I gently run my fingers through Ahmed's soft brown hair that is resting on the pillow. His small stomach rises up and down in a steady rhythm, following his light snoring sounds which would have brought me peace on any night except this one.
I take a deep breath with him, the loneliness of the dark engulfing me. A stark contrast to the previous night when I had returned home in anger and exhaustion.
I hear a tapping on the window, slow but becoming more prominent. The wind is slowly picking up and the sobbing of the clouds are becoming louder. A car outside our small window moves slowly through the pavement, the tires passing with a whooshing sound. The empty wall across from us casts a moving shadow as the car drives in and out of the neighborhood.
The light gains control over the moving shadows, growing as large as half of the wall and then slowly shrinking back to a dull abyss. I look out the window and try to make out the stars above the cloudy sky, but the depression of the gloomy night sky leaves me and Ahmed in the dark and accompanied by the rain.
It was the same feeling on that day.
We had just gotten our nikkah done and were returning home in Hamza's car. The home that was soon to be ours, they said. I knew nothing about this man, except that he was a father. His son was a year old and Hamza's mom was taking care of him for a few days, so that we would have some privacy. I was a little shocked when I found out I had to care for a child, but I always had a love for children and babies.
Hamza slowed down the car in front of a house, which looked too large to be called a house. It was nothing I was used to; a small apartment with two rooms.
When we left the venue, it was drizzling, but it was now pouring outside and there was no umbrella inside the car. When I tucked a stray strand of my hair inside my gold scarf, my curled dark brown hair became stuck with the earring that poked out from the hijab. I tried pulling it out, but it wouldn't budge. As I was attempting to pull my hair follicles, the car came to a final stop. I stared out the foggy window at the house which was now hardly visible.
"Do you have an umbrella?" I asked, turning back to look at Hamza, but he was no longer on the driver's seat.
I looked out the window again and saw him rushing inside the house, but not before screaming, "Close the door!"
I looked down at my dress, then towards the door. I could no longer see Hamza's figure, assuming he was probably toasty inside his home while I was momentarily freezing.
I slammed the passenger door shut, and tried to ignore the heavy feeling of the lehenga weighing me down as I walked up the stairs to his apartment. With the last bit of strength left, I held onto both sides of the skirt and pulled it high above my waist, poking out the four-inch gold pencil heels my mother-in-law gifted me.
"Great. Perfect for walking up twenty marble steps," I grumbled to myself while slowly going up the wet stairs. "Could have spent some money on non-slip staircases rather than these heels."
Feeling a great surge of anger toward the heels, I took them off and held them in my hands, then continued walking up the million stairs.
The see-through red scarf that was pinned to the top of my hijab trailed behind me, collecting all the dirt and the rain. I was certain my face was drenched with the angry storm's tears. Or were they mine?
When I finally managed to close the door behind me, I was drenched in water. The droplets were spilling on the marble (go figure!) floor, leaving a huge puddle of muck.
The sharp warmth caused my cold feet to tingle upon the warmth of the heat inside the mansion.
"Why are you barefoot?" I glanced up to see Hamza fully dressed in his royal blue robe. "Look at all the dirt you brought into the house. You better clean that up," he ordered, and he left for another set of stairs that led to the bedrooms.
"Wait! My clothes are in my luggage," I yelled out to him, making him stop in his tracks. He turned around to give me a "what do you want me to do" look.
"It's in the car," I spoke in a louder voice.
"It's raining too hard to go back out," Hamza said with a moody tone.
"You can't expect me to stay drenched like this!" I pointed to my dress, still standing in front of the door, afraid to move an inch further in case it might create an even bigger mess for me to clean up.
"Wear this." He threw a shirt and a pair of pants that seemed to belong to him onto the couch near me. He turned on his heel, leaving me alone again in the unknown place.
I spent an hour taking the extravagant clