Irrevocably

27 | Dedicated & Selfless

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Anabia

I opened the front door and was surprised to see my twin brother standing there with Mariyam, our father's daughter from his secret marriage. "Assalam Alaikum." 

"Walaikum Assalam." They both replied.

Mariyam was staring at the ground, her head and the lower half of her face covered by a dupatta.

I glanced at Saim, waiting for an explanation, but I stepped aside to let them in. "How are you, Mariyam?" Our mother hadn't raised us to forget blood ties. 

She nodded, but she didn't say anything. Again I glanced at Saim, who shrugged.

I led them into the formal living room, and gestured for them to sit down. Mariyam was glancing around, almost in wonder. She glanced at the Ayat-ul-Kursi hanging on the wall directly opposite the door, at the neat and immaculate room, the matching sofa sets and the glass coffee table. 

"You have a beautiful home, Appi. Ma Sha Allah." She whispered, her gaze returning to me.

Appi? "Thank you." I paused. "How's Fiza?"

Fiza was her younger sister. 

She sighed, shaking her head. "I haven't heard from her in a while."

"And how's your mother?" I asked, carefully.

"My mother was admitted, under court order, into a rehabilitation centre." She stated simply, without further elaborating.

"Basically, Mariyam is hesitating to say this, but she has no place to go." Saim explained. "She has become homeless since they were unable to pay the rent of their place..." He cleared his throat.

I hugged myself as I sat on an armchair. I had no idea what to say to that. I wanted to have a big heart and offer her a place to stay here, but how could I? I hardly knew Mariyam, or about her life. Blood or not, it wasn't a sensible idea to just invite her into my home! "I'm very sorry to hear that." I was not the emotional and naïve Anabia from decades ago. I had to think of my family, my home first. I didn't trust Mariyam. I couldn't just invite her to live here, amongst my loving family. 

"I am divorced because my husband found another woman." Her voice broke as she spoke. "I suppose it's true that the parents' deeds can come back to haunt the children. But unfortunately, both culprits are not around to witness the torture I am living. I have a baby boy, with no place to go." Tears filled her eyes.

I inhaled long and deep before standing up. "Excuse me. I'll go make some tea." 

"Appi, I don't want any tea. And I understand your hesitation is helping me." Mariyam stood up as well. She was in her late thirties, pushing forty, and there was no denying that she was pretty. 

But there was also no denying the history that we all shared. I still couldn't forget how the sisters barely acknowledged me and Saim, even though we shared a father. "Do you?" I asked. "If you did, you wouldn't be here right now." I looked at Saim, silently questioning him why he brought her here.

"I met her at Papa's grave. She was crying and asking me to help her." He explained. "I just brought her here so we can talk. You are under no obligation to help her, Anabia, and neither am I. I offered my help and support when Papa...passed away, but they basically rejected me. I don't think there's much else we can do now."

"I just need a few days, maybe a couple of weeks." Mariyam whispered. "As soon as I get a job..."

"We can help you with the rent, but that's the most I can offer." I had to keep my family safe. She was basically a stranger and I couldn't let a stranger in my home, no matter what. Saim and I were raised mainly by Mama, but she had been raised by Zohaib Waleed, the very man who had leaked his own daughter's pregnancy scans to the media! I couldn't trust his upbringing at all; and nor of the woman who had become part of the adultery that had destroyed Mama's marriage. If Papa was the main culprit, Sharmeen was no innocent either.