Him & His Muslimah

48

Zaib/Zoya

The next few days, Zoya wrestled her mind, thinking of possible ways to support her family in this time of crisis. She occasionally spun her swivel chair around, the lidless highlighter in her grasp left to dry. She dropped her head onto the table, frustratedly pulling on her hair.

It was early afternoon; Zaib had bustled off to attend an emergency meeting. She returned from an early morning lecture when her phone chimed up, the label reading, Mom II.

"Zoya, how are you doing sweetheart?" Zaib's mother's chirpy voice emerged through the speaker whom almost freaked Zoya out as she bellowed away from the phone. Quickly redeeming herself, she answered.

"Alhamdulillah, what about you mom?" The woman on the other side blissfully replied. "Is Zaib too annoying to live with? You can visit us whenever Zoya," the female teasingly chuckled and Zoya only smiled, embarrassed.

"Having him around is far from annoying. I'm lucky. He's doing everything to make me feel unburdened about university and marriage. In comparison, I've done nothing for him," she felt her throat tighten, interrupting the words left in her throat and suddenly felt overwhelmed. She didn't even realize how much she missed him until she was talking about it to someone else.

"Zoya, stop thinking like that. You're working for a better future and he's there supporting you for it. That's what marriage is, a bond of support and love." Zoya felt herself choke again as a tear ran down her cheek.

"What's wrong? Did you both fight?" His mother emitted with discontent. Zoya quivered at the idea of fighting him. She couldn't even imagine it.

"No! Of course not."

The past few days were long and busy. She had found herself drained as fresh homework kept piling up. The new semester had just started and yet the professors were already breathing down their necks, emerging with every possible reason to occupy the students. Along with this, she couldn't stop fretting over the things weighing down her chest about her family.

The whole situation had taken a toll on her mentally and physically. Her anxiety caused her nausea which led to a loss of appetite. Sleeping had become a luxury she got reduced amounts of due to her dynamic state of mind.

Zaib was..amazing, as always. He never uttered an aggrieved complaint about it but Zoya felt the loss of connection. She missed him despite being a few footsteps away from him. She observed the unsaid things he did for her.

He would routinely complete his work-related business on the desk parallel to her before kissing her forehead lightly and leaving the study. Then silently, he would tiptoe back, bringing her a mug of hot chocolate and then reluctantly exit to make a phone call. In the evening, she'd finally retire from the study but he'd have to leave to an appointment.

This unfamiliar routine continued for the past week and they could only have quality time once she made it to the bed where they would exchange conversation about their different set of afternoons. Yesterday, she felt her heart tug in longing as he talked about the new project he managed to take up, his eyes brimming in ecstasy. He described the joy flooding him when he heard the news and Zaib said he was so excited, that he almost returned home to break the news to her. He, however, decided against it when he realized she was working on an assignment.

It made her conscience-stricken.

She spent the night staring at his sleeping face, counting the times his heart drummed against his chest until it lolled her to sleep.

"Zoya?" The voice from the phone smacked her back to reality- she cursed herself for worrying his poor mother. "I'm sorry mom, I just have a lot on my mind." His mother sighed and then spoke again.