The Year of You (on hold)

chapter 3

I don't sleep all night. when Nabeel gets out of the shower, I request from him one thing. "Pray with me."I whisper, and with no difficulty he turns me down, flips over and goes to sleep. I went to the bathroom, made wudu* and prayed tahajjud*. "Ya rabbi, ya Rahman, have mercy on me." I called out to my Lord, begging him for forgiveness and mercy and strength and patience. "What am i going to do?" I ask Him. I finish my dua and pick up a Quran, and read until Fajr*. When I hear the athan, I feel obliged to wake my husband up as well. so I walk over to his end of the bed and whisper, "Nabeel, Nabeel get up. It's time to pray fajr." "Go away" he mumbles, "I'm trying to sleep."

I'm then reminded of an ayah from the Quran, the 42nd surah Ash-Shurra verse 47.

"اسْتَجِيبُوا لِرَبِّكُم مِّن قَبْلِ أَن يَأْتِيَ يَوْمٌ لَّا مَرَدَّ لَهُ مِنَ اللَّهِ ۚ مَا لَكُم مِّن مَّلْجَإٍ يَوْمَئِذٍ وَمَا لَكُم مِّن نَّكِيرٍ"

"Respond to your Lord before a Day comes from Allah of which there is no repelling. No refuge will you have that day, nor for you will there be any denial." 42:47

I mutter this ayah under my breath, and make a silent dua that Allah guides him. I pray Fajr alone and do dhikr until the sunrises. at 5:30 am, Nabeel's alarm goes off and he wakes up immediately. i suppose he has to go to work. I get up from my prayer mat and watch him as he goes about the room getting ready. For the first time I notice what a disorganized man he is. I leave the room before he gets ready so that I can make him breakfast. I don't even know whether he likes coffee or chai so I make both, fry some eggs, toast some bread and pour a cup of juice. When he comes down, about 20 minutes later, dressed in a pale blue button down shirt and black dress pants, he sees the food on the table, and his eyes flicker in anger. "What is all this? Why did you make this?" he practically yells. "I- I- I'm sorry I didn't kn-" I stammer and he comes over to me and grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me. "Listen here, Muneerah, I thought I told you to stay out of my way. I don't need you to make me breakfast. Stay as far away from me as possible. You do your things and leave me to mine." His strong hands digging into my arms pain me, and as soon as he lets go I sink to my knees sobbing. He doesn't care. He leaves the kitchen in a storm of anger and I hear the faint slamming of the front door echoing through the halls of this huge, empty house. Then I hear his car engine revving and him driving off. Then I'm left in complete silence.

Nabeel is a CEO at an industrial company which produces engines for cars, motorcycles and mopeds. His company has recently started to export and import goods internationally, with places like Dubai and Tokyo being his top buyers. Though his family is already rich , he's a very successful business man, which explains the sleek black Hummer, matte black 2015 BMW i8, and the Benz in our garage. He could probably afford a lot more, but he probably thinks more rationally than most young successful people these days. Not to mention the huge house. It's like a castle. .

I clear away the table wondering whether Yunus knew Nabeel was like this. Thinking of Yunus made me think of my younger sister Safiyah and how much I miss her. After I clear away the table, I take the cup of chai I made for Nabeel and begin to drink it. Then I go up to our room and call my family.

"Asalamalikum Mama! how are you, how's Safiyah, how's Baba*, how's Yunus? I ask her.

"Walaikum asalam munni meri jaan, everyone's good Alhamdulilah*, we all miss you so much! How are you? How's Nabeel treating you?"

"He's very good to me mama," I lie. "He makes me feel so comfortable and welcomed here, I miss you guys too!" I don't want my mother to regret marrying me off to Nabeel so I decide to keep it from her what's really happening.

"well Alhamdulilah that's great! do you guys have anything planned for this weekend? How about you and Nabeel come over, we'll have dinner together."

My heart longs to say yes, "Mama Nabeel went to work right now, but I'll have to check with him before agreeing, I'll talk to him and let you know okay?"

"Okay ya habibti, here talk to Safiyah, she's been itching to talk to you ever since you left!'

"Asalamalikum Muneerah!"

"Walaikum asalam Safiyah! How are you? Do you miss me?"

"Yes of course I do, do you miss me?"

"Not too much." I joke and we both start to laugh.

"Well listen, I'm taking your room now and keeping my old one as a guest room for whenever someone comes over okay?"

"That's alright Safiyah. I've gotta go pray Dhur, i'll call you guys when Nabeel comes back from work okay? give Baba my salaam and tell him i miss him a lot. Masalama!"

I hang up before the tears come. I think about my conversation with my mom, and figure it would be better if I don't tell them. I don't want Nabeel's honor to be tarnished in her eyes. If she thinks good of him, I'll let her.

After praying dhur I proceed in emptying my suitcase. Instead of putting my clothes near Nabeel's, I put them in another closet since he wants me out of his way. I wrap it up around Asr time and after I finish praying I go into the kitchen and make butter chicken, praying that Nabeel eat some of this, at least. I know butter chicken is his favorite dish and whenever my mother used to make it he used to come over.

It's around Maghrib time when Nabeel gets home. I've already finished cooking and I also lit incense and bakhoor* around the whole house so it doesn't smell like food. I'm in the living room praying when he unlocks the door and comes in. His face almost drops when he sees me, but the first place he goes is the kitchen. When I finish my prayer I walk into the kitchen to find him rummaging through the cabinets.

"Asalamalaikum" I say.

"Walaikum asalaam," he replies "What did you make?"

"Butter chicken." I say and I smile to myself as I watch his face light up. "Freshen up, I'll set the table." and he leaves without another word.

When he comes back he's changed into relaxed clothing and I've already set the table. When he sits to eat, he asks whether I'll be eating as well.

"No, I'm not very hungry."

Then he tells me, "Get yourself a plate. Eat with me."

Astonished, I get myself a plate and sit down beside him. I serve him, then put some in my plate. Before trying it myself, I wait for his approval. "This is amazing." he says. Then I smile and have some myself. After we finish an awkward dinner, he gets up and puts his plate in the sink. "I'll get it, don't worry." I say but he doesn't listen and starts to help me clear away the table. Once the table is clear, I stand to wash the dishes and I feel a strong arm wrap tightly around my waist. I nearly drop the plate in my hand. Nabeel can feel the shock I'm feeling but he doesn't let go. His body is warm, and pressed against mine. Does he even remember this mornings events? He leans his chin on my shoulder. His mouth only inches away from my ear, and he whispers, "I'm sorry about this morning Muneerah. I didn't mean to get angry at you." I close my eyes and lean into him. He turns me around so that I'm facing him and looks me in the eyes. "Please, forgive me?" he asks. I nod my head, and he tightens his grip on my waist and my hitched breath stops. He puts his face in the crook of my neck and I feel the heat of his breath on my chilled skin, giving me goosebumps. I don't know what to do, and I try not to get lost in his scent.

Then something in him snaps and he pushes me out of his arms, looks at me like I'm full of venom, backs away and leaves the house.

dictionary:

wudu- ablution, a way to prepare for prayers

tahajjud - night prayers

fajr - dawn prayer

dhur - afternoon prayer

asr - evening prayers

maghrib - the prayer after sunset

baba - dad

alhamdulilah - thank Allah

bakhoor - a mixture of sandalwood and other fragrant things, must be burnt to smell nice