.
.
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Aslam walked out of his father's section with his chest heaving, a headache beginning to surface.
The heated argument played on loop in his mind.
It wasn't Mami's fault, so why would he take his anger out on her? He hadn't seen his father that furious in very long, and though he tried to stay calm, the confrontation had shaken him deeply.
His father's threat kept replaying in his mind, he knew his father well and knew what he was capable of. There was the feeling of guilt too for speaking to him like that. But then he remembered his mother's tears, which only intensified his rage.
When he reached Mami's section, his breath was still heavy. He saw Amna pacing near the staircase, her face pale. Without looking at her, he said, "Get your bag,"
"Babe, is everything alright? Ina Mami? -where is Mami?" she asked, trying to make eye contact, holding his hand.
He shook his head, his eyes avoiding hers. "We're going home."
Amna didn't press further. She could see that he was struggling to maintain his composure, and she knew better than to push him in that moment. She quickly grabbed her bag and followed him out to the car.
The ride home was tense, filled with pin drop silence. Aslam drove fast through the narrow Asokoro streets without uttering a single word.
She watched him from the passenger seat, she wanted to reach out but she had never seen him that angry, even when they fought.
When they finally pulled into the driveway of their home, Aslam parked with a screech. He shut the car door with a bang and stormed into the house without a word. Amna trailed behind him, worried and scared of what to do or say.
He went upstairs and banged the door to their room which made Amna flinch and then she ran towards the room and opened the door. She found Aslam pacing back and forth, restlessly. His hands were tightly clenched into fists, and every few seconds, he brought them up to his lips as if he were trying hard to think.
Amna lingered by the doorway, unsure whether to approach him or give him space. After a few minutes of contemplating, she finally cleared her throat. "Aslam..." she hesitated. "Are you okay?"
Silence.
"Aslam," she began softly, "please talk to me."
He didn't stop pacing, as if he was trying to outrun his thoughts. "Amna, not now please. I just... I need to think."
She stood there, watching him struggle with his emotions. She took steps closer to him and when she reached him, she gently reached out and took both of his hands in hers. She looked up, searching his eyes but he turned his gaze away, unable to meet her eyes.
"Babeee, why are we in therapy? we're supposed to face things together, right? I'm here for you. Whatever it is, I know this is hard for you."
He finally looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, frustration, and something deeper... hurt. "Baba said he would disown me, Amna. Can you believe that? Because of what Nabil did, he said he would disown me and Nabil. I've never seen him like that before."
Amna placed a hand on his arm. "Babe, he was angry. People say things they don't mean when they're upset. You know that."
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I know Baba, he can do whatever he says. And Nabil! Oh, the next time I set my eyes on that foolish boy...." He sighed.
"He stole $300,000. Can you imagine? He's been lying about school too, squandering his tuition, and apparently, he's been traveling around Europe with girls, that boy is just 22 for God's sake. I don't know what's gotten into him, I just hope he is not doing drugs." Aslam paused. "And Baba... is very angry, rightfully so. But he shouldn't have taken it out on Mami and broken things."
