Dear Laura 2

Chapter 21

I got discharged from the hospital a week later. But I stayed at my place until there were no injuries showing anymore. Once I looked healthy, I purchased a ticket to go home. That was a month after I got discharged. I thought that during that month, he would come back to apologise and try to get me back, but he did not. A part of me was hoping he would.

The first place I went to was Malik's. I was hoping I could find Beth and just vent and prepare myself before going home.

I found Beth and her kids were not there.

"Hey." I greet once she opened the door.

"Hi Mia. What are you doing here?" She said with animosity.

"You are not happy to see me? I expected a different response. A more positive one." I furrow my eyebrows.

"I don't know. Would you be happy to see your sister-in-law, who has been gone since Christmas, has not been answering calls since her birthday which was like two and a half months ago, missed her brother's funeral, does not call or text and--"

"Did you just say missed my brother's funeral?" I was alarmed. What was she talking about?

"Yes!" She sighed in defeat. "We got into a car accident six weeks ago and Malik did not make it. I'm left to deal with these kids, and I just miss my best friend and I am barely surviving without him and I--." She broke into a cry, and I hugged her so that she could cry onto my shoulder. I also cried. I could not believe that on top of what I was dealing with, I had to lose my brother too. I apologised to Beth for missing the funeral and explained that I lost my phone, and nothing was backed up. She finally let me in.

"You are so lucky that you are not showing. By my third month, my stomach was huge." She said and I felt a sharp pain course through me.

"We need to talk." I gave her a tight-lipped smile.

After consoling each other about Malik and me countlessly apologising for abandoning them, I told her what happened back in South Africa. I told her everything, from the engagements, the abuse, Hope, and losing the baby. I was so ashamed, but I knew she would not judge me.

Beth was blunt, she analysed everything and cleared it for me. She told me that Abdul bought me a car as a tactic to isolate me from my friend. I'd spend less time with Emma if I had my own car. That the gift was a form of manipulation and did not come from a good heart. She told me that he bought me that apartment in Cape Town to do the same after the car did not work. She said that she suspects he bumped my phone into the ocean on purpose, with the same evil intention in mind. He wanted to control me; in the end, he was the one I owed my life to because he bought me a car, a place and got me a job. He could control me if he owned me the way he did. And without any friends or family, I would not tell anyone when he hit me. It all made sense.

There was nothing he did for me out of the goodness of his heart. He just wanted someone to control. Thats why he lied to Hope to get me kicked out of the house. He gaslit and manipulated me on the regular, he degraded me and called me names. He just had little respect for me, if any at all.

"The hurtful part is that I know that I am going to continue loving him. I am going to love him no matter what happens. I know this because I have tried stopping and I just could not. I can't stop loving him even after the mistreatment, the hurt, the pain, the abuse, the lies and the cheating. It did not matter what he did, I just knew that I loved him, and I wanted to be with him. I don't know why I did not figure that he would never love me the way I loved him or want me the way I wanted him. I think I was just the convenient option for him." She enveloped my hand in hers to comfort me.

"You poor thing. I am so sorry you went through all that and now you have to deal with losing your brother. At least you still own the properties." Guilt flooded my body as I thought about how I was not there for her and the family after Malik's passing. I still could not believe that Malik passed.

"I guess."

"Why didn't you leave sweetie?" I chuckled.

"He wasn't all bad you know. And I loved him. I liked it when he held my hand then rubbed it with his large thumb. It got me all warm inside and gave me butterflies. I liked it when he did the same to my cheek, and my shoulders and my thighs, but not in a sexual way. I liked it when he would yell 'stop' when I was about to open the door for myself. I liked that he never, under no circumstances let me walk behind him. I liked how he understood the sidewalk rule. I liked how he cooked for me. I liked how he knew me and things I loved. I loved the surprise trips and the thoughtful gifts.

"I loved how he bit his lip when he glared at me for more than five seconds. I loved how he never spoke with food in his mouth. I loved how he never let me pay for dates. I loved how he kissed my forehead before bed. I loved how he sounded when he said the word beautiful, it sort of rolled off his tongue." My cheeks started to hurt from the blushing.

I loved everything about that man, and I will never understand why it took me so long to admit how toxic our relationship was. I was glad I could finally see it for what it was.  Because not only did I love Abdul, but I also hated him.

I hated how he grabbed my neck or arm whenever he was upset with me. I hated how he looked at me whenever I was talking to any male. He looked at me like I repulsed him. I hated how his jealousy would express itself in forms of manipulation, abuse or criticism. I hated how he slut-shamed me. I hated how rude he was whenever he was having a bad day. I hated how I developed fear for him, which later turned into resentment of some sort. The same resentment that I felt when I pierced his chest with that knife. The same resentment I felt when I watched him almost bleed to death.

I hated how he told me I'm broken. I hated how small he made me feel. I hated when he crushed my self-esteem and built it up only when it best suited him. I hated him so much.

I had tears to last me a lifetime. I broke down again. I even cried again later before bed. Even the next morning. I felt empty. I did not feel like myself. I felt like my life was over. I had to mourn my child and brother at the same time. The pain was unbearable.

I was also mourning Abdul. He was as good as dead to me.