Against The Tide (Formerly Two Tribes)

78: The Blame Game

"I called him yesterday," Mrs. Amina informed. "He seems equally angry."

"What?" Afrah sprang up, slamming her feet on the floor, like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why did you call him? Just why?" She shrieked. The fact that Jameel was going to feel important provoked her. "Why didn't you tell me first?" Now, Afrah felt even more betrayed. Her mother hadn't just taken Jameel's side but also initiated a conversation with him.

"Because I wanted to know what was going on."

"Still!" Afrah cried. "You should have at least told me before doing that. Now, he's going to feel like I called you to beg him on my behalf. This is so embarrassing and humiliating!"

"There's nothing embarrassing about me calling him," Mrs. Amina replied gently. "I didn't call him to take sides or anything like that. I simply wanted to know what was going on."

Taking a deep breath to keep her anger at bay, Afrah spoke; "Fine. What did he say? Did he tell you why he's acting like a stranger in his own home?"

"He didn't really say anything. He sounded troubled...withdrawn. He only told me that things haven't been easy between you two and..."

"And what, mum?" Afrah probed. "What did he say?"

"That was it," she replied. "I want to see the both of you today. I have already spoken to him about it. I'll be expecting you two."

"Mum," Afrah swallowed. "Please don't say anything about this to Dad. I don't want him involved."

"I will try to solve this myself and if it's not possible, I'm afraid I'd have to involve him." With that said, Mrs. Amina ended the call.

"He definitely said something more to her," Afrah mumbled. She knew her mother too well. What surprised her was how she was siding with Jameel especially since she didn't particularly like him. What had changed?

Still engrossed in her thoughts, the door creaked open and Jameel walked in, dressed in a sky blue kaftan.

Afrah's breath caught in her throat. Despite the anger she felt in her heart for him, she couldn't help but admire how handsome he looked in that sky blue kaftan. It gave him a deceptive look of innocence.

A pang of longing surged through her. Imaginary scenarios flickered in her mind—standing on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and apologizing for every wrong thing she had done to him. Jameel, in her imaginary world, would also apologize and kiss her, then they would go back to how they used to be.

But the fantasy crumbled as soon as Jameel spoke. "How is Fawaaz?"

The question and he way he avoided her gaze ripped off the fragile hope that had flickered within Afrah. It was a reminder of how damaged their relationship was. One thing was crystal clear to Afrah—Jameel was not interested in reconciliation. He did not care about her anymore. "He is fine," she managed to reply, suppressing the urge to cry.  Lashing out wouldn't solve anything.

Jameel, his back now on her, walked towards their son's crib.

With tears in her eyes, Afrah watched as he crouched beside their son's crib; his posture radiating tenderness she hadn't witnessed weeks. He mumbled silent Duas for Fawaaz, then leaned in to kiss his forehead before standing upright.

Quickly, Afrah wiped her tears away before Jameel would see and feel triumphant over her.

"I spoke to your mother," Jameel began, still not maintaining eye contact.

'Your mother'. Not 'mum'. The disrespect!

"She wants to see us today," he finished; his voice flat. "I'm ready. I will be waiting for you in the car."