THE NARCISSIST'S WIFE

Chapter Fifteen: In the Depth of the Night

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The trip was soon over and they had to return. She wished it could last forever, but every good thing has an end, so did the trip. They returned back to all that she had left behind in denial and fear, all her worries. She was back to all her pain.

It was a Saturday night. She settled comfortably in bed and picked up his phone out of habit. It wasn't the first time she would go through his phone. It was something he had never complained about. Going through his phone was, to her, like drinking water: she didn't have to think about it.

But things were fast changing and even though she was unwilling to embrace the changes, unwilling to acknowledge the extent of the changes, Sharif was not one to let her live in illusions; he made sure she was in full awareness.

"Please, drop it," he said sternly from the bathroom door.

"What?" Zahra asked, unconsciously raising her head to look at him.

"I said drop it," he gritted, walking into the room and dropping his towel on the bed. Noticing the confused look on her face, he pointed to his phone – which she was still holding.

"Ohh..." was all she muttered.

But why?

"You should stop going through my phone. I don't really fancy it. You have yours, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered meekly.

He walked over and withdrew his phone. When their hands touched, the coldness that emanated from his skin was a perfect reflection of the coldness in his eyes.

"I hope you heard my pleas?" he asked. "I don't plead for many things."

She smiled forcefully.

At that instant, his phone began to ring. He looked at the screen, then back at her, sizing her up. He smiled, the type of pleasurable smile one displayed when they saw a call they had been waiting for. Surprisingly, he didn't pick it.
Zahra felt torn. She felt as though a million needles were prickling the very naked flesh of her heart.

"We can no longer go on our outing tomorrow because I have some urgent business to attend to, but..." He paused to assess her "we will probably make it out next week, Insha Allah."

He was putting on his wrist watch now, making her wonder why he was dressing up at such late hour. On an ordinary day, she would be dressing him up, but not today. He didn't ask. Even if he did, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Alright, Insha Allah," She said with a wane smile. She felt emotionally drained.

He made to leave the room but paused. He probably read her unasked question from her body language.

"I need to see a friend urgently. Naz is here to pick me up, I am not going with my car."

This didn't surprise her at all. She was getting used to things like this and was even beginning to expect it, even though it didn't lessen the pain each time it happened. Besides, his actions revealed a sense of urgency that spoke volume of his prior knowledge of the meeting.

A little later, Naz was at their gate, honking. This was definitely calculated and planned, nothing impromptu at all.

But why so late? With whom was he meeting?

"But... It's 10 pm already," she started tentatively.

"So?" he snapped, pursing his lower lip. "Spit it out! Say what's on your mind!" By now he was biting his lower lip, a sign that he was losing his patience.

"It's just... nothing." She could feel her pulse quickening.

"You mean to say that I can't leave my own house whenever I want to? I can't accept nothing for an answer, Zahra. You started this, so you MUST say it out." He went back into the room and stood in front of the dressing mirror.

"I'm waiting."

"I feel... you are changing..." She swallowed hard.

"Pardon?" he said smirking and raising his brows.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

He shook his head vigorously and continued biting his lower lip.

"You have just been a university student for a few weeks and you have developed this amount of guts. Amazing! I wonder what you will be capable of doing when you become a graduate. I doubt if I can control you as a husband. I'm beginning to have serious doubt about your studentship in my house."

She was counting the number of cube-shaped decorations on the rug. She broke into cold sweat, unable to look up at him.

"Or you think that I haven't noticed how you frown, the way you walk and talk these days? I don't know the kind of company you keep at school but you should remember my instruction: you are NOT allowed to talk to anybody!"

She opened her mouth to speak but he raised his hand to his lips to shush her. "Nobody interrupts me when I'm talking," he had once told her. How could she forget?

"You know the problem with women? When you play and smile with them, they take you for granted. This is exactly what is happening here. I want to make this unequivocally clear to you: I married you to stay in the house and you didn't marry me to stay in the house with you. Is that understood?"

"I'm sorry," she choked in a voice devoid of courage.

"I didn't ask for an apology!"

"I understand," she corrected herself and he shrugged.

Naz called to him again, asking if it was the Madam that was making him take long to come down.

You have no idea, Zahra thought, as her gaze unconsciously went to the hanging wall clock. It was almost 10:30 pm and, for the first time, Zahra was grateful that Naz was there to rescue the situation. She needed her husband to leave. She needed to be alone. She needed the sanctity of a toxic free breathing space.

But Sharif simply pocketed his phone and continued talking.

"Put this at the back of your mind, Zahra. Write it down somewhere if you have to: You don't dictate the rules to me. You are not ripe enough to play games with me. Stick to your role and abide by the rules – my rules. That is the only way living here will not be unbearable for both of us."

"Yes," she stated again.

"You are a student. I don't want to meet you up. You need to develop the habit of going to bed early. If I recall correctly I had stated this in this house."

She could only nod – an act that was an offence in his house, but which she couldn't help but commit at that moment for fear that if she attempted to talk, she would open the floodgate of her tears.

Afterwards, she accompanied him to the door as he instructed. She closed the door as he walked away and rushed to the balcony to watch them leave. It didn't take long before Naz zoomed off with her husband by his side.

She stood there for hours, disobeying the order to sleep. Since she was meant to be sleeping, she couldn't possibly call him. She hid her phone from sight and avoided looking at the wall clock, to fight the temptation to call him. She stood frozen by the window until when all the cars passing through their street stopped... Until the night was dark and turned silent... Until there was no noise left save the barking of dogs from a far distance once in a while... Until finally, she saw Naz's car driving up the street and Sharif came out of it. What time was it? She couldn't tell. One couldn't tell the time when they weren't looking at it.

As his footsteps echoed in the dark night, she rushed to bed and pretended to be fast asleep, the beginning of many nights like it.

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