Flawed Perfection

Chapter Twenty-three: Wreckage

Aisha Ahmad Makama knew the aftermath of swallowing drugs well enough, she knew the high of it, the null feeling that accompanied it, she was well acquainted with the loud pain that set in after the effect was gone and the need to swallow more. That was the beauty of those pills, the spaces between the pangs- the little high, the numb weight it brought.

And that was everything.

She knew all the reasons that had pushed her to taking those sickening pills, she knew the more that made her quit. Yet just staring at a man, just knowing a single chance of both loving and hanging around him a single second more was about to fade made her want to run back to those pills more than she'd ever wanted to. At the same time, Aisha had never felt the need to scratch her past so bad, she wanted to take out the part where she ever did drugs, the part where she enrolled into the same school as Lamir, the part where Baba became poor. Aisha wanted to undo Grey. Hell, she wanted to undo everything in her life.

Aisha wanted to be the Aisha Ahmad Makama the Kallamu family wanted for their son; the modest girl who couldn't share eye contact with people out of shyness, the one who had a stellar record in ducking her head but that Aisha never existed to begin with and that was why Abdullah Umar Kallamu would let her go even if it would be the death of her.

She walked back into the living room with a paper and a pen. She never really needed to hear the words from Abdullah, he wouldn't need to say it and hear himself as he did, all he needed to do was write and pass it to her, all she needed to do was fold it and never take a glance at it. She'd just beg for one last ride and take Gwaggo's paper to her.

After all, that was the plan. Everything else was confusion. Her dream was about to come true. She would be a divorced woman before tomorrow and life would go on this single time!

Gwaggo and Baba wouldn't have their way!

That sounded like victory, it just felt wrong as heck.

"Here." Aisha dropped the paper on Abdullah's straight legs where he sat on the cold marble floor.

Her eyes were clouded by so much tears it almost blinded her but it was nothing compared to the darkness she found in Abdullah's eyes when he looked up at her, he looked like Aisha was about to strip him off his mind and this time it was not in a good way, he looked like he was wondering how brutal a girl could be. Tonight, Abdullah Umar Kallamu had lost the rigidity that made him up.

He was a different person, he was all broken and clueless, Aisha wondered which among the discovery or loss did that to him. For a moment, it felt like she had just brainwashed him of the things he had planned out for the next day, as if he couldn't recognize himself anymore.

Abdullah took the paper from her, he stared at it and the whole time his heart broke, repeatedly, over and over again.

Aisha stared at the paper, knowing it would officially seal the deal. It was the end of it all. The end of her marriage and most definitely her life. Yet, it was the best for her.

Abdullah stared between her eyes and the pen like he was all stranded, lost and bursted at the same time.

Weakly, he took it from her and something crashed within Aisha. She knew she'd lost sight of where she was going long ago but she'd never felt that clueless and deserted.

She never disliked a promise as much as Abdullah's own. How could a man promise to let his wife go anytime she really wanted him to? How could a sane wife ask a kind husband to let her go to begin with?

Abdullah might go on with it and still hate her for it. But who was Aisha Ahmad Makama kidding? She wanted to use a knife to stab right through her heart herself.