“I’m pregnant”.
“You’re what — ”
“You heard me. I said I’m pregnant”.
“That can’t be… I mean, how? When?”
The noise of her cackle-like laughter from the other end of the phone interrupted the sleepy quiet of the night. He imagined her then; her long, black, silky hair askew, feline frame silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window. Bloody succubus he thought. Is she trying to trap me?
“Don’t be stupid. You can’t seriously be asking me for a lesson in biology at this hour” She retorted.
“Erm — ,” He paused long enough to swallow then said, “What are we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know”.
“I don’t want a baby. I told you I never want to have kids — ”
“I’m not having an abortion. That’s out of the question. So, don’t even go there!”
He waited almost a full minute before speaking again. His voice was low, and marred with regret.
“I can’t have kids, Zahra. I just can’t”.
“You selfish, arrogant bastard! If you think you can do this to me and get away with it, you’re highly deluded!”
“I haven’t done anything, Zahra. I’m not responsible for your pregnancy. Like I said earlier, I don’t want — I can’t have kids…literally. I had a vasectomy last year.”
The click from the other end of the line was the last thing he ever heard…
From her…
Today she met him.
He, who was skilled at fingering emotions.
Today, he met her too.
She, who was good at faking feelings.
In his head, she was game
In hers — a match
If her heart fluttered
She wondered
Butterflies or lies?
And when she laughed at his jokes
He pondered the realness of the sun in her eyes
Two players, one game
Playing a deck of aces
With cards of hearts
