Mending Broken Hearts

40a. Formidable Love

Every conversation since the night outside Omar's lab should have prepared me for this moment. The walls that I was so good at putting up should have come up preventing the hurt, but when it came to Omar they never had come up in the past. Why would they now?

"I know. I'll never be good enough for her. That's just something I'll have to live with,' I told my friend. But she simply raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you have to be good enough for her?"

Because you were, I silently answered. 

"She is Omar's mother. Deep down I know he wants her approval, and she will never give it because I will never be you."

Noor's expression changed as quickly as I regretted articulating my thoughts. "I am sorry..." I started to say when she reached out and squeezed my hand.

"You're right, Madi," she replied softly. "You will never be me. I was merely a fleeting presence in Omar's life - nothing more than a passing blip. You are different. You are his wife - the one he gazes at as if he'll flip the whole world over just to see you smile, and speaks of as if the very air he breathes depends upon your existence."

I had no idea what to say, except for whispering to myself, "I am Omar's wife." A label put on me just that morning by an insignificant man, was now the band aid I sought for wounds inflicted by words.

"I know his mother approved of me," Noor was saying when I looked her again, "and maybe we would have had a decent marriage if we had gotten together. But you and him - " she paused, before her voice dipped.

"Gosh Madi, you two are magic together."

Magic? Isn't that exactly the word I would use for the last hour I had spent in his presence? From the way his arms became my sanctuary the moment I stood in front of him, to the warm embrace of his sweet smoky cedarwood scent that wrapped me in comfort, and the lingering touch that my skin still longed for, every moment had been enchantingly perfect.

"I can be no one but myself. Aunty will just have to accept that," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

Though, the pride in Noor's voice elevated my spirits even further. "That's my girl," she said. "And you will have to accept that no matter what someone says, you are a part of that family. So act like it. Own your place and demand your rights."

She opened her purse and took out that crystal and diamond necklace. "You can choose to wear this, or not. But just know that this never belonged to me. It was bought for Omar's wife," she smiled, and placed it in my palm.

"It was bought for you."

As the sun approached the horizon, its fading rays embraced the meticulously arranged crystals and diamonds embedded in lustrous white gold. Despite everything, I found myself scrutinizing the intricate jewelry set.

It really was stunning with exquisite craftsmanship.

It was also nothing that I could ever have afforded on my own.

*******

Necklace or not, we still had a Rukhsati/Reception to get to. Noor was busy texting as I weaved in and out of Chicago's evening traffic. Luckily, it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated which was a relief because my own phone, conveniently left in the car while I gave in to temptations, hadn't stopped ringing either.

"Fifteen minutes, Maliha," I told my agitated sister. "I got late at work."

That was the truth, originally at least, but Maliha was quick to see right through it. "Whatever. I know what delayed you. I got married once too."