OBLIVIOUS REDEMPTION

CHAPTER 92: Caged

~Some birds are not meant to be caged, Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild~

*********************************

Yasmeen

The setting sun burned the sky pink and orange in the same bright hues as always. It is amazing I thought, as I drove home from work. Sunsets did that here, their colors so brilliant, makes you forget that behind every pretty picture there could be an ugly story.

Ahmad's thoughts suddenly crossed my mind. He was a heartless monster, I thought. I wonder how he did not understand that life is short and that each day of love stolen from it was a crime against life itself

I saw our earlier selves as different people, acquaintances I had outgrown. I wondered how I could ever have been once his wife

The once familiar elements of our life together reduced to nothing more than occasional mentions in conversations and faces changing in photographs. Ahmad and his family exist to me now as nothing more than living proof that something can still hurt you, with no contact at all

I am surprised that I still carry that look in my eyes, The constant suffering of being too much and still not enough that I got from Ahmad's house

After our meeting with Ahmad, we didn't hear from him or his waliy. The only thing that followed was the rumors he kept spreading

Our parting was like a stalemate, Neither of us won. Yet both of us lost. And worse still, that unshakable feeling that nothing was ever really finished. For we are not divorced yet. Weeks have passed, but he refused to give me the divorce.

I realized he is not willing to let go until he sees for himself that there's nothing left to hold on to.

When he left that day, He began to dread the passing of time because the moment of departure was unyielding and would advance until it snatched away the wife he claimed he still loved. He felt that time was an assassin that couldn't be stopped.

He was dreading to give me the divorce and would give anything to slow down time, but time has a disobliging habit of speeding up.

Without me in his life, he felt out of place and out of time. He missed being connected to all. But connection came with responsibility, Duty choked independence and freedom. And these are things he doesn't seem to know how to handle

Ahmad had a decent life when he was with me, he was loved, he was well taken care of, he wasn't starving or maimed or orphaned. Yet somehow, it wasn't enough. He had a hole in him, and everything he took for granted slipped through it like sand.

His grief is like an amputation, and his hope an incurable haemophilia: you bleed and bleed and bleed. Like Schrödinger's cat inside a box you can never ever open.

His mind scolded him for his stupidity and urged him to forget me but his heart had no justifications for its stand. It remained unmoved, its solidarity unaffected, its arrogance still holding.

Waiting for the divorce is like waiting for rain in the drought. Useless and disappointing.

I am like a butterfly with broken wings, left hanging in the middle, undefined and uncertain, without an identity. I wasn't married, or single or divorced

There I was, cold, isolated and desperate for something I knew I couldn't take by myself, A divorce, A solution, A remedy, Anything

Like a butterfly stuck in a chrysalis, waiting for the perfect moment, I was waiting for the day I could burst forth and fly away and find my new home

I was walking to my room when I heard a commotion in the living room, I took a step closer and listened. I figured it was about me

"Yasmeen is going back to her husband's house, I refuse to let her be a divorcée" I heard someone say

I wondered why after the dust have settled someone has to come by and blow at it, stirring it up into the air again.

Furious, I quickly barged in. My heart skipped a beat when I saw aunt Hilwa, my fathers younger sister

Aunt Hilwa is one of the few that are strongly against me getting divorced. She is holding on to the belief that I and Ahmad, our love is so deep it cannot be undone, not even with the darkest magic in existence. She believes she has the power to fix my marriage

Aunt Hilwa has an old man's caution and a young man's ambition, and has never lacked for cunning.

She doesn't believe in patience or hard work, Deception and misdirection are her favorite tools

With the characteristic of cunning love, she manipulated the future, Becoming her husband favorite wife.

Thus far she had outwitted her husband and co wives and triumphed over it. She was constantly compelled to resort to being cunning because she wanted nothing but to be loved unconditionally by her husband and to secure a permanent place in his heart

She has a narrow head, a stubborn mouth, and quick-tempered eyes. She was never that honest of a person, she belonged to the world of the cunning cowards

She feels life is for the taking, and that herself and her loved ones deserve happiness no matter what the cost.

According to her, Those two married knives bound by a single thread sitting in Ahmad's bed side drawer were the beginning of my problems, the root of all evil and the source of our misery. She believes that we both are not acting on our own accord

"Like who gives you locally made knives that are married right after your wedding, and tells you to keep them in your bedroom where all the sacred act takes place no matter what. Do you think that person wishes you well?" Aunt Hilwa asked, as soon as our eyes met

"I..... am .... don't know" I stammered. But now that she pointed it out, she made perfect sense

"If you can please let me handle this, I swear it would be undone and our daughter will be back at her rightful place, in her husbands house. I can even add a little something to the package" she pleaded with my mom who doesn't seem to agree with her

She continued....

"A knife always means cut, and those were meant to cut the love that Yasmeen and her husband had for each other, to cut their marriage and any decent relationship between them" Aunt Hilwa added, desperately wanting to convince us

But I thought it really doesn't matter even if it was true, The person that gave the knives to Ahmad wanted us apart and she'll never stop until it happens. Why go through the trouble? it's not worth it.

I quietly left the living room, not wanting to know how the conversation ends. That's because I am tired of listening to people talk about my situation, my decision and my future

Everyone had their own theory, and they believed that their truth was the only one that mattered. They spent days, nights and weeks, talking, never accepting the fact that, I have already made my choice. Good or bad, I'm ready to live with the consequences of my choices

People kept coming forward, with different stories about Ahmad and his family. And people kept exposing the secrets they have managed to hide from us for quite a while, some believable and some unbelievable

When they are asked why they didn't say anything before the marriage, they give the same answer "That nobody wants to be the devils companion for only he can stop a sacred and beautiful act like marriage"

Some ask for Ahmads or his mother's phone number to talk to them, but I refuse to share it. I have already made up my mind, Talking to them will not change anything

But some talked to people I and Ahmad know in common behind our backs, and it solved nothing. Only that they found out a despicable secret about them or another horrible rumor Ahmad had been spreading about me.

*****************************

Thanks For Reading 🙏
Love You All ❤️🌹
Don't Forget To Vote, Share & Comment 👍🏼✌🏼