Too Little, Too Late

30

September, 2021

The night lamp cast a soft glow on one side of the room and Ibrahim lay on his back, staring at the ceiling above him but barely seeing it. Physically, he was there. Mentally, though, he was far, far away; thinking about his wife the same way he'd been doing in the three weeks he'd been back.

Like every other day, Ibrahim didn't think he'd ever been this confused and disturbed. Like always, he didn't know where to start unravelling everything from and it bothered him more than he ever expected which was a problem in itself.

Ayra was a near different woman and he now had a mental list to prove it. In the first week, he convinced himself that it was all in his head. By the second week, he had to face the reality that his wife wasn't the same woman he'd left behind. While he should have been happy that she was now the woman he'd always wanted her to be with bits and pieces of the woman she'd always been, he was honestly disturbed and he found himself longing for them to fall back to what had been their patterns time and time again.

He wasn't ready to admit it to anyone – including himself – that the reason he'd barely wanted to leave the house in the three weeks since his return was because of Ayra; because he was trying to understand where the changes were coming from and because he was – shockingly – finding himself searching for the little moments she already created with him and the little things she did. Moments she no longer created and things she no longer did.

She no longer woke him up for prayers with little kisses and giggles. Sure, she still smiled adorably but her eyes...He'd come to note the slight coldness they now had and he disliked it so much. After Fajr, she no longer sat with him in the family lounge to talk about something random or ask if he was going to work that day. She now simply folded her prayer mat and left him there, heading to her room to soak in the bathtub and watch the sunrise; something she said she'd added to her routine when he was away.

Throughout the day, she'd do one thing or the other; staying away from him rather than being clingy the way she usually was when he stayed home. She was now part of the sister community of the masjid he'd never step foot into and if she wasn't out for one drive or the other, she was locked in the room he'd given her as her little haven, reading or typing away on her laptop. During meals, she didn't speak as much as she used to and more than once, he'd have to keep the conversation going; a new thing for him.

Then there was the physical aspect. Her hugs weren't long anymore and her kisses were now chaste and brief. Nothing more, nothing less. They'd only slept on the same bed thrice since he'd returned and she'd fallen asleep halfway into their pillow talks; talks she usually forced herself to stay awake for because of how much she loved them, especially when he'd been away on a trip.

Ibtihaj had been quiet too which was a new thing for him as he and the others had been expecting her to call them out for travelling to Costa Casa after saying they – the squad – were going to be in town. It was radio silence on her end and Ayra didn't say much about her anymore; just that she – Ibtihaj – was in the UK for a personal trip after the work she'd gone there for finished. Ayra never mentioned more.

Sighing, Ibrahim rolled over to his side and stared at the crack of the curtains that enabled him see the clearing grey skies through the full length window. His thought path then moved to how Ayra still seemed unsatisfied with the house's interior. He still wasn't used to having so much of Bella taken away and just when he'd try to get used to one thing, Ayra was replacing it with something else. At the time the first interior had been completed, they'd been so sure Ayra loved it because although it'd been all Bella, they had put it in the back of their minds to do something Ayra wouldn't dare dream of changing. Now though, Ibrahim wasn't sure he even knew what Ayra's dream home was because the changes she was making were not it at all.