Esha and Isa

Flashback 3

A/N: Not properly edited.

Six years ago - Some good news and some bad news

Something wasn't right. I'd phoned my mum and said I was coming around but she told me not to. That was the first time she'd told me not to come to visit, especially because my visits were rare these days. Just before my wedding, I started a PGCE course which was actually Isa's idea. I was kind of clueless as to where my career was heading and he said it was good to have a teaching qualification and it was a good option if I didn't know what to do. At first I said wasn't too sure about it because I wasn't a huge fan of children, except my niece, Farah. I was unsure before applying because Farah hadn't even been born yet. My love for her comforted me to feel that children weren't too bad.

I'd been married for five months and I was living with Isa in his two bedroom apartment. Well, it was ours now. It took this long for us to get used to each other and our awkward phase was finally dying out. At first, I thought Isa was bold and that he'd be comfortable getting to know me further after marriage. I was sure about from our wedding day when he suddenly kissed me. But then, I was surprised to find it was the other way around. He was actually incredibly shy. I didn't understand until later why this was.

"You're so quiet," I said one day, after having talked about nonsense for a long time.

"It's good to be quiet. Silence is salvation."

"But I'm your wife! You're supposed to talk to me," I said frowning at him.

"That's exactly it." His eyes became softer as he looked at me, a small shy smile on his lips. "You're my wife. You. I can't get my head around it." I didn't know whether to be offended or flattered. I gave a questioning look.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't believe I'm admitting this but you'll find out one day anyway. Remember when I asked what your hair was like under your hijab?" He glanced away in embarrassment and I did the same. Surely I was the one who should have been embarrassed for my reply was such a stupid one. "That was to start a conversation because I may have... Erm... Had like, the teeniest crush on you..." My eyes widened in shock.

"Really? You had a crush on me back in school? Are you serious? Me?"

"Well, you were too loud and giggly for your own good." The sudden high wore off a little when he said I was loud and giggly. That's not a compliment for someone who strives to be modest.

"I was not! Okay, maybe a little bit when I was with my friends."

"And you were always with your friends therefore you were always loud and giggly."

"I didn't mean to be like that. I mean, don't think I was doing it for attention or anything. I did try to be modest but it was so much fun with my friends." I looked away, recalling all my crazy friends' faces. I missed them.

"I know that. That's why I preferred you over those other girls who were loud and crazy for attention. Their eyes always darted around to see who was looking at them but you were so clearly absorbed in your little fun bubble and it was cute."

"I'm not that loud anymore, am I?" I asked, curiously.

"Not outside the house I've noticed, thankfully. I don't want my wife to attract other men's attention. But sometimes I get an earache at home," Isa replied with a smile, rubbing his ear.

"Fine! I won't talk then!"

"Ha! We'll see how long that will last." It didn't last long at all. He told me later that he was glad I'd grown up and matured since school days. He said he began to fall in love with my 'bubbly' personality indoors which he loved to come home to. Before I had the chance to feel awkward thinking I'd have to say it back, Isa added that he wouldn't want a wife who made heads turn in their direction because of the racket she was making. He turned back to his laptop after that, not giving me a chance to confess my feelings which I was glad about. I knew I loved him but I had trouble saying those kinds of things. I found it cheesy. Instead I got lost in my thoughts and wondered if Isa would have liked me if we I was the same girl as I was in school. Probably not.