From Aliya to Hafiz

Fifty-two.

Hafiz.

I felt suffocated.

The endless circle of waking up hungover to the sound of the Quran playing just to get drunk and fall unconscious was taking a toll on me and I knew it. It had been two weeks since Aliya left, a week since Jasra went to Nigeria, and I hadn't heard anything from either of them.

I would be lying if I said I didn't miss her, I missed her like crazy. My only solace was our wedding album and that baby picture of us with innocent smiles. At that time, she was happy to be with me. Now, she didn't want anything to do with me.

I mostly sat in my room, staring at everything and nothing. Father and Unais accompanied me through the evening, and I was surprised when they didn't rage at me when they saw me drunk out of my mind.

Instead, Father had settled me in my bed properly while Unais used a warm towel to wipe my face.

"If this is what makes you feel better, then do it. But only if it makes you feel better."

That was what Father had said to me, before walking to the living space in my room to go through some work documents. He ended up spending the night in my room.

Did it make me feel better? It only made me miserable, I hated the taste of it, hated how I felt myself going woozy and consciousness blurred. I tried to cut back on the booze but that meant I listened to the Quran more and more, even now as I sat in the lounge chair in the balcony handling some work, my EarPods were on with Surah Yusuf playing. And that made me extremely nervous.

Abir had handled my work for the past two weeks and I felt too guilty to let him deal with it further, especially after finding out he missed out on his and Arshi's anniversary dinner.

My failed love story was enough of a tragedy, I wouldn't want to drag him down as well.

Unais sat on the chair next to me, taking a rest. I knew he hadn't been sleeping properly, every time I passed out on the floor, I woke up to myself lying on the bed and in clean clothes. And I knew he was the one who did it.

It had always been him.

These days, as I watched him and Father, I had this urge that only got stronger and stronger. The urge to be like them, their maturity, calmness and...spirituality, everything, appealed to me. But I didn't know whether it was what I wanted or if I was only thinking this way because I wanted a chance at being with her.

I tried to focus on my work but kept getting distracted by the voice coming from my EarPods, curious about what I was hearing. Eventually, I gave up and opened up the translation and followed along, becoming absorbed.

Suddenly, an EarPod was removed and I looked to my left, startled, to see Unais placing it against his ear. "Hm," he hummed. "I thought as much."

"Give it back," I reached for it, panicking for whatever reason but he evaded me. "Unais," I snapped, annoyed.

"Yusuf? No wonder you are so engrossed. What do you think of it?" He studied me.

I frowned. "Give it back."

"Answer me first."

Frustrated, I snapped. "I don't know, it's just kind of soothing to listen to so I hear it on repeat."

"And you follow along with the translation?"

"No, just today."

"Tell me honestly, what's on your mind?"

The frown was back. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"You want to give Islam a try, don't you?"