A Delightful Tragedy

29. New Beginnings

F I V E    Y E A R S   L A T E R

SIKE YALL THOUGHT 😂
Look at your faces!
I was just kidding.
Continuation of last chapter.

U M È M A' S    P O V

"Are you really in such a hurry to get away from me that you're asking for a divorce? Fine, if that's what you want, then listen." He heaved. "If you are stubborn then so am I."

"Khula lena hai to lelo. Talaaq nahi dunga." He breathed out.

(Khula: In Islam, Khula refers to a legal process through which a woman can initiate a divorce from her husband.

Talaaq: Talaaq in Islam refers to divorce initiated by the husband.)

I can't initiate a Khula, I married him because my mother wanted me to. If I take a Khula then it will be yet another catastrophe for her.

There was silence yet again causing a thick air of confusion and tension build among us.

After a long silence, I cleared my throat, forcing a calmness into my voice. "Maybe... maybe we should go downstairs. Everyone's waiting."

He nodded, avoiding my gaze as he straightened his shirt, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. Without another word, we walked down together, but the distance between us felt heavier with every step.

We entered the room where the family was gathered, each person engrossed in conversation, unaware of the storm brewing beneath our composed exteriors.

The evening wore on, with relatives laughing and chatting as they prepared to leave. I forced myself to smile, to offer polite goodbyes, all while feeling Shariq's silent presence nearby.

Finally, as the last few guests prepared to go, I picked up my bag, ready to make my own exit.

"Beta, Shariq will drop you home," his mother said warmly, oblivious to the strain between us.

"Oh, that's okay, Aunty," I replied quickly, shaking my head. "I'll call Fahad to pick me up."

She looked surprised. "Fahad? Why would you bother him at this hour? Shariq can—"

"Let it be, Mom," Shariq interjected, his voice calm but firm. "Let her do what she wants."

His mother looked between us, a hint of confusion flickering across her face. She nodded reluctantly, patting my shoulder as she turned to say her goodbyes to the rest of the family.

I forced myself to look up, meeting Shariq's gaze for a brief, tense moment. Neither of us spoke, but there was an understanding—a silent acknowledgment of how far apart we truly were.

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S H A R I Q' S P O V

I sank back in my chair, my fingers rubbing at my temples. The weight of Umèma's words from last night still clung to me, heavy and cold.

"She actually asked for a divorce, Rahim. Just like that," I said, the disbelief still fresh in my voice. "No arguments, no anger—just said it like it was the most logical thing in the world."

Rahim leaned forward, his face thoughtful but concerned. "And you... what did you say?"

"I told her she could take khula if she wanted," I replied, frustration flaring up in my chest. "But I won't divorce her. I know she doesn't see it, but she loves me too. I can feel it. She just... she just doesn't know it yet."