Life Of Imani

chapter 28

As Nassim stepped out of the car, he turned to Iman and said, "Stay here, there are some files I need to pick up."

Iman remained in the passenger seat, casually scrolling through TikTok. As she mindlessly flicked through the videos, her thoughts drifted back to the accusations swirling around Nassim. Frustration built up, and she decided to address the rumors herself.

She hit record on her phone, adjusting her posture before speaking.

"Hello, everyone. Let's just get straight to the point. What you read on that blog is a blatant lie. It *never* happened. I honestly wonder why people sit down and concoct lies about others." She rolled her eyes, her voice shaking with annoyance. "The reason for the injury was totally different—I fell down the stairs. My husband loves me, and we're living in peace. So none of this concerns you." She ended the video abruptly, her jaw tight with anger, and hit 'post.'

By the time Nassim returned to the car, she was fuming, staring out of the window.

"What’s with the face?" he asked as he slid into the driver’s seat, pulling away from the warehouse.

Iman crossed her arms, her irritation bubbling over. "Isn’t it this pile of nonsense?" she snapped. "What’s their business with our lives? Every single day there’s something—either I’m 'looking sad' at the supermarket or *you’re* allegedly maltreating me. What is their problem? Wai haba!" she hissed, her frustration spilling out.

Nassim, unbothered, shrugged. "Hmm."

His nonchalance pushed Iman over the edge. "And *you*—what is your problem, Wai?" she shouted. "One minute you act like you care, the next minute you’re cold towards me. If you never wanted this marriage, you should have just said so!"

Without waiting for a response, Iman shoved open the car door, slamming it behind her as they arrived home.

Iman sat fuming after slamming the car door, her emotions a whirlwind of anger and frustration. She stormed into the house without another word, leaving Nassim standing by the car for a moment, staring after her. His usual calm demeanor masked the storm brewing inside him, though he hadn't shown much during the drive.

As he walked into the house, he found her pacing around the living room.

"You just shut me out, Nassim. Every time there's something wrong, you act like it's nothing," she said, voice shaking with anger.

Nassim took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. "What do you want me to say, Iman? You keep feeding into all this nonsense. People will always talk, and the more you react, the worse it gets."

"React?" she scoffed. "You don't care at all, do you? It's like none of this affects you. It's *me* they’re dragging through the mud, not you. It's our life, Nassim, our marriage."

"I'm handling it in my way," he replied, his voice low and measured, but his eyes sharp with a glint of frustration. "You think posting on TikTok will fix things? It just gives them more to twist around."

Iman shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You don't get it. I needed to defend myself. Every day, they make me look like some... some victim, and you... like some villain. It's suffocating."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with words unsaid. Finally, Nassim rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a long breath. "I never wanted this, Iman. The gossip, the accusations... all of it. But I wanted you."

Iman's eyes softened for a moment, but the hurt was still there. "Then why does it feel like you’re slipping away?,Hmm even you are not close"

Nassim looked at her, his expression unreadable. "I’m still here," he said, before turning and heading to the kitchen, leaving her standing in the living room, wondering if "here" was really enough anymore.

The next day, the tension between them lingered like a heavy cloud. Nassim moved through the house in silence, his mood distant and cold. Iman watched him quietly from the kitchen as he made himself coffee, his movements stiff and methodical. She could feel the wall between them growing taller with each passing minute.

Unable to take the silence any longer, she spoke in a quiet, almost fragile voice. "You said you care about me."

Nassim paused, his hand hovering over the cup. He didn’t turn to face her, but she saw his shoulders tense. The silence felt louder than any argument they'd had.

"I do," he finally said, his voice flat, emotionless.

Iman bit her lip, feeling the sting of his coldness more sharply than any harsh words he could have thrown at her. "It doesn’t feel like it, Nassim."

He turned slowly, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. His eyes were hard to read, distant. "I’m trying, Iman. But sometimes... it’s exhausting. The accusations, the drama. It’s like no matter what I do, it's never enough."

"But I never asked you to fix everything," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I just need you to be here. With me. Not somewhere else in your head."

Nassim sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as if searching for the right words but finding none. The weight of the conversation pressed down on him, and for a moment, he just stared at the floor. Iman watched him, her heart sinking further as the silence stretched between them.

Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes tired but softening slightly. "I don’t know how to be here for you right now, Iman. I’m... overwhelmed. With everything. The gossip, the pressure... even us. It’s not that I don’t care, I just... I don’t know how to handle it all."

Iman blinked back the tears threatening to spill. "I’m overwhelmed too, Nassim. But I can’t do this alone. I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t even know why."

Nassim stepped closer, his posture less guarded now, though still unsure. "I don’t want you to feel like that. I just... I shut down when things get too much, and maybe that’s why I seem cold. But I don’t want to lose you either."

Iman took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper as she asked, "So, what do we do now?"

Nassim reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand. "Maybe... we talk. Really talk. No TikTok, no rumors, just us. Let’s figure this out together."

Iman looked down at their hands, feeling a flicker of hope but still uncertain. "Okay," she said softly. "But I need you to promise me that you’ll try. I can’t keep feeling like this."

Nassim nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "I promise. We’ll figure this out."

For the first time , there was a small sense of possibility between them, though the path ahead was still uncertain. But for now, they stood together, willing to try.