Muslimah in love

7. Burnt

Salaam/Peace.Hmm, So do you think Zara is a self-pitying annoying person or do you think she ought to feel like this? Please, do let me know what you think and don't forget to vote! Thank you for reading....xx

 I woke up for fajr (pre-dawn) prayers and found the bed empty but at least he had left a message saying, 'At the masjid for fajr.' I got up feeling refreshed. I had spent some of the night watching him sleep: his beautiful face, the way his lips parted slightly, his sharp jaw, his smooth skin and the way his long eyelashes curled ever so slightly. Then I slept peacefully in the arm of my husband and it felt wonderful. Normal for now. It felt like I was grabbing onto every second I could get of him; afraid to loose him to the silence again. After a few weeks of normality, I did.  

Nowadays,  Zaid came home on time for dinner. I was pleased. But it wasn't like before, He didn't speak and I did most of the talking; about my day, my work, and anything I could think of just to fill the dead silence. The living room, TV or his phone seemed preferable to him than me or the bedroom. I spent nights going to sleep drowning the pillow in tears. Things hadn't changed after all. I wasn't any more loveable to him then I had been before our apologies.

But I continued fulfilling wife duties. It didn't stop me from being the devoted wife, smiling constantly or asking him if he had eaten or having his plate of food ready as soon as he walked in. His full lips hardly smiled and his face remained blank. Sometimes, it felt like he couldn't look at me or stand the sight of me. Be patient and Allah will help me I advised myself. These days it was the hope of us bonding and the  fear of my brothers marriage that kept me going, continuing to live like this; miserable and lonelier than ever. Huh, the irony. But I couldn't and didn't want to leave Zaid. I knew deep inside he needed me.

We were going to a small dinner party to my friend and Zaids cousin, Karina and Samaar's house. I sat in the living room waiting for Zaid to come home. Late as usual. I had already left a dozen messages. I hated the feeling of being late. It felt like I had lost control and my plan gone astray. It made me feel panicky and annoyed. I remembered looking at Young and Rubicams seven types of people theory in year 13 and I classed myself as a succeeder. My husband clearly wasn't one. But I thought he had been when we married but now he seemed more of a...I don't  know. Clearly, I didn't know who my husband was anymore. And I wasn't any closer to figuring out his closed  suitcase of secrets.

Finally, he walked in. I switched the flat screen TV off but sat still on the sofa.

'Finally, ready to go?' I asked.

'Where?'

'To Karina and Samaar's house. I left you messages and I reminded you yesterday and the day before.'

'Ok, Sorry. Let's go then.'

I looked him up and down.

'Can you at least look a little more... presentable. You look.. like you just came back from work.' I said hesitantly. I didn't want to nag but he simply could go looking in such a rough state. I smoothed down my long navy dress, self-consciously.

'I just did come back from work.'

'I know but you can't go to a dinner party looking so...please just go on wear something else. All your clothes are ironed and clean.' My phone rang. It was Karina-again. 'Please hurry up, we're already running late. This is like the fifth time Karina has called me wondering why we're not there yet.'

'Alright. I am going.' He said stomping off. Men could be so childish at times.

After Zaid emerged looking gorgeous in his slim khaki trousers and a navy pressed button down shirt and blazer, we set off. Thanks to the short traffic and the super quick stop at Tesco's for some flowers and food, it didn't take too long to get there. I just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I was too drained out from work and way too annoyed to speak.