THE NARCISSIST'S WIFE

Chapter Sixteen: The Unspeakable

The following weeks followed the trend: late nights for Shareef and lonely nights for her. The farther the wings of the weeks flew, the larger her cravings. She craved to know more about the new man with whom she shared a roof and so much more.

The trend also changed a bit. He no longer came straight in when he returned. He now stayed back in his car to chat away.

With this new development, the curiosity to go through his phone rose at an alarming rate. She became like a child deprived of her favourite pastry after having tasted its sweetness.

Then her worry grew till it became overwhelming. She worried about his safety. There were killings and kidnappings in some areas within Abuja metropolis recently.

Sometimes, when she could no longer keep her anxieties in check, she would dare to call him. But whenever Zahra called, her calls were kept waiting.

One day, her call went through and she confided her fears to him. When he spoke, his voice emitted anger like a volcano ready to erupt. He warned her not to call him, that he was already home.

Indeed, he was.

"I acknowledge your complaint about my safety. I understand your concerns. That is why I came home early."

She was quiet for a while.

"But the neighbours will start to think..."

"What?!" He let out a shrill laughter. Who the heck cares about what neighbors think? Let me tell you something, Miss Innocent. Left to some of these neighbours, I should not enroll you in school at all."

Zahra wondered why this was always a subject of threat. It was 2007 for goodness sake and he had an agreement with her family to let her further her education. This was not even negotiable anymore.

"But still, I don't think it's right." she dared to say. "If you must make phone calls, why don't you come and make it in the house."

"Okay. I don't like where this is going. Don't dictate to me and don't try to teach me the difference between right and wrong because I know way better than you think you do."

But she wasn't okay with this anymore. She was treading on the very brink of sanity, and she wasn't sure she could hold it in anymore. For the moment, she tried hard, reigning a strong hold on her emotions, so that she didn't lose her temper.

Patience, Zahra. Patience... After all Innallaha ma'assabireen...

The next morning, something within her had had enough and she was going to do the unthinkable; after getting all set for school she decided to go through his phone.

She sat on the carpet close to his bed, picked up the phone and tried his password. Luckily, it was the same password; a more complicated spelling of her name.

Feeling nervous, she opened the phone and pushed it under his pillow to take a breath. Just as she picked up the phone she heard the shower stop and she quickly pushed it under the pillow again. Her hands were sweaty now. She rubbed them against her dress to get them dry, and then waited for a few minutes until she heard the shower rushing back again.

She slid her hands beneath the pillow with a bismillaah on her lips. She went to call logs, text messages and the gallery...

What she saw left her dumbfounded.

Nora, Linda, Naz, Hadiza, Randa and many unsaved numbers... She exited the call log and searched text messages:

The first was "Meet me at the hotel."
Then, "Have been waiting for you baby."
The last she checked was "I love, I miss, I'm proud of you."

She couldn't believe her eyes. She blew out hot air, her body quivering from an agonizing mixture trepidation and disbelief.

Then she exited the messages and went quickly to his images.

Instantly, she wished she hadn't. She regretted it. She wished she hadn't committed her eyes to such utter vulgar that haunted her long afterwards.

She quickly lost herself to the confinement of her pain. Time lost its value. Her blurred vision, though dazed to her surroundings, took in every scarring image before her. She needed this. She needed the pain. She needed the sharp wrenching thrust of the knife she could feel piercing the naked flesh of her heart.

She had no idea how long her husband stood by the bathroom door, watching her. She had no idea how long he savoured the pleasure of every twist of pain her expression gave away. All she saw was his relaxed figure clad in a lose towel, watching her with the intensity of a predator ready to pounce on his prey.

She was shaking visibly, partly from the realization of being caught in the act and partly from pure, naked, undiluted fury.

But her fury was mostly directed at herself for being such a weakling! She knew she would never confront him over all these because they were simply unspeakable, disgusting, unpardonable... And she knew that confronting him would neither bring forth goodness nor grant her the justice. The betrayal was too deep to ignore, yet too grave to discuss.

So, she did the only thing her feeble body could: she let the phone drop from her hand...

Sharif gave her a look of hurt before letting his gaze drop to the phone. She saw the redness and the disappointment. She saw the pain in his eyes.

But shouldn't she be the one hurting? She looked away from him, so distraught by her predicament to utter a word.

He came very close to her. She could see his feet. It was almost touching her knees.

She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for it. She waited for that slap that made her head vibrate long after he had stopped hitting it. She waited for the ringing in her ears like the ringing sound of the schoolbell that echoed long after the timekeeper had departed. She waited and waited, but the slap never came. When she opened her eyes, the phone was gone; it was in his hand.

As though from a distant world, she heard him call the security man to check the pipe - the water had stopped running. Afterwards, he dropped the phone where he had picked it and quietly went back into the bathroom.

His silence made her feel guilty and afraid...

Why was he acting out of character? It wasn't like him to let his "wrongdoer" off. It just didn't fit. Whether he was acting this way out of the feeling of guilt or bidding his time to think things through first, it was not good. No, this had to be a nightmare.

All of a sudden the world was too quiet for her and she feared what would follow this quietude.

Thank you as you vote and share! 💕💕💕