WrongSufferedAtHands

25.

Afiyah was silent the entire time they were driving back to their house; neither did she look at Bushra nor say a word. She didn't stop staring out the window, but Bushra noticed that she appeared to be shivering.

She also maintained silent as her friends left her house with concerns etched all over their faces rather than just saying, "Goodbye." The fact that she was growing closer to Hassan at the wrong moment irked Afiyah. She was married and a mother, that caused the guilt to swell in her throat and spread like an agony over her chest.

As she stood in the restroom, Afiyah inspected her reflection on the wall mirror. She glanced at the shadows under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. The anguish rose from her back to her abdomen once more, and she grasped the sink as she coughed yet again. The coughing this time was worse than the night before in the guest room.

Her throat ached from all the scratchy, dry coughs, so she forced out a stronger breath. She spat some liquid out of her mouth and leaned to the sink. She was braced to see her vomit in the sink, but what struck her eye caused her to break out in cold sweats.

Blood was evident in the scarlet stains that covered the white sink, just as it was on the napkin. She gasped as she vomited once more, this time with twice as much blood as before.

She chortled at her sight in the mirror and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. A resounding bang on the door startled her. She immediately managed to wipe her face and sprayed water on the blood before opening the door to see Zoya on it. She was sobbing, her cheeks were wet with tears, and her eyes were crimson.

"Little One, what's going on?" To stroke her face, she got down on one knee in front of her.

"You're never by my side. I don't like you mama, you don't eat with me, and you don't sleep with me." The child hiccupped while sobbing and frantically wiped her tears.

"That's not how it is." Afiyah tried to explain to her daughter. "Mama is busy and Zoya is a bold girl, she doesn't need mama to feed her, does she?"

"Yes, she does. I want to spend time with you, but you're always busy with your cars and never play or sit with me, mama."

"Mama will tuck you in bed tonight." Afiyah said, swallowing the thickness in her throat as she held Zoya in her arms. "Together, we'll go to bed."

"I want us three, not just us two. Where is Baba Jan?"

Afiyah paused for a moment, the ache in her abdominal seeking to make her queasy including the inquiry, "Baba Jan will be home soon."

She whispered lullabies to a recalcitrant and sobbing daughter as she lay next to Zoya, stroking her golden brown hair.

Afiyah remained up the entire night, her thoughts racing over Hassan, Affan, and what she witnessed in the bathroom. She was so perplexed that she couldn't even describe it as blood, and she was scared to learn more. She looked at Zoya as she slept, tears welling up in her eyes.

That day, Hassan wasn't there. He had taken time out of work due to a home emergency, according to the personnel she questioned. He didn't return her calls or texts, which baffled her and made her to a state of quite distressed.

As she approaches the lounge entrance, she comes to a halt when she notices Affan seated on the couch. His arms were sprawled out on the couch, one leg stacked over the other as he glared at her with great rage; the rage in his eyes was palpable.

"So you're back home." Not believing the agony and rage in his eyes, she questioned, her voice wavering as she remained rigidly rooted to the spot.

"Had to finish up a few things." He claimed while cracking his knuckles and the sound echoed throughout the walls, "What have you been up to behind my back?"