.
His heart slammed violently against his ribs.
The image burned itself into his mind.
Astaghfirullah.
He immediately turned away.
Lowering his gaze.
His breathing uneven.
She was non-mahram.
He shouldn't look.
He couldn't look.
Then Basit's thunderous voice shattered the silence.
"FARIDAT! WHAT NONSENSE IS THIS?!"
Faridat jolted.
The comb slipped from her fingers.
"How dare you sit here like this when you know my friend might walk in with me at any time?"
His voice echoed through the apartment.
"Don't you have sense anymore?"
"Or have you become so careless that you don't realise the kind of situation you're creating?"
Ridwan winced.
He didn't turn around.
Even though a traitorous part of him wanted another glance.
He restrained himself.
"Bro," Ridwan said quietly, "keep your voice down. The whole building can hear you."
"No, Ridwan!" Basit snapped. "What was she thinking?"
Faridat stood, clutching the edge of her nightdress.
"I... I was just trying to dry my hair..."
Her voice grew smaller.
Her eyes shifted briefly toward Ridwan.
Basit's expression hardened further.
"Get inside now!"
"Are you still standing there?"
Anger.
Embarrassment.
Humiliation.
Tears blurred Faridat's vision.
Without another word, she ran into the room.
The door closed behind her.
Silence descended.
Ridwan finally turned toward Basit.
"You can caution and correct her," he said softly, "but can you do it gently?"
Basit ran a hand through his hair.
"Ridwan..."
He looked directly at him.
"Tell me truthfully."
Ridwan's stomach tightened.
"You saw what she was wearing, right?"
Ridwan remained silent.
"It was a short nightdress."
Silence.
"Her hair?"
Basit continued.
"Damp. All over the place."
Silence.
"Tell me honestly. What was your first reaction when you saw her?"
Ridwan choked.
Heat climbed up his neck.
He didn't want to answer.
Didn't want to think about it.
Because for that brief second...
she had looked beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
He sought refuge in Allah inwardly.
Basit let out a tired sigh.
"I thought so too," he said.
"As a man, I know that sight can affect someone."
He paused.
"How would you feel if your future wife was seen like that by a non-mahram?"
Ridwan lowered his eyes.
Basit continued quietly.
"Not to talk about the thoughts or fantasies it might trigger."
"But I'm not..." Ridwan started before stopping himself.
He exhaled.
"...I know what she did was wrong. I understand your point."
He glanced toward Faridat's closed door.
"But she looked frightened."
"And sad."
Basit's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"If it wasn't you who followed me in today, what then?"
Ridwan listened.
"She knows this is male residence," Basit said.
"Yes, I'm her brother. But I also have a very close friend who visits often."
He pointed toward the neighbouring apartment.
"Your apartment is literally next door. You can come over anytime."
"She stays in the female hostel now."
"Visiting me isn't wrong."
"But she needs to be cautious because I'm her brother, and this environment isn't exclusively private."
He sighed.
"I know you don't want me to be harsh on her."
Then Basit's lips curved into a teasing smile.
"I appreciate it."
"It means you care about her like fragile glass."
Ridwan's heart skipped.
The words carried an innocent meaning.
Yet somehow...
they sounded like something else entirely.
He looked away.
"D-don't misunderstand," he muttered.
Basit chuckled.
"Relax."
He glanced toward Faridat's room.
"She knows she's wrong."
"I'll give her a few minutes."
"I need to speak with her."
Ridwan nodded.
"I'll come back later."
Basit paused before giving him a grateful look.
"Thanks for understanding, bro."
"Let's meet tomorrow."
"Okay," Ridwan answered.
He turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
Without facing Basit, he added quietly,
"Be gentle, okay?"
Basit's expression softened.
"I will."
Ridwan nodded once.
Then stepped outside.
The cool evening air hit his face.
Yet it did nothing to calm the chaos inside him.
He had lowered his gaze.
He had restrained himself.
He had done what was right.
So why...
Why was the image of damp hair and tear-filled eyes refusing to leave his heart?
@OlukoyaZainab