With Love

Chapter 6: hesitant futures

They walked in silence mostly, except the one time he pointed out how hot it was for England weather, and then when Israh apologised for accidentally bumping into him. She just could not walk in a straight line for the life of her.

His car was parked near the train station which was packed. There were so many people out and about, moving in all directions, chatting, laughing, some even shouting for no reason. Israh hated coming to this part of the city, or any crowded part in fact. She felt like she never could quite fit in.

Once they were sat in the car, as comfortable as they could get in this weird situation, Asad turned to the back seats and retrieved a plastic bag. He got out a box from it, a mithai one from the looks of it, and opened the lid. He held it out to her. "My colleague got promoted so he brought this for all of us. You want some?"

Israh was about to refuse but then she realised how hungry she was by the tightness in her tummy, and she begrudgingly got a gulab jamun. She wasn't a fan of barfi or rasgullas so this would have to do. He smiled when she didn't refuse and Israh saw it again, the charm and warmth that had impressed her parents so easily. It was his soft-spoken tone, and his easy smiles and his bright eyes, she thought, that made one want to trust him at once.

Otherwise, her doubtful parents, wary from so many failures and disappointments in their lives, would never have been so happy about such a rishta.

He put the box back and started the car. Her heart was still beating away wildly, in fearful anticipation. She didn't know what to expect. If not to ask her to refuse this alliance, then what did he want to say so urgently to her?

When she looked at him, awaiting, she could see he was nervous too. He was avoiding her gaze. His smile was tremulous, and he was stiffer than he'd been before. She wanted to urge him, to just get it out once and for all, to save her from further anticipation, but she stopped herself. Israh knew how anxious she herself was, and people rushing her was never a good thing to happen.

They'd just gotten out of the city centre when he finally spoke.

"This is going to sound awful, and...I'm pretty sure that no girl, or any person for that matter would be okay with it...but it's better for you to know this before things go too far."

"Hmm." Israh's instinctive reaction was to brace herself for the worst, but she managed to maintain a composed demeanour, closing her hands into tight fists and looking firmly ahead.

"There was...there was someone in my life until very recently."

And there it was. The truth that Israh begged Allah to never put in her face. Because she thought...she thought she could learn to love him. She'd never loved anyone romantically, but he had a certain charm, and he was kind to her parents, so she thought, fine, I can do this, despite every cell in her body screaming out of fear that things could turn ugly any time.

There was an ache there, right in the middle of her chest, between her ribs, slowly simmering since the beginning of time; an ache borne out of every time she imagined a good life, a beautiful dream that maybe, someday, could become reality. It never did. That was the achy part.

It used to just be a dull throb under her flesh, and then he said this. He couldn't love her because he loved someone else. The ache caught ablaze inside her. She was never enough was she? There was always someone better.

It doesn't matter.

It's fine.

It's fine.

"I'm sorry. This doesn't mean...I-"

"So, you do want me to say no."

He glanced at her, something desperate flickering like a flame there. "No. That's not...I understand if you refuse of course." Then he sighed and she tried her hardest to hold back from snapping at him. 

How could he? How dare he come to her, say something so audacious and then act all nice about it like it didn't just destroy the remaining ounce of self-esteem she had. 

"I guess, I just wanted to say that if this...does go ahead...if we marry...I promise that I will be good to you. I'll fulfil all my responsibilities and-"

"Will you ever love me?"

There was a pause. He stopped at a red light and turned his face to her. She breathed in and out deeply, keeping her gaze on the front. His gaze was on her. She could feel it burning her skin. She wanted to get out of here, to just leave and never see him again.

"I think I can..."

"You think?" She turned to him too, bitter. The gulab jamun she'd eaten earlier now made her nauseous.

"Israh. I'm not someone who dwells on the past too long. Whatever happened before...of course it's left an impact on me, but it won't stop me from living my life. I can say this to you with the utmost conviction that I can love you...that I will."

The gentle ambiance of outside, of the park nearby, of the children laughing in the school they were so close to, of the world in general felt distant in that moment. Inconsequential amidst this moment, this sheer turmoil.

And Israh clung to the littlest things, the bus tickets from a good day out, the wrapper of that toffee Tamanna had given her once, a rose she'd seen fall on the floor, an Autumn umber leaf, a birthday card, a crumpled paper with written conversations from a class ages ago...she clung to this now. This. Him. His eyes. His determined eyes, hazel, shimmering, like a sunset. 

Who was this man in front of her? She'd remember him forever and she'd never even held a conversation with him before today. Who was he and what was this weird emotion lingering between them?

Then a horn sounded from behind them, and the eye contact was broken, and he was back to his stiff self, pressing on the accelerator.

She wanted to trust him, but she thought about a moment in the future when she'd be his wife and they'd be happy, until that day she found a picture of this faceless girl he'd loved before, somewhere hidden behind all his clothes, or in an old wallet that he never threw away. She thought of the possibility of finding that and confronting him and his guilty gaze as he told Israh he never did move on from that girl, that Israh was a flickering flame and the other girl had been fireworks.

What would happen then? What would she do then? It'd be too late to leave and even more unbearable to stay.

She asked him to drop her off a street earlier than hers. He parked the car, and she hesitated before opening the door. She wanted to say something to him. She felt like she was supposed to say something, but nothing landed on her tongue. She struggled with his unwavering patience and her own inability to speak, before giving up and walking out of the car. She never turned back to see if he was still there, whether he'd lingered or not.

She stopped only in front of her door, and only when she heard the loud voices inside did she managed to let a few tears escape her. She knew there were far worse fates in the world. There was much more suffering elsewhere, but she couldn't help but think that hers was unbearable. Was she to spend the rest of her life in this mist of frustration and guilt?

Israh sat down on the steps and leaned her head against the wall beside the door, waiting for the chaos inside to end. She patted herself on the back for making sure Asad didn't come anywhere near her house today, because if he'd heard all this commotion, she was sure he'd run the opposite way. Then, there would be no need for anymore discussion or consideration about new relationships.

But then again, that could be a good thing too.

A rough wind rushed past as the door opened behind her. She flinched and turned back to find her brother, his eyes bloodshot as he slammed the door shut. He glanced at her but didn't speak, didn't ask her when she'd gotten here or how she was. Maybe he knew. He already knew. That was why he merely brushed a hand over her head and walked away.