My husband hates me

Chapter 27

It was dusk, raining the sky was cloudy, I looked through the window, it was late Musa was asleep. I wrapped a shawl around my shoulders and left my room to welcome Saad back home.

Saad had changed a lot, his demeanour, his attitude around me terrified me, I already knew he wasn't mine alone, I had accepted the fact when I married him. That I would have to share him with Seher. But when I saw Seher's nonchalance towards Saad, I thought maybe he could be just mine.

Saad would never experience the loneliness I felt. He was with me, but he wasn't.  He was my husband. If Seher didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't like me anymore, then he could marry again. The thought terrified me. People would consider me a hypocrite for agreeing be his second wife, but I couldn't tolerate another woman.

He didn't conceal his affection for Seher anymore. There was no sadness or anger anymore. I had matured, after Musa, I found another purpose. But I was in a constant state of hopelessness. The denial was gone.

Why couldn't he see that I was the one who loved him more?

I did everything my mother had asked me to, never screamed at him, I never glared at him, never spoke back, and was always the kind of wife he had wanted. But he couldn't see me. It was like I was disappearing slowly, like a ghost.

Saad's car pulled up, and I braced myself, tightening the shawl around me. He stepped out, his expression unreadable as always. He glanced at me briefly, a fleeting acknowledgment, and then moved past me into the house.

"Welcome home," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. He didn't respond, just shrugged off his wet coat and handed it to me before heading upstairs.

I stood there, feeling the cold dampness of his coat seep into my hands, and watched as he disappeared up the stairs. The silence was deafening. I followed him up, the creak of each step echoing in the quiet house.

In our bedroom, Saad was already changing out of his wet clothes, his back turned to me. I hesitated at the door, unsure of what to say or do. My heart ached to reach out to him, to bridge the chasm that had grown between us, but I was paralyzed by fear and insecurity.

"Saad," I began tentatively, "How was your day?"

He turned to look at me, his eyes devoid of warmth. "It was fine," he replied curtly. "I'm tired, I need to sleep."I nodded, biting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course," I said, my voice trembling. "Goodnight, Saad."

This wasn't the life he had promised me of. This wasn't the Saad I fell in love with. He had the same face, same grey eyes, but in those eyes there was a distance, a coldness that hadn't been there before. The warmth and tenderness I had once known were replaced by indifference. I missed the way he used to smile at me, the way his eyes would light up with affection. Now, they were empty, as if he had built a wall around his heart that I couldn't penetrate.

I lay beside him and realised that although he was my husband, he didn't see me as his wife anymore. 

___

When I first met him, he was so young and innocent. I had always thought we would live the perfect life, although our backgrounds were different. Saad had promised that he liked me because I spoke my mind, I wasn't quiet.

He had promised to marry me before he left for Azamgarh, we exchanged letters. But one day, I was informed that he married another, the daughter of General. My heart broke, I had waited years and years to marry him, so I travelled to his home. To confront him, and he agreed to take me as his second wife.

I wasn't the other woman, she was, she came in between us. That's what I thought until I met her. Saad didn't exist in Seher's eyes. We were happy, blissful in the beginning until Seher miscarried, she would cry for hours, Saad told me she had lost her mind. I believed him because, why would he lie?

And her actions proved his words, when she threatened to kill him. I had never seen a woman expressing her rage.

He reassured me that it was a political wedding, it was for his greater good.

But when I saw him visit her room daily, I cried within the four walls that he was beginning to abandon.

Saad was gravely injured, yet she prayed for his demise. He had once told me that he wished he was born in a normal family, I had promised myself to give him the life he deserved. And he had promised me, that I would be the only he would love unlike his father.

He forgot his promise, I didn't. I had taken it to my heart, thinking he would never break it. But when I saw his love for Seher slowly I realised that those promises didn't carry any weight.

Saad was a foodie, Biryani was his favourite, the dish I had persistently learnt and got better at cooking. He wouldn't accept my feelings, but when he ate the food I prepared, it seemed to be the only time he acknowledged my efforts. He never said it outright, but the way he devoured every bite, it was a small victory for me.

Seher was tall, if the two stood beside each other, her head reached his nose. I didn't realise it, but maybe it was instinctual, I bought shoes that could elevate my height.

In Saad's love, I was willing to become Seher.

He loved Seher and she lied that he abused her, I had never seen anything but yearning in his eyes for Seher...

Saad could be inconsiderate, unfair but he wasn't abusive. He had never raised his voice at me, how could he hurt Seher? He had witnessed his mother being whipped to death, this was his trauma, something that had scarred him for life.

I tried to understand Seher's hatred towards Saad, but it never made sense to me. Maybe it was the grief of losing their child that turned her heart cold, or perhaps it was something deeper, something I couldn't comprehend. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't replace her in his heart.

There were nights when I lay awake, watching him sleep, and wondered what went wrong. What did she have that I didn't? Why couldn't he see the love I had for him? I wanted to be everything for him, but it seemed like I was nothing more than a shadow in his life.

Two months had passed since she left, I took care of him, she poisoned him yet he was still obsessed with her. His health deteriorated after she left, and I was the one by his side, nursing him back to health. I was the one who stayed up all night, making sure he was comfortable, making sure he had everything he needed. But despite all my efforts, it was her name he called out in his fevered delirium.

"Seher," he would murmur, reaching out as if she was there beside him. Each time he did, it felt like a knife twisting in my heart. I wanted to scream, to shake him and make him see that I was the one who loved him, the one who was there for him. But I remained silent, swallowing my pain because Saad didn't like women who talked back.

It was a normal day, Musa was asleep when I saw the postman arrive, I thought it was a letter from my parents.  But when I opened it, it was divorce papers with Saad and Seher's names.

Was Saad leaving her? On checking the address, I realized it was from Jahangir Shaikh... would Saad sign it?

It would bruise his ego. A wife asking for khula was unheard of. And for a man like Saad, it was more of an insult because khula was granted on one condition: if the man was incompetent.

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A/n : the rules in this village are wrong and twisted. They aren't following Islam.

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