UNENDING

3- Blue

-ASIYA-

I giggled as Ikram and BJ told me a story about a homeless man chasing them on their way home from the store. They were Al-Qasim's cousins and some of the few people who were genuinely nice to me, alongside their older sister, Hannah. They schooled abroad and were away most of the year, so I didn't get to see them often.

On the other hand, Hannah was married with a kid, so she came around whenever possible. "I told you guys to stop going out so late at night. England is a scary country."

"Nana, we ran out of water. The Morrisons next to our building was closed, so we had to go to the convenience store," BJ explains.

"I have trauma from Morrisons, so even if it were open, I would have gone to a Tesco or Sainsbury's," Ikram adds.

Hannah shakes her head. "Trauma? You're not serious."

"Wallahi. I once bought chocolate milk from there, and I had diarrhoea for a week," Ikram replies.

We all burst out laughing at the revelation. "Tesco is the standard," Hannah says.

"Nope. Waitrose is my fave," BJ says. "They have the best quality stuff."

"I'm definitely a Tesco girlie. They have the best doughnuts," Ikram chimes.

Hannah stares at them in shock. "You have favourite supermarkets? You're not normal people."

"Don't you? What about you, Asi? Waitrose or Tesco?" Ikram asks.

I bite the inner corner of my cheek. "I don't know those stores," I admit.

BJ smacks Ikram on the head. "I'm sorry, Asi. She's an idiot."

"No, it's fine. I've never been to England," I reply.

I've never really been anywhere. My parents couldn't afford trips abroad, and when Al-Qasim and I got married, I was still in school and preferred using my breaks to study rather than travel or relax. He had invited me to come along on a few business trips, which I declined.

"I'm telling Yaya to take you immediately when he gets home," Hannah says.

I shake my head. "That's not necessary. I'm sure he's too busy to travel," I say.

"Then come with us when we're going back. You can spend a week or so then return. It'll be fun," BJ suggests.

"I'll speak to your brother about it," I lie.

We continued talking and telling stories until Al-Qasim returned. He exchanged pleasantries with his cousins before heading upstairs. After Isha'a, the girls headed home, and I went up to the room.

Al-Qasim and I shared a room. It was one of the things he wouldn't budge on once we got married. We did everything a married couple did. I cooked for him every day without fail unless I was sick or too tired, cleaned his room, slept on the same bed, and let him touch me as he pleased. The only thing absent was love.

I knew he cared for me not because he had feelings towards me but because it was his responsibility. He carried out his duties as a husband without fail. He made sure I had money, the pantry was never out of food and water, I had people helping me around the house, and drivers that would take me anywhere I pleased.

I lived comfortably because of him and paid him back the only way I knew how by being obedient to a fault. That was how I survived living with my parents. I acknowledged my lower status, kept my head down, and did as I was told.

When I entered the room, he was seated on the couch with his laptop in his lap. "Are the girls gone?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply.