005: S—sultan?

S—sultan?

Zayn couldn't deny his fingers moved, more like shook. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him. How many years has it been since he heard that word... or this voice?

Three years? Four years?

"Sultan," The voice called again, breaking through the troubled train of thoughts in his head.

A swoosh of breath escaped his mouth as he breathed out before answering,"Father." His eyes cautiously looked around the nearly deserted road like he was searching for someone.

He heard that familiar low happy laughter from the phone before the caller spoke again,"Zayn, you unfilial child. Do you even have any ounce of love in you for my wife? You didn't even contact her once. I really misunderstood your stubbornness."

A smile, a genuine one finally appeared on Zayn's face. "Father remember, you forbade me from contacting anyone in the family. Besides, your wife is my mother. She'll understand."

There was another low laughter at his sharp reply, briefly followed by a question. "How have you been son?"

"I've been surviving," He replied without that trace of bitterness I expected him to display. What's going on?

"I believe you didn't call me just to ask about my well-being. If so, I have the right to sue you for breaching your own part of the contract."

The man Zayn had just referred to as father chuckled again. "I haven't forgotten my own part of the deal. It's your twenty-fifth birthday tomorrow. According to my part of the contract, I'm expected to call you back home. Based on the reports, you've passed the test successfully."

"Father, my birthday is tomorrow not today. All I know is, you breached the contract and you should pay the fine."

"Alright," The caller gave off a I-GIVE-UP tone. "When you return home, we'll discuss the terms of the fine. I'll send the chauffeur over tomorrow with—"

A low shuffle disrupted the conversation. Zayn could hear someone else's voice over the phone but he couldn't hear what the person said.

In the next minute, his father regained possession of the phone and asked,"Your mother is here. Would you like to say hello? I'll advise you to be fast with your pleasantries as she's about to release a dam of tears."

Zayn chuckled, a low noise followed by sounds of laughter indicated that his mother had probably said something to refute his father's words.

Then he heard her teary voice. His father wasn't really lying when he said she was about to release a dam of tears but it'd be better rephrased as, she's about to cry a river. Pfft.

"Z...Zayn," She spoke slowly but tearfully.

A smile appeared on Zayn's face. The cold expression from before appeared to have melted away as he greeted her,"As-salaam-alaikum mother."

She literally cried. Her poor baby... How long has it been since they last spoke with each other? She's probably wishing she could fly to him through the phone.

Zayn was startled by her sudden cries. He tried to pacify her. "Mother... Why are you crying? Shouldn't you be happy? Your dear son is coming home soon. You'll be able to hug me and kiss me all you want tomorrow."

"If... If... I wasn't married to your father, I swear on the holy Qur'an, I would have ran away with you a long time ago... How could he have made you stay away from me for years!?" She sobbed.

Zayn nearly laughed then as he thought of how ashen his old man face must be looking right now, listening to his wife's plans to run away with their son.

"There's no need for that mother. I..."

"That's enough. You have overused your time," His father collected the phone again. He could even hear the grievance in the old man's voice. "I'll send them to get you tomorrow. Bye."

Then a tut-tut sound followed. Zayn looked at the phone and chuckled. That was it...? Such an old man like him is still eating vinegar.

He'd never expected his father to still have that childish behavior in him after so many years.

Zayn's eyes glazed and he clenched the phone tight in his hand. He'd really been stunned when the caller had said Sultan at first.

Not so many people know his association with that name. He'd already gotten used to people calling him Zayn Ahmed over the years that he had completely forgotten about that other name— Sultan.

With everything that's even been happening lately, he had forgotten about his own birthday. For the past two years or so, Omar used to be the one celebrating the birthday with him.

But now that the old man had fallen terribly ill till the point of death, he had simply forgotten about that special event.

Tomorrow, he is going to be twenty five and by tomorrow, he will have completed his own side of the deal he'd signed four years ago.

By tomorrow, he is expected to return to the Sultan's family.

Zayn looked at the restaurant again and his lips twerked up in a lopsided smile. It's uncertain what he was thinking as he grabbed the bike and pushed forward.

****

"I strictly warned you all never to let him take any other job besides being in the kitchen! Do you know how much you all have caused me to lose during this period of time!? How do you intend to pay me back!?"

This was the fracas Zayn came upon when he walked into the restaurant. He stopped at the doorway of the empty restaurant and watched the staff gathered round an overweight man with an average height.

The man is identified as Mr Mikhail, the person Mike was talking about over the phone earlier. His round face looked furious.

"Sir, the culprit is back," One of the staff announced in a malicious tone. Zayn looked at him. Just as he had expected. It's Noor, Noor Aziz.

Up till this moment, he still doesn't know what the heck Noor's problem is with him.