The Wake.

10

Azfar's day at work had been better than any other day. The whole day he had been thinking about Iraj which only made him smile. He couldn't wait to go back home and see her. He bought her favourite candies, he knew Iraj loved candies more than anything.

The moment his car entered the street of his house he saw a very familiar car parked outside. It was Mehran's car. Azfar's mood immediately turned into fury. Mehran was at his house with his wife. All his happiness had gone into trash. He parked his car in his driveway and got out leaving the candies behind as he didn't care about them anymore.

He could hear the laughter coming from his living room when he entered inside. On the contrary his happiness had vanished now. He walked in and Iraj stood there in the lounge with many balloons and gifts around her. Mehran was standing next to the table with a cake.

"Azfar, aap agaye." She smiled at him with pure joy and went up to him.

(Azfar, you're here.)

"Hm." He tried not to look like what he was feeling but now he truly didn't know what to do.

"Come on in, Mr Zaman. We've been waiting for you to cut the cake." Mehran spoke from behind Iraj and she held his arm.

It was completely unclear to him why she wanted him to be happy and part of her celebration with her ex-lover. He didn't want to be there. Not even for a second. But this was his house. If anyone had to leave, it should've been Mehran.

"Azfar?" She called out to him softly when he didn't move.

"I need to do some work Iraj. Don't disturb me." He shrugged her hand off of him and moved past her leaving her in a very awkward position in front of Mehran who was keenly smiling at everything that was happening.

She suddenly grew extremely upset and sad. Her head went tilting down as she looked at the floor unable to understand why her husband had not stayed even for a moment.

"Aww Iraj. Don't be upset. Come we'll cut the cake." She turned to Mehran who was waiting for her.

"Mehran. I'm not in the mood anymore. Sorry, but thank you for all these gifts. I already told you I can't accept them. So please take them with you. I'm very tired too. Good night." She said in a formal tone not wanting to talk further.

"Alright. Alright sweetie. Iraj, you rest up okay. I'll call you in the morning." He passed a quick smile and went out of the house.

With a heavy heart Iraj went to see her husband. He was not inside his room so she understood that he'd be inside the study. She stood outside waiting for him to come. She didn't want to go to her room without asking him what had happened to him. She had been waiting all day for him to come back home. And now his change of mood had put her in an anxious state.

Iraj stood outside the room for almost thirty minutes, her legs were hurting but neither she wanted to enter as she knew he would get more upset nor she wanted to leave without seeing him. The door opened and Azfar saw her there and he was himself shocked seeing her.

"Azfar, is everything okay?" She asked trying to smile.

"Yes, why are you asking?" He tried to leave but she held his hand.

"Azfar, Mehran aye thay mujhe birthday wish karnay, aur mene unhe roka tha. Aur mene unhe iss liye roka—" She tried to explain but he cut her off.

(Azfar, Mehran came here to wish me birthday, and I asked him to wait. And I did so because—)

"Iraj, I don't care. I really don't. But yes, can you meet him at a place that's not my house? I guess I deserve that much respect, if not more." His words made Iraj feel a lot of hurt. All her happiness had been taken away again.

"Are you doubting my loyalty? Do you think I—" She tried not to cry. Suppressing her cries she tried her best to speak but was cut off again.

"Iraj, I don't care." He walked away leaving her all by herself as her tears came down after flooding her eyes.

She had never thought that her husband would think of her and Mehran as something more than just friends after their marriage. He didn't trust her. Iraj felt too hurt to even cry out loud. Her chest was hurting. She tried to move towards her room with whatever strength was left inside her and then saw the birthday note beside her bed. The same paper that she had fallen asleep holding last night. The same paper that had made her believe things would finally be better between her and Azfar. She felt like her soul was being ripped apart at the sight of the paper.

Her birthday had again turned out to be one of the same like her few ones that were spent with some little celebration during her childhood whenever her friends would ask her to throw a party and her parents would not be home as her mother always go for her travel trips with her friends, her father was mostly absent from home as he'd be on his work trips, and then most of the mothers wouldn't send their daughters to her house due to no supervision. She would call her mother on her birthday, her father's phone being busy most of the time and she'd be told that it was very bothersome of her to make a fuss about a random day.

After two, three years she had learnt her lesson well and had started to erase the importance of the matter from her mind and life. She'd keep quiet in all the discussions amongst her friends when it came to birthdays and gifts and celebrations. The day had become much more hateful for her now, especially after what her husband had said. She never wanted to have the date and event mentioned in her life again.

She fell asleep after crying silently on her pillow for hours. Waking up next morning she went down after changing her clothes. She thought maybe if she spoke to Azfar he might understand.

She saw him moving towards the door to leave for work without having breakfast, the untouched kitchen indicated that he hadn't cooked anything for himself and she went after him, "Azfar, please wait."

He stopped and turned around to look at her, "Yes?"

"Why didn't you eat anything?" She spoke trying to sound normal.

"I'm not hungry." He stated directly.

"Mujhse ghussa mat hon Azfar, please." She held his hand and looked at him with desperate eyes.

(Don't be upset with me Azfar, please.)

"I'm not upset with you, we are fine Iraj." He had spoken without any emotion but Iraj tried to not think too much into it.

"Okay, okay. As long as you're alright I'm okay." She exhaled trying to smile.

"I'll be late." And with that he left without even waiting for her to say anything else.

I just love Iraj so much. No matter how much any man is well written, I am sorry but I tend to write them a little realistically. Perfection does not exist and I haven't seen or witnessed that in men all my life. Women on the other hand even with flaws are always trying their best to be better.