Interwoven

She is DEAD!

When I wished for her so badly, she ended up with someone else, now when I don't even ask for anyone, people are trying to shove down things my throat.
I want every best possible thing for Aaban and that is not very much I asked for?
Did I?
My life now stood at a crack from where I could fall tremendously.
I know nothing of the girl I'm married to. I don't know if she could assimilate the existence of a baby without being related to him.

The girl I married a few hours ago is already in my room. Everything happened so soon, she agreed on our terms without asking and expecting anything is a perplexing situation for me. I didn't anticipate things so on hand.

Fatima! Her name.
Mom asked Samana to settle her in my room.
Other then her name, I know nothing, not her appearance and to add up to my misery I wasn't able to hear her fathers name either.
First, I was too caught up with my thoughts, second, Aaban was messed up because of too many people, I guess.

I was on my way thinking of all the possible ways of igniting the conversation with my other half.
This is my first time talking to some girl other than Samana and my two best friends, never in my life I chit chatted with girls, except business.
I was always the shy type!

I stood outside my room, holding the doorknob, cautiously for I don't want the door to go ajar, awakening the light out of my day.
I went deeper into the room only to find her in the balcony, she stood there, her head tilted up to the sky.
I stayed quiet for a while if anyway she could sense my presence, perhaps I don't want to get noticed in the first place.

I couldn't confide her state of mind either what might she be thinking? Maybe I should do something to let her know my presence?
I heaved my chest and blew out a long breath. My breathing sounded terrific to me.

"Assalamualaikum." I went further and stood at the door of the balcony. Still sceptical to talk.
"Walekumassalam."
My eyebrows scrunched and creases formed on my forehead.
Her voice?
"We never know what is planned for us.! When Samana and your mom approached me," she chuckled, "I never thought they would." She completed turning around, carrying a pensive smile on her lips.

All my face showed was horror and bewilderment. How could someone just go and come like nothing in your life? Nothing I meant before in her life nor now.
My chest started heaving with rage filling in the gap after every air I breathe.
I closed my eyes with the longingness, I wish all of this to get dissolve into nothing. I wish I open my eyes and Aaban to be stood in front of me.
I wish I never agreed to all of this.

I slammed my fist near the wall of the balcony door frame. The trail of the light wetness from the finger to the palm made me realise the blood.
"Harris,...?" Fatima forwarded to me with dismay.
My eyes flew open.
"Are you dumb... What are you thinking?"
She held my hand in hers.
I snatched my hand from her hold abandoning hers in the mid-air.
"What are you doing here?" I doubted on the calmness in my voice.
I sounded calm like never.
"What do you think?"
I frowned. "I'm standing in a wedding dress with your approval of me being your lawful spouse... That made me your wife, right?"
Sarcasm dripped each word she said.
Why sure.
This is how Fatima works.
One moment my heartfelt relief as to someone old has returned however at the same time memories triggered the wrong bullseye,
Of you running,
For you know, why?

"I'm tired."
-And all this shouldn't have happend.- I wanted to say.

Sigh,!?

~~~~

Knock on the door pushed me awake from the sombre slumber.
The jingling of the bracelets travelling in the room from the closet to the door, she opens the door, "Assalamualaikum," Samana cheered.
"Walekumassalam."
"Bhai...?"
"Sleeping."
"Did guys had a talk, last night,?" I heard Samana saying in a hushed voice after a few seconds pause.
"No, not yet," Fatima whispered, she sounded sad?

Samana is the one who knows everything back then and now what all happening in my life.
She knows I loved Saima with all my might however with a respect, I agreed that she loved someone else.
I pushed my hand under my head, eyes still closed.
I'm married to Fatima...

"You awake?" I opened my eyes forcibly only to find her standing in front of the bed.
All ready!
She is beautiful.

I never denied that. She is beautiful, inside out. She always was.
Fatima cleared her throat to bring me back to senses.
"Why are you here?"
"You didn't talk to me last night?"
The exchange of questions when I'm in bad need of answers was not helping the once again building of rage in me.
"Why did you marry me, Fatima?" I gritted.
"We could talk like matures right?" Again!
"Answer me dammit!" She flinged and arched back from the roar I just attempted. Carrying a bit shock expression, however, she recovered herself so effortlessly.

"As far as I know you never drink, did you by any chance last night? Because you. are .not .behaving .sanely." She wondered the former and shouted the latter before leaving the room making me slump my shoulders in defeat.
Look who is acting maturely!
I sighed frustrated this time.

After a knock, Anisa came in with my baby.
"He was shouting for you."
"Da..." Aaban chirped instantly when his gazes fell on me.
Anisa handed me him.
"You may go." She nodded and left.
"Hey, baby." I cooed, he giggled as I tickled.
"Agag..." He said with his expression so sleek.
"Oh, really? Man, you are growing up, Is it so?"
He put his tongue out between his teeth and eyes narrowed.
"Oh, little man." I cooed again nuzzling my nose into his cheeks.
He giggled again.
"Slu...pslrp gaga gaga..." His fingers intertwined but at the same time, he tried to take his thumb in his mouth every time.
"Oh well, what would you do now?" I cooed again.
I tickled him once again as his baby giggles echoed in my room, filling my heart with pleasure and pure bliss.

"Stop that he may probably vomit, he was fed a few moments ago"
Fatima kept the breakfast tray on the bed and Anisa followed her bringing Aaban's walker in the room.
How long was she here?
I put Aaban in the walker, he giggles pressing the musical buttons on it, I went in to do my washroom chorus.

Fatima sat on the bed, next to her was Aaban playing in his walker.
"You don't have to bother," said I intending towards the breakfast.
"I was forced." She shrugged.
Yeah right, we married in all heavens!!
"I never heard you got married." She wondered not loud enough.
"Why did you run, Fatima?" I looked at her for a genuine reason.
She sighed.
Aaban was in his walker the door was locked therefore I need not worry for him.
"Stop calling it a run, will you?" She yelled, her nose flaring in irritation or anger, perhaps.

"When you don't tell your best friends when and why do you leave and for how long, it is called a run-away. No one knows where you were and your parents never told us because their daughter asked them to. That rings a bell?" I yelled, my every word dripped with pure rage.

Fair enough for you Fatima, you took four years to come back.
I took the slice of the omelette and bread and pushed it down my throat.
"You loved her and you both were going to marry." That alarmed me.
Did I think she never knows?
"I heard you talking to Samana and then I thought I wasn't needed here, anymore." She sounded dejected, her head held low.
"Yes I loved her, but we never married." Low growled chuckle escape my mouth.
Her head darted up and her eyes searched mine with a scrunched forehead.
"You never married her?" She barely whispered.
"Aaban?" She questioned.
"He is mine, he is my son." I pressed. She nodded.

"Where is she now? Is she married? Where does she live?"
My anger gearing up parallelly with her gradual increase in excitement. If I was quiet it was only because of Aaban. I don't want to scare him and at the same time, I want to isolate myself so bad.
"How could you fake it so well?" I hissed.
Her brows squirmed as she looked at me baffled.
"What do you mean?"

"She's dead."

I struggled to gulp the glass of water down to my dry throat, I took Aaban and went out of the room leaving the shocked and bewildered Fatima who sat there stiff looking at the oblivion.

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