Swipe Of Love

20

♕ O M A R P O V ♕

"I'm Omar. Omar Kateb," I smiled, shaking his hand.

"Mind if I walk with you?" he questioned.

"No. Not at all," I answered, walking out of the locker room.

"So you're the son of the billionaire, Antonia Kateb. However, you don't show that. Why?" He questioned, walking next to me.

"To me, it is not about having the money or showing off. I don't like to show people that I'm rich, or my mom is the richest Muslim woman in Paris. I dislike bragging about having money because It's not about how rich or poor you are. It's about what's inside your heart. It's about living your life according to what Allah and Prophet Muhammad (saw) said. In this world, Nothing counts. What counts is the world Hereafter. All the good and bad deeds count when you pass away. Nobody is going to take your deeds on them. You have to take it on yourself. Nobody knows if they are going to heaven or hellfire," I explained.

"Mashallah, you are a wise young man. I don't think in my entire life, I have heard a teen talk like that. Who taught you to speak like that?" he asked, curiously looking at me.

"My mom," I proudly spoke.

"Wow, she sounds like an amazing person," he smiled.

"She is. She is the best mother anyone can ever have. You look like a businessman. What are you doing in the boy's locker room?" I asked.

"Well, I had some unfinished business to do. It was nice meeting you. We will meet very soon," Walid promised.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You will see my boy. You'll see," He smiled, getting in the car, driving away.

Okay. Weird much? Who was that man? He sounded as if he knew mom. If he did, then how? Keeping that in mind, I got in the car. I put the seatbelt on and put the key in the engine. As the car start, I backed out of the parking lot. I hit the gas and started to drive. However, stupid Hakeem ran in front of my car. Putting my feet on the break quickly, I put the car in20 Park. I jumped out and slammed the door shut. I stormed toward him.

"Are you out of your damn mind? I could have run you over!" I yelled at him.

"Sorry, man," he mumbled.

"Just don't do that next time," I sigh.

"I need a ride."

"Okay, but mind telling me, what are you doing here?" I raised my eyebrow.

"I came here to get help for my math class," he lied, looking anywhere but me.

"Alright, what's the matter? You seem down," I sigh, looking at him.

"Nothing. I'm just tired," Hakeem lied again.

"Dude, I know when you are lying. Don't give that crap about being tired. How about we go someplace and talk," I suggested.

"I don't want to talk about it. Are you going to give me a ride or what?" Hakeem snapped.

"Okay. Chill dude. Get in the car," I said.

"Thanks," he got in the car.

Putting on my seatbelt, I hit the gas once again. Hakeem was quiet. Too quiet for him. He is never this silent and is usually saying a stupid remark or dumb jokes. Something is off today. But what? The problem is that I can't force him to tell me if he doesn't want to. How can I make him talk to me? I turned toward my right, only to see him looking out the window. I turned my face straight once again, keeping my eyes on the road. This is ridiculous.

"I am craving some frozen yogurt. How about you," I broke the silence.

"Not really," he sighs.

"Come on, man! We haven't gone to one of our favorite frozen yogurt stores for a very long time. Since the store is on the way to your home, why don't we stop by? But this time, it's on me. What you say?" I asked.

"Whatever," he mumbled.

What the hell is wrong with this guy? I tried to control my anger by releasing my breath. This is harder than I thought. I have to make somehow him talk to me.

♕ A N T O N I A P O V ♕

"Ahh, detective Achille. Thank you so much for coming," I smiled, standing up from my seat.

"Hello, Ms. Kateb. This is my partner, Hunter," he introduced.

"Welcome. Please have a seat," I spoke. Grabbing my telephone, I ordered some snacks for them.

"I am sorry for keeping you waiting. As you know, I have a son who acts like a goof-ball. If I am not there to eat, he won't eat at all," I chuckled, shaking my head.

"It's alright. I know how kids are. I have a 6-year-old at home," he threw his head back and laughed.

"I believe you have some information on the girls for me?" I questioned, sipping my morning coffee.

