Being His(Updates Every Friday)

5.

Acceptance doesn't mean resignation; it means understanding that something is what it is and that there's got to be a way through it." —Michael J. Fox

Nadia kneaded a large piece of yeast dough, slamming her fist into it over and over angrily. Wleed min shokria by Eman El-Sharif was playing on the kitchen radio that Nadia's aunt insisted stay in the kitchen while they worked. 

She had barely gotten out of the scrubs she'd gone to work with when she returned back downstairs to pound on a piece of soft yeasty dough until it was for to make pizza. It was the only way to let go of the frustrating day she had had. 

She pounded it much harder and after a few more punches that could probably break a small person into pieces, she felt the dough between her index finger and thumb, feeling it's elasticity, she took a glass bowl and lifted the dough into it, drizzled Olive oil unto all parts of it before covering it tightly to sit for an hour. 

The back door opened and Sarah came in dancing something that looked like a cross between the dabke and the Kabesha surprised when she saw that the dough was sitting already. "That was quick, you sure sounded like you were hitting someone with your grunts and the way that dough was crying in your hands."

"I had a horrible day, nothing went how I wanted it to. I had to come back to bake because I don't have enough patience in me to knit, I'll just spoil it." She shook her head, knowing she had a baby birth set to knit and she'd only gotten halfway on the blanket. 

"What happened?" She started to speak but shut up and went to the sink to wash her hands clean. Sarah suddenly remembered what their mother had reminded them of, the previous day about today being a black day for Nadia, so she wisely shut up and decided to clean the mess in the kitchen. 

Sarah wet a dish rag and began to wipe down the surface Nadia had used, leaving Nadia free to go rest. 

Nadia climbed the stairs, tired to her bones but happy because it would give her room to go straight to bed immediately she got into her room, it would mean all she needed to do was fall in to bed and she'd be dreaming. 

She wanted to never wake up, because today, her parents experienced a humiliation that was bone deep. She should have been married today, her invitations were already printed and shared among family and friends, so they knew.

But in the time that she'd spent getting her life together after the insulting breakup, Ammar had turned around gotten married in a well celebrated wedding and now awaiting a child. 

Even though Nadia managed to turn off her phone after a conversation with her parents, it still didn't take away the humiliation that her ex-fiance went to mete out on her parents. 

Nadia knew Ammar didn't do anything without reason. He was strategic, never predictable, he did everything with precise knowledge, he knew her parents shopped for groceries together, choosing the best fruits, vegetables and home needs together. Lovingly. So he waited for them at the parking lot. 

The sound of her mother's voice trying to be strong broke her when she climbed into her bed and she howled into her fluffy pillow. She cried, for her mother who was taunted with Ammar's wife's pregnancy, and her father who was called the father of a barren woman. 

She cried mostly for herself, the stupid impressionable girl who let herself fall in love with a wicked narcissist. She cried for the days when he dangled affection in front of her like a piece of meat, and she a dog, she cried even more for the diagnosis that shaped her life. 

A few minutes later, her tears subsided into sobs and she exchanged her wet pillow for a dry one, exhaustion caught up to her and she promptly fell asleep.