Aya is in Pakistan, to demand a divorce from her estranged husband Adam. 5 years ago, University of Manchester, in a whirl wind romance he promised her the universe and of course he could have given it to her being the heir to the family fortune...
——————— 5 years ago. . . My hands are sticky with cold perspiration. my fingers frozen from the icy cold. Ive forgotten my gloves in a rush to get to uni. I tuck my hands into my pockets and pull the coat around me. Oh great, a button missing! I lift the collar and overlap it carefully to ensure it covers me as much as possible. I wait outside the Stopford building. It's snowing! Perhaps they'll cancel some of the lectures. I'll have to leave straight away today, otherwise I wont be able to make it home on time. Traffic was horrendous this morning, it took me twice as long to get in. Automatically, I take out my phone. to call Adam straight away, there is a missed call from him. I listen to the drill of the rhythmic bell, but the call goes straight through to answer phone. May be it's on silent. I hurry up to the auditorium thinking he'll be there. Where are u? I text My stomach does a strange squeezy flop when I scan the seats and don't see him. I keep my phone on silent in front of me in case he texts. He does, 15 minutes into the session: Catch u later, something's come up. I feel the nervousness creeping up on me. Even then, looking back on it all, I remember instinctively feeling dread- this 'something' was going to be bad.
'Is everything ok with Adam? He cancelled the study group revision today, I thought he said it was important. . . ' Marcus is from our group of friends. His voice is casual, but I can see he's edgy from the way he runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. 'I'm sure it'll be ok' i say -not feeling the conviction of the words I'm saying . I feel a sense of dread creeping up on me. . .
Modern day
I'm sat at the breakfast table, trying to feign some sort of normal behaviour. I chew and swallow but barely taste the food. I must be radiating this solemn mood because everyone at the table is quiet. Pensive. Zara seems to be lost in her thoughts. She looks at me and gives me a tentative smile. God I must look really bad if even she can sense something is wrong. I want to go upstairs and crawl back into bed. Get under the covers and fall asleep.
3 months ago. . .
The day after my mother passed away. I woke up in the night and found myself wandering into her room to check her stats. Instead I found an empty bed. I just stood and stared at it for what seemed like an hour. The smell of the musty meds and sweat was still heavy in the room. I backed into the chair, in the corner and stared at the bed. My heart ached. I remember that feeling vividly. It actually ached like it had when Adam left. A part of me wanted to disappear. Just end everything right then and there. Because it was just a lonely place. In those last few months I had been busy between work and looking after mum , during those final stages of palliative care. I wonder if she held on because she knew how lonely I was and how much worse it would be after she left. Now there is a void. A huge empty crevice in my chest. Alone. Definitely alone now. . .
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5 years ago. .. After Adam left i clung to her life more than I cared for my own. Mum would look at me with concern 'What's wrong?' She would asktouching my face with swollen fingers, as if she knew that a part of me had been lost. Perhaps she could see the sadness inmy eyes because she suddenly mirrored it in her own. I knew she felt bad because she thought she was a burden. She suddenly started apologising all the time. It broke my heart. I was struggling to stay afloat. This vortex of trepidation and growing disquiet between us, as we moved towards the tragic end.
Present day
Ami-ji is watching me quietly. I sit ram rod straight. Waiting, knowing she is trying to find the words to speak to me. She takes a deep breath and then stops. I look up at her from my plate. She twists her mouth to the side, as if she is still not sure about the approach she is going to take with me. 'When Adam came back home, he was different. It wasn't just his father being sick. It was something else -even then, I knew something was not right. He was so quiet and-' she sighs 'sad, like his father had already died. But I know now, it wasn't his father he was thinking of. It was you. You see he changed. Yes he was always serious before, but this was serious and resentful. As if he hated the world.. . .' Her words trail off and leave a empty space between us. ' he just seemed to be lost,' she continues thoughtfully, 'and sad, so sad. . . . I couldn't bare it!' She tutts. 'It didn't matter what we said, he just closed himself off from everyone. Even Zara couldn't reach him. . .' I think of that Adam again, the one who followed me around the campus, laughing and flirting with me shamelessly. The one who made love to me for the first time, the one who knelt down in front of me and made all those unspoken promises. The Adam who always tucked my hands into his jacket, around his waist, to warm me up. The Adam who told me the refractory coffee tasted like battery acid. The guy who would always grab my hand, look up at me with those sexy pleading eyes and try to urge me to stay for a little white longer.
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Ami ji is lost in her own thoughts. She is looking out of the window, her eyes glassy from her memories. She got her son back but he wasn't the boy that had left her.
Now I have my husband back, but he's not the man I remember. Looks like we both lost out on something. . . .
