WrongSufferedAtHands

19.

She was being stirred, and the truth that was once more thrust upon her was like being struck in the head with a mallet. She was previously taught the truth by Sameer, but now she was being driven farther into the phase of remorse.

She should have declined, she reasoned.

To escape the load that had been pressing against her chest, she allowed herself to cry in the shadows of the evening while she was alone in the yard outdoors with Zoya in the cradle.

Her fate will never achieve better; she was forlorn once more. Her cruel fortune prohibited her from holding out hope for a better tomorrow because her current had already wrecked her.

As soon as she heard the lounge door open, she wiped her tear-stained face with her shawl. To her ears, the sound of slippers stomping on the sparse grass was reverberating.

"I'm sorry." With a good distance between them, Affan sat next to her.

"How come you're sorry? I should have known earlier, thus I'm at fault." Her throat was clenched as she snorted. She was nonetheless in the state of crying which made her voice thicker and hoarse.

"She didn't mean to say that, but-"

"To say what, exactly? It's enough the way she just crammed the fact into my head. I'm losing my ability to tolerate situations, and one day I could burst." She murmured while her voice cracked due to the sobbing and when Zoya began to cry, she gave the cradle a gentle shove with her foot.

"She's a sick woman, don't pay heed to her. She already thinks you aren't suitable for me, so we can't convince her. Be at peace and let it go." Affan explained as he bent down to take up the wailing baby.

He made an effort to hold her in his arms while rocking her back and forth.

"And how did she discover that I gave Zoya her name? You promised to tell her that you chose the name, didn't you"? She questioned, her neck moving in time with Affan's pacing back and forth.

"What could I possibly do? She insisted on a name change, and if I had complied, you would have been the one upset with me. I was under pressure." The more Zoya cried, the more annoyed he sounded.

"Allow me to carry her." From him, she grabbed Zoya and placed her in her lap.

"I'm caught between the two of you. I'm not sure who I should pay attention to more: her or you? I'm not sure who deserves my consideration." His eyes growing crimson, and he nearly yelled at her.

"I'm your wife and she's your mother, we both have our positions in your life." Afiyah explained as she fed Zoya from her breast. "When she deserves it, pay attention to her; don't worry about me. I'm not the one who brought you up, you were carried by her, and now that I'm a mother too, I understand how difficult it is to bear a child on one's own." She refused to look at him.

She was baffled by Affan's unexpectedly quiet demeanor. When she gazed at him in the eyes, she saw sympathy in those eyes; he seemed concerned.

"You truly are different." He strolled back inside the lounge, leaving Afiyah wondering on the bench with her daughter.

The frigid waves that dashed against her feet felt like thorns searing her skin. The rush of incredibly chilly breeze ruffled her hair as her feet were submerged in the damp sand. She remained rigidly positioned as she gazed out into the depth of the ocean, with the moon and constellations reflecting upon it. She was overcome by the view, which resembled her current state of mind, as the lightning struck the gloomy sky from amid the black clouds.

She sensed a firm chest press against her back, and before she recognized anything, arms were draped over her waist. She felt a chin brush against her shoulder, and the aroma was shoved into her senses.