Against The Tide (Formerly Two Tribes)

45: From Darkness To Dawn

"You're right," Jameel replied. "I really don't want to do this, but at this point, I also think that would be best for the both of us. This chaos isn't worth it."

Najah clutched her trembling hands tightly as if trying to hold on to the fragments of the tiniest hope left in her heart. Despite the pain and disappointment, Najah still wanted to remain married to him. She could not imagine her life without him. In a short period, she had become so used to him. He had become her family. It was unfortunate that he did not feel the same way about her.

"Najah, I-"

A wave of nausea suddenly crashed upon Najah. A bead of cold sweat formed on her forehead, and an unsettling sensation crawled up her throat, like an unwelcome guest overstaying its welcome.

"Najah," Jameel gently rested his hand upon her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

She dismissed his hand from her shoulder with a shrug. "I'm fine. What were you going to say?"

"I think you're tired, you sh-"

"I'm not. Just tell me what you have to say."

"When I get back from the masjid." Jameel didn't wait for Najah's reply before walking out of the room.

Immediately he left the room, the acidic taste of bile that lingered at the back of Najah's tongue, caused her to wince in revulsion.

In a futile attempt to subdue the churning sensation within, she clasped her stomach tightly and fought against the urge to expel its contents.

Similar to an overpowering torrential storm, the persistent pressure continued to surge through her, causing great turmoil and unease.

As the seconds stretched on, seemingly lasting an eternity, her body continued to betray her, exacerbating her challenging situation. She rose from her position and swiftly made her way toward the bathroom just in time before her body surrendered to the inevitable.

A retching sound reverberated through the room as she threw up the content of her stomach. A surge of relief swept over her afterwards, but the vile expulsion left her trembling; utterly drained from the physical and emotional toll.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Najah turned on the faucet and washed her mouth and face.

She waited for the waves of nausea to recede before proceeding to clean up the mess she had made.

Najah returned to her bedroom; her mind filled with a flurry of swirling thoughts and emotions. She nervously gnawed at her lower lip, as she began to paint vivid images of what the future could hold. Perhaps it was just a figment of her imagination. The weight of uncertainty pressed down her shoulders.

Her eyes roamed the room eventually settling on the small calendar that hung on the wall. Her heart began to pound faster in her chest as she approached it.

Slowly, she traced her fingers along the days, meticulously tallying the weeks since her previous menstrual cycle. She had missed a month without even realizing it. She suddenly began to recall the subtle changes in her body-every twinge, discomfort, and flutter she had experienced in recent times.

The room seemed to close in on Najah, smothering her with its oppressive ambiance. Time seemed to come to a standstill as she wrestled with her emotions, unsure of what the future held for her. Tears prickled her eyes. The possibility of being pregnant represented a profound fork in the road, a crossroad that would determine the course of her life, but regardless of the outcome, she would gather the resilience to navigate the uncertain journey that lay ahead.

The sound of her phone's ringtone jolted her out of her reverie.

"Hajiya," she mumbled before accepting the call and putting the phone against her ear. "Hajiya, Assalamualaikum."