Enwrapped

Chapter 26

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Usually, Muzammil liked using his keyboard. It had light under the keys which caused a glow as he typed. The mechanical keys made click-clack sounds with every letter he wrote, making him feel like he was making proper progress in the work he was doing.

Tonight, the sound just made him feel noisy and uncomfortable.

Saboor lay in the center of the bed, asleep in the same position since hours. Her breathing had deepened and she didn't shift around as much, which could mean one very important thing: that she was getting well-needed sleep. And Lord knew she needed it.

Muzammil, on the other hand, was busy trying to make as less noise as he could with the mechanical keyboard under his hands. He was building a new life, brick by brick, with every conversation and every website. So far, he had a week full of sessions with one of the best therapists in the region, rented a cottage for the same amount of time, and figured out a company in the vicinity who was willing to work with him, and hopefully, in due course, become a permanent client.

Decisions, decisions. He just hoped he was strong enough to carry a mental load for both of them.

When he had told Saboor he was going to make decisions she would have to just follow, he had wondered how on earth would he ever be able to choose the best option for her, and not regret it later. He didn't want to be reason she felt worse than she did before- God, he would hate himself if that were to happen. Thankfully, Moustafa, who had a lot of connections from college, called a classmate's friend's sister (or something), and got information about the best mental health facilities in the region and the doctors there. He was grateful to his brother, but when he asked what Moustafa wanted as a reward for his hard work, the idiot just said: "Let me borrow your bike."

Of course, he got the keys ASAP.

~

It was six in the morning now, and Muzammil had just finished offering the morning prayer. He sat on the prayer mat, raising his hands in dua.

Oh Allah, he thought, grant me enough strength to let this storm pass. Grant me the strength for my wife, who I adore more than anything in this world. Grant me the strength until she is capable of getting back on her feet, and grant her the courage to come back stronger.

A tear slid down his cheek, and quickly wiping it, he got off the mat. Climbing onto the bed, he sat beside Saboor, and gently, ran his fingers through her hair.

"Wake up, Saboor. It's time to pray."

She forced her eyes open quite a few moments later.

Saboor thought she had slept like a log throughout the night. A heartless, unfeeling log who didn't care about anything else but herself. She had spent the entire day yesterday doing things that definitely hurt her family like a stab right in the heart, and here she was, right after that, sleeping.

Maybe she did deserve the throbbing ache that rose in her head.

"Come on," he said, still running hands through her hair, "I've heated the water for you to wash up. It's chilly all over."

If she had the energy, she would have burst into tears once again at his words. Was he really human? Despite everything she had done to him, he had heated water for her because it was cold.

Sitting up in bed, Saboor stifled a groan, and pushed the blanket away from her body. It sure was chilly.

Muzammil caressed her cheek, pushing away strands that stuck to her face. "How are you feeling now?" he asked, then immediately cringed at his own question. "I shouldn't have asked that, right?"