Our Shattered Marriage (ON HOLD)

Chapter 3

NEHA
I was cleaning the dishes when the doorbell rang. Twisting back, I called out, "Look who it is, Musa!"

I heard a grumble and then the video game's dum-dum paused. There was a thrilled shriek that had me getting a little suspicious. There was only one person Musa could get excited to see.

"Mummy!" he hollered, after a whole lot of giggling and talking. "It's Chachu! Should I take him to the drawing-room?"

Exactly how I feared then.

I heard the protesting voice of my brother-in-law but didn't fully comprehend what he was saying. Just that Musa seemed excited after so long. His laugh was like music to my ears.

I drew a scarf over my head, draping it over my face. "No, it's okay. Bring him here."

And by here, I meant the lounge. Our house was structured in a way that the kitchen was based at the very end of the living room, a dining table right outside the marble countertops. Musa was suggesting the drawing-room because it was located away from here.

He took it upon himself to ensure no man ever came near me, or see me without my niqab. His protectiveness never ceased to make me smile.

I turned back to work, washing the last of the dishes and placing it on a rack to dry off. Next, I wiped my soapy hands when I heard the cheerful way my son talked.

"Chachu! You haven't seen our house as yet, right?"

"No, buddy," came the reply. "I'm sure you'll show me around though. Let me talk to your Daddy first, okay?"

I assumed Musa nodded. I just stood like a dumb fool, pretending to work, all the while just not wanting to turn back and have yet another short, awkward conversation. Not that there would be much we'd say.

Even though my family wasn't religious, Ramees's was. Well, sort of. But I couldn't remember a single time Rafee, Ramees's brother, had tried to talk to me. Perhaps we'd exchanged a greeting somewhere along the years. Whatever it was, I was grateful for space.

"Mummy!" Musa called. "Should I call Dad?"

That's when I had to turn around. I focused solely on my son as I said, "No, Musa. Get Chachu to sit down and serve him some refreshments from the fridge. I'll go get your Dad."

He agreed enthusiastically, leading Rafee to the sofas, hand-in-hand, continuing where their conversation had left off.

I climbed up the stairs, dread curling in the pits of my belly. I contemplated knocking our bedroom door but decided against it. Coming to a halt immediately. Ramees was on his phone again and my suspicion transformed into reality.

"This again?" Ramees sounded annoyed as he slid his phone into his pocket, his eyes telling a completely different story. He was caught off-guard. And he was making a poor attempt at hiding it. "Was yesterday not enough? I've told you to stop coming at me like this. Hello? Can you hear me?"

I stood like a statue, wondering if I should let anger get the best of me. Wondering if the floodtide of rage bubbling inside me was justified. It was pretty obvious he was having an affair. I just didn't get why that disappointed me.

What else had I expected? It had been this way for quite some time and anyone could draw this conclusion.

"Your brother is downstairs waiting for you," I simply stated.

He sighed, irritated, rising from the chair and walking out. I locked the door and cried to myself for untimed hours.