NEHA
We had a dinner tonight. My little sister just graduated so my mother had organized a big celebration dinner in a grand hotel. Knowing my mother, it would probably be something extravagant and boring. There had been years when I enjoyed such events—only because Ramees and I were on speaking terms and joked about it constantly.Neither of us enjoyed a show of our money.
Which was what confused me to no end. Ramees and I were similar in so many aspects. Then why wasn't our marriage working?
I pushed down my queries and quickly got ready for the dinner. I applied a thick layer of kohl into my eyes and wore my usual attire. In front of the mirror, I saw a version of this girl that was a stranger to me.
I had been a woman—confident, content with the way I looked and assured of my husband's love for me.
Now, not so much.
This marriage was a slow poison for me. Day after day I felt myself drifting apart from my true essence, feeling less and less like a person and more like a robot—an object.
A sharp knock at the door drew my attention. I felt my back go stiff as Ramees's reflection shone in the mirror.
He barely tossed me a glance as he left the door ajar and stared straight at the bed, lips puckered in annoyance. He muttered a low curse and I winced, planning a quick escape.
"You remember the dinner, right?" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.
Finally his eyes slid to mine, as if just realising I was there. He sighed. "Mhm."
I closed my eyes, smothering my frustration with a stiff nod and turned to leave.
"Did you iron my clothes?"
I stopped, looked back at the guy I barely recognized anymore.
"Of course," I replied. That's all I was to him now. A maid. A nanny for his children. "They're downstairs. I'll go get them."
He waved a dismissive hand in the air, striding towards the bathroom. When the door closed, I finally breathed a lungful of oxygen.
God.
. . .
With the kids freshly showered and dressed, I quickly wore my jilbab. Footsteps sounded behind me just as I finished zipping up my gray and white robe. I turned back and saw Ramees bending down to hug the kids. As usual, Musa kept his distance while Hadiya remained unaware of her Dad's actions.For a split second, Ramees looked at me. His coffee coloured eyes didn't stay on my face for long. He quickly averted his gaze.
Grabbing his keys from the centerpiece on the table between the sofas, Ramees grabbed Hadiya's hand and led her out.
"We're waiting in the car." He called out to no one in particular.
I gave Musa a smile and stepped forward to ruffle his hair. "You go with them. I'll check all the locks and be there in five."
He sighed and walked away.
I quickly tied my niqab, as promised checked all the locks and sat in the car.
Throughout the ride, I noticed Ramees's jerky movements. The way his eyes never seemed to settle on one place and how his hands are constantly clutching, holding or drumming on the steering wheel.
I tried not to dwell on these little things even when the wheels in my mind were constantly whirring.
"Ramees," I said suddenly.
His head jerked in my direction but a sudden honk from the left had him looking straight ahead.
"What?" He doesn't even sound the same. His voice is timid. Shaky.
"Nothing," I say. Then, "Uh, so . . . What did you do all day?"
I could swear his whole demeanor changed. Worsened somehow. "What is that supposed to mean? I was working, of course."
I looked out of the window without another word. Thank God Hadiya opened her mouth to save the day. I might just lose it one of these days.
. . .
Music was blasting from the speakers placed on either side of the podium.I rubbed circles over my temples. "Can't we turn off the music at least? I'll have a headache for days."
My sister, Maham, shot me a shushing look, her eyes widened like a doll's. And that was exactly the way she looked. She was beautiful with her curly black hair fluffed up at the base of her neck and with big, intelligent eyes.
We couldn't be more different. Not just in appearances but in personalities and academics as well. While I was always an average grader, she topped in class. While I always wanted to marry young, she never wanted to get married. We're both living our dreams, I guess. I just wish mine didn't feel like a nightmare.
"Vanish with your husband like you always do," Maham advised, almost whispering in my ear. "He looks bored as heck. Don't look but I think he's messaging someone."
I quickly looked and sure enough, Ramees was typing something in his phone, hand shoved beneath the table cloth.
"Knowing Ramees, it's probably his friend or something. Poor guy is too in love with you to even think of anybody else, anyway."
I think I detected something in Maham's tone but I couldn't be sure. "Yeah, I guess so."
Though, day by day, I became more and more suspicious of him. I was never aware of his whereabouts or when he came home and slept.
In fact, him and I hadn't shared a bed in five months. It agitated me and I wanted to talk to him about it. Wanted to tell him that he wasn't taking correct care of my needs, that we had grown apart too much.
But I wasn't even sure if I wanted him that way. Not after how badly the last time we'd slept together had ended.
Even thinking about it now, my stomach lurched. Throat suddenly dry, I reached out for water and . . . My hand collided with Ramees's. We both stared at each other, neither of us used to the touch of the other. It had been so, so long since he'd even held my hand affectionately. Heck, we'd barely exchanged ten words in the past five months. In those bluish-brown eyes, I saw emptiness. Two shadowy orbs of nothingness held me captive.
He quickly removed his hand at the same time I did. Closing my eyes, I turned away and lightly tugged down my niqab out of nervous habit.
"I'm going out," he said, "You—you bring the kids when this is over. Okay?" He didn't wait for a response and stumbled up from the chair, walking away just as suddenly.
I stared after him.
"Is everything okay between you guys?" Maham asked.
I quickly nodded. "Yeah. Perfect."
She didn't dare doubt me. After all, Ramees and I had always been the perfect couple.
I waited for exactly ten minutes before excusing myself. I left Musa and Hadiya with Maham and made my way outside the hall.
I stopped short when I neared the car, seeing Ramees's face lit up with the light of his mobile phone. Again, I couldn't help but wonder if he was really talking to a woman.
A red-hot rage filled inside me, melting my insides like lava. I peeked at his expression. It was a mixture of things: agony, desolate, emptiness. There wasn't an inch of a smile on his face so I didn't know what to make of this situation. Maybe I was being overly dramatic.
But I had every right to be, I thought.
I could be as suspicious of him as I wanted to because surely there was something wrong with him. And now was the time to find out.
I bit my lip out of nervous habit and sneakily made my way to the car. He was so immersed in his phone that he barely looked anywhere else. Neither did he notice me when I stood right next to his window. I tried to get a look inside just as he raised his head and saw me.
YOU ARE READING
Our Shattered Marriage (ON HOLD)
SpiritualAs young girls, we dream of finding the perfect husband. Maybe our definition of 'perfect' is twisted. Because that's what I thought my husband was until I found out the truth. Until I knew the real reason why he married me. Our marriage is fallin...