Twice Shy

19 TWICE SHY

My family arrived not long after. The tension between us had not dimmed, however much my parents would like to pretend oblivious to the air surrounding us. My father acted strange today, he'd keep his hand on top of my head unusually longer, then he'd release a deep sigh every now and then. My mother watched me with pitiful eyes, which I wish carried more sympathy when there is a "tsk," between her teeth when she measures me with her eyes.

We'd come for dinner outside. Ilyaz was meant to join us too, but he's been held up by work. He's supposed to pick up our Walima invitations on the way. I've tried asking Alyana regarding what was going on, and she'd asked me if I was happy. Taken aback, I was cut off before I had the opportunity to process an answer.

"Humein lagta hain tumhe ye dekhlena na chahiye," My father said, sliding a file across the table. I looked at the file, confused. My father continued.

"We're aware there was a decree of discontentment when you and Ilyaz had got married. To some extent, it was our fault. Your brother's candidacy was crucial then, and Ali's corporate investing campaign finance on his behalf was the well, the final blow on the nail to secure his position. We'd assumed you would be okay with the situation given Ilyaz was of your own choice. You were already aware we didn't plan on you studying your Masters abroad by yourself, and Ilyaz already lived in England; more reason that made seem this marriage was befitting. But in the end of the day, I admit none of this was fair towards you,"

My throat dries up. I take a sip of the glass of water as Abbu finishes. I want to tell him how much his decision affected me. It wasn't only about my feelings, his actions were a strike to my integrity and self esteem. Only I knew how long I've had to hold my tongue and struggled to hold my chin high in front of my husband's family. Similarly only I had felt when my marriage crumbled in silence because of the swell of inferiority complex which curled and crested inside me, eating away my relationships.

"What are you saying then?"

My father purses his lips, placing the file in my hand and answering, "Open it,"

Dissolution Judicial Separation Petition

I don't realize when the glass slips from my hand and spills everywhere. My father continues talking, but the words are deafened out. A waiter comes by our side, confused. I can only stare at the words before me in utter shock.

"We thought it's better we proceed before the Walima,"

"Ilyaz," My voice is a quivering breath, "Did he know about this?"

My parents look at me with confused eyes, blissfully unaware of my state.

"Why, yes. Of course, beta,"

It's the divorce papers looking right back at me. He's thrown it at my face, just how I'd wished not so long before.

Across the battlefield, Ilyaz saunters gracefully forth, head held high. There is only an inch of space to close between us, instead he twirls his sword behind him, swinging forward. Contemplates. Then he spears me straight through the heart.

"Checkmate."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Instead of driving towards our house, I hurry out of town.  The only thing that matters is that no one finds me. I can't let anyone see me like this. An hour passes before I find somewhere to park—a rest area closed by a crop of trees, the view through my windshield sloping down to a frozen lake. I press my forehead to the cool steering wheel and inhale deeply, releasing staggered breaths. It hurts. I'm hurting so bad, and I wish I could return to the Ilyana Ali who wanted Ilyaz to call off the reception. She would have been celebrating this. The lake and trees swim. It's a misty, gloomy day, and I wouldn't be surprised if I keep on driving and driving, never to come back again. I'll leave this town and Ilyaz in my rearview mirror, bringing a long-standing fantasy to life.