Eternity

Chapter 18

As-salamu alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuhu

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The next morning, Ayzal woke up early. She moved through her morning routine mechanically, her mind preoccupied with the dinner invitation and how to navigate the inevitable conversation with her mother.

Zayan, as usual, left for work without a word. Ayzal watched him leave, a sense of resignation settling over her. She knew she couldn’t force him to change, but she hoped that in time, he would.

Ayzal focused mainly on her chores, the rhythmic tasks providing a small measure of comfort. She busied herself in the kitchen, preparing a hearty breakfast for her family.

When her mother-in-law joined her, she noticed the strain in Ayzal’s eyes, “You look tired, Ayzal. Didn’t you sleep well?”

Ayzal managed a small smile. “I am fine, Mother. Just a bit restless, that’s all.”

As the day wore on, Ayzal found herself dreading the dinner at her father's place. She knew the disappointment that awaited her, the subtle hurt in her mother’s voice when she would inevitably explain that Zayan wouldn’t be joining them for dinner.

Hours slipped by unnoticed, and as evening approached, Ayzal reluctantly began to prepare. With a heavy heart, she descended the stairs to join her family for the dinner outing.

Arriving at her father's house, they were greeted warmly by her parents and brother. Ayzal embraced her mother tightly, followed by her father and brother, feeling the familiar warmth and love of her childhood home envelop her once again.

"Ayzal, my child, how are you?" her father asked warmly as she released from their embrace.

"I am good, Papa. What about you?" Ayzal replied, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"I am good now that you are here," her father said, reaching out to gently caress her hair, his affectionate touch- a silent reassurance of his love.

"We were all looking forward to tonight’s dinner,” her mother said with genuine cheerfulness, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"So were we," Ayzal's mother-in-law politely interjected, offering a smile.

Everyone settled onto the comfortable couches in the living room. Ayzal's father, ever observant, soon noticed Zayan's absence. "Where is Zayan?"

Ayzal hesitated, the weight of her words settling heavily on her shoulders. “I am sorry. He had a busy day with meetings. He wanted to join us, but he won’t be able to make it,” she explained quietly, her voice tinged with regret.

There was a brief pause, the air thick with unspoken disappointment. Ayzal's mother broke the silence, her tone soft and understanding. “I see. We miss him, but work is important too. I am just glad you all could make it.”

"You invited us, of course, we had to come," her mother-in-law replied graciously, masking any hint of embarrassment she felt because of her son.

Ayzal felt a wave of relief mingled with guilt washing over her. She appreciated her family's understanding, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was letting them down somehow, unable to bridge the gap between her two worlds—her family and her marriage.

Late till dinner, conversations flowed around her, punctuated by laughter and shared memories. Ayzal found herself lost in bittersweet nostalgia. She listened attentively to stories of old, laughter echoing through the familiar rooms, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to forget the complexities of her current reality.

As the time for dinner came, everyone started gathering in the dining area when the doorbell rang unexpectedly.

"I will check," Hiyam, Ayzal's younger brother, volunteered, rushing to open the door.

Moments later, he returned with Zayan beside him. Ayzal, absorbed in preparing the last touches in the kitchen, was taken aback to see Zayan sitting at the dining table when she brought out the dishes.

"I thought you were busy with work, Zayan. How did you manage to join us?" Zayan's mother inquired with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"I finished my meetings earlier than expected. Thought I would surprise everyone," Zayan replied, his tone neutral as he glanced around the table.

"I am glad you could make it, my child," Ayzal's father exclaimed warmly, patting Zayan's back lovingly. "Ayzal, why don't you serve him first? He must be hungry."

Ayzal hesitated briefly, well aware of Zayan's preference for independence. With hesitant steps, she approached her husband and served him, trying to gauge his reaction. As she placed the food before him, she couldn't help but steal glances, attempting to decipher his thoughts.

Zayan picked up a morsel, brought it to his mouth, and nodded approvingly. "The food tastes delicious," he remarked, a rare compliment from him.

"Thank you, my child. You must try this too. Ayzal, serve him more," Ayzal's mother chimed in enthusiastically.

"No, I have enough for now," Zayan politely declined, his expression guarded.

"You look weak, Zayan. Have some more, dear. Ayzal, give him some," her mother insisted.

As Ayzal leaned over attempting to spoon more curry onto his plate, Zayan's hand shot out, gripping hers firmly to prevent the spillage of curry onto his plate. In the process, some of the hot curry dripped onto his hand accidentally.

Ayzal winced in concern, immediately retracting her hand. "I am sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It is fine," Zayan cut in tersely, wiping his hand with a napkin before resuming his meal, his gaze fixed on his plate.

Ayzal retreated quietly, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. She knew Zayan's aversion to being served by her, a reflection of his desire to maintain distance. It was moments like these that highlighted the growing divide between them.

Throughout dinner, conversation ebbed and flowed around the table, punctuated by the occasional attempt at light-hearted banter. Ayzal's father tried to engage Zayan, but his responses remained curt and distant, his attention seemingly elsewhere.

After the meal, as they helped clear the table and wash dishes, Ayzal's mother caught her concerned glances towards Zayan "Don't worry, Ayzal. Accidents happen" she assured Ayzal softly.

Later that evening, Ayzal found Zayan lying on the bed, his eyes closed. She approached him tentatively, unsure of how to breach the heavy silence that hung between them.

"Zayan, I am glad you could join us today... and about dinner, I am sorry if—" Ayzal began softly, her words faltering.

"It is fine," he interrupted, his voice weary yet firm, cutting off her apology before she could finish.

Ayzal nodded slowly, her heart weighed down by unspoken emotions. She longed to understand him, to bridge the growing distance between them, but Zayan's walls seemed impenetrable.

She lingered by the bedside, aching to reach out but in the silence that followed, she realized words alone weren't enough.