Primed For Guilt

the day he left

'Are you up yet?', his voice echoed in my voice. I woke up with no one there.

I ran to the bathroom, thinking he might be taking a shower there. 

'Zain?', there was no answer. He might be in the kitchen!

I ran downstairs to find him. His face being distant in my mind. His brown eyes and chocolate brown unruly hair, complementing his tan skin. I sprinted down stairs wondering what I would do when I finally saw him. Give him a little hug. maybe a kiss on the cheek.

As I sprinted downstairs my eyes laid upon our wedding picture. marriage is hard, especially when its arranged. But Zain made it seem so easy.  I was only 19 while he was two years older. Our love was so young yet so pure. I remember the times when we  would have deep conversations late at night. his smile. his smell. All a distant memory in my head.

I went downstairs to find everyone in white. How could I forget? he wasn't there anymore. My cries left unheard, my problems left untold.

'you destroyed my only son!', Aunty Nasreen shouted at me.

'get this manhoos away from me!'. The same lady shouted who once danced her heart out at my wedding.

'Don't worry Zoya , at least we have each other', I heard Zain's voice. He'd console me every time I fell down he'd life me high. High above the sky with no limit. He would always support me and go against his mothers wishes. He was the greenery that would come after Autumn. The hope nature had that something better was coming ahead. But now my hope was gone...

My mother rushed to me and put my scarf on my head. I hugged her with a single tear rolling down from my eye. She took me to the room and gave a hostile look  to Aunty Nasreen, but didn't say anything in my defence. Zain made me complete and without him I was nothing. Was this all part of Gods plan? I'd wonder to myself sometimes. Did Zain miss me as much as I missed him?

'Don't worry Zoya , I will never shatter your dreams. Take my word for it', he said the first time his family came to my house for my hand in marriage. He held my trembling hand and made me feel exceptional. Not in a millions years would I think of marrying him or anyone this young. But he made me feel like it was the best and and worst decision I had ever made.

He was always afraid that my career would be affected from our early marriage. I'd go straight home from med school to our little apartment in Karachi. It had only one room suitable for a young couple. I remember how I'd try to make desi food in our compact kitchen. I wasn't the best cook but he'd always pretend he loved my food even when I put salt instead of sugar. 

 I would always come home before him and look at the clock, taking longer than usual. He lend a hand at his father's business of exporting cotton. But he would always manage to get me a white rose when he came back from work. My it only lasted for eighteen months, to be exact. After which he left me all alone.

I came back home in Peshawar as soon as he passed away. I refused to continue going to med school because of the trauma I had to face. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I didn't have any purpose to smile. Zain was my only reason, and without him, I felt empty.

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