"Yes, we do. We have some bad news too. Which one you wanna hear first?" Detective Hunter asked.

"Bad news, please," I answered.

"The day Kathy and Gabby departed to the airport, their mother passed away," He sighed.

"Oh, Lord!" I gasped in shock. It must have been hard for them to leave.

"Not only that. We believe that both girls never went to Madrid in the first place," he informed.

"That's impossible. But how? They told me they were going to Madrid," I stated.

"Here. Take a look at this file," detective Achille handed me a brown file with both of the girls' names on it. The folder was thick that had numerous papers inside it.

"This file has all the records on where they have been, who they talked to, and other information," Hunter explained.

Reading through it, I asked, "how come nobody filed a missing case on them besides me?"

"That's what we are thinking also. The girls were last seen in France. This city. Do they have any enemies? Or any family member that I can contact?" Achille queried.

"No. Not that I know of...Unless. Wait, their father. The girls didn't have a good relationship with their father. They told me that Gabby was separated from Kathy and her mother by her father. He kept Gabby away for 18 yrs. After 18 yrs, they met and decided to leave the USA. This is all that I know," I acquainted them.

"Looks like we are back to square one again. What now?" Achille sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Actually, why don't you call him in to ask a question. You can get something from him," I suggested.

"I don't think that the USA will let us. But we can try," He said.

"Thank you, gentlemen, for all your help. I appreciated it," I grinned.

"That's what we do. So no need to thank us. May I ask a question?" Hunter smiled.

"Of course," I answered.

"Are-Are-"

"Just ask already," Achille snapped.

"I am asking, Dude. Are you single?" he asked.

"Don't you know that already?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah. But do you have a boyfriend or something?" He asked.

"No. I am single. Why?" I asked.

"I thought if you can like... Can I take you out for dinner?" He looked at me with hope.

"Yes, but not as a date, but as a friendly dinner date. And I have to have a family member or a female friend with me. If it is okay with you?" I asked.

"Oh. Is it Muslim law? Then it's fine with me," he smiled.

"Yes, it is a Muslim law. However, I get to choose a place. I will let you know the date and time," I spoke.

"It's fine with me. As long as I get the dinner date," Hunter smirked.

"Okay," I laughed.

I escorted them out of my house. I went back to my office and logged into my email. I started to reply to all my emails. After answering back to 100 emails, I looked at my watch. What??!

1:00 pm

Omar was still not home yet. Where is that boy?

I grabbed my iPhone 6 and started to text Omar. Realizing he hasn't texted me back, I texted him again. Why isn't he texting back? Is he okay? Where is he? Let him come home today; he will have to deal with me.

"Kateb?! Kateb?!" A female voice screamed from downstairs.

Getting up from my seat, I immediately walked downstairs. When I got there, I saw Noor standing in front of a woman I did not know.

Walking up to them, I asked: "What is going on here?"

"Where is my son?" she yelled.

"First, this is a respected person's house. Please use an inside voice. Second, I don't know you nor your son. How am I supposed to know where he is," I spoke calmly.

"Your son, Omar, took him," she snapped.

"My son? I know my son from the bottom of my heart. He would never do something like that," I crossed my arm.

"He kidn*pped my son," she accused him.

"No one kidn*pped no one," an unknown voice spoke. Everyone turned toward the door. There stood Omar with a boy around his age, who I never met.

Who is this boy?

Omar brings every single friend to the house, but he never took this boy.

"Oh, Hakeem! I was so scared and worried for you," the woman ran up to him.

"Oh, so you're worried and scared about me now," the boy, who I assume has Hakeem stepped away.

"Assalam-o-Alaikum, mom," Omar smiled.

"Walaikum Aalam. You have some explaining to do, young man," I gave him a hard look.

"You!" the woman stormed toward Omar, "what did you do to my son? What rubbish have you put into my child's brain?"

"He did Nothing, mother! He only showed me something that you never did. He told me amazing things that you never bothered to say," Hakeem's voice cracked, stopping his mother from speaking.

"I don't know what you are talking about. I did everything that a mother would do," she affirmed.

"That's where you're wrong, mom! You never did what a mother would do for her child. You abandoned me, mom! You made me feel useless. You never gave two sh!t about me!" he yelled, pointing his fingers at her.

"Hakeem, that is not the right way to speak to your own mother. I am sure that she has a big reason behind this." I tried to explain it to him. He is fierce right now. Whatever comes out of that mouth of his won't be right. He will regret it later.

"A reason? A reason for what? You tell me. A good reason for her to tell me every day that it's my fault for my father's death. A reason for her to tell me every single day that she wishes that she never gave birth to me. There was a reason for her to wish I never existed on this earth!" he raised his voice as the tears ran down his cheek.

Oh, the poor child! The boy has been through a lot. No wonder he broke down this easily. She had no right to say that to her son.

"Mom? Wanna know how I felt when you said all those things to me? I actually started to believe you. I felt worthless, useless; I felt like I didn't belong on this earth. I have had enough of this, mom. I wanted to kill myself. I never wanted this life. Never. I always tried my best to get your love back. I always tried to show you that I am a good son. But never have you ever took me that way. NEVER!" he roared, wiping his tears away.

"I...I need-"

"Don't worry! You won't have to see this ugly face anymore. I'll walk out of your house, and your life just like you always wanted," he stepped back, rapidly turned around, and walked out the door.

"Hakeem!" she cried out, "Hakeem, listen to me, please."

Hakeem shook his head, not wanting to listen at all.

"I'm going to talk to him," Omar spoke, walking after Hakeem.

"Do you wanna come in?" I asked nicely.

She nodded her head; I gave her a sad smile. We strolled into the living room. She took a seat on the sofa while I took place on the armchair. No sound was heard except for her sniffing. Grabbing a napkin, I handed it to her. Mumbling a 'thank you,' she took it from me.

"You know, in life, there are two things that happen to women. Two best things in this world that every woman dreams of." I crossed my legs.

Wiping her nose, she looked at me, "Oh yeah?"

"Yes. One is getting married to a man that will love you. That will protect you for the rest of your life. The second one is starting a family. Giving birth to a child. That day is the happiest day for every woman on this earth, to see an innocent face that comes to this dangerous world. The face that brings a smile to everyone's face," I grinned, squeezing her hand.

"I never knew that I hurt my baby boy that much. After losing my husband, I completely broke down. I was furious at myself. I wanted to take all my exasperation out on someone. I was so foolish enough to take it out of Hakeem. I am just a terrible mother," she shed her tears, shaking her head.

"You are not a terrible mother. Everyone makes mistakes in this world. We are human beings; We are not perfect. You were blinded by Satan. He wanted to make you do all those bad things you never wanted to do," I explained.

"I don't know how I am going to fix all this," she sighs, looking out the window.

"Our Prophet (PBUH) once said, 'whoever curbs his anger, while being able to act, Allah will fill his heart with certain faith.' Anger is a weapon that can destroy everything. I can give you some advice, but you have to promise me that you will control your rage in the future," I told her.

"Please. I promise. Help me get my son back. Please," she begged, grabbing my hand.

"I can't get him back for you. However, you can," I began.

"Then, how?" she asked.

"Well, you need to prove to him that you still love him; you understand your mistake. Hakeem is a broken boy who needs help. Who needs love again in his life, but most of all, he needs his mother back. If he keeps thinking that he is a loser, hopeless, and ineffective, he can fall into a great depression. If I were you, I would take him to a nice place and spend some time with him. Make him feel like he is being loved by his mother again," I clarified.

"Thank you very much. I am very sorry for my earlier behavior. I shouldn't have done that." She apologized.

"I completely understand—no need for that. I would have done the same thing if I were in your place. Don't worry; everything will be fine, inshallah," I smiled.

"Inshallah. Thank you once again," she hugged me.

"You're welcome," I returned the hug.

I accompanied her out of the house. Life can be challenging many times, but all you have to do is put faith and trust in Allah. Allah does everything for a reason. Allah will protect you from bad things. Always pray your five daily prayers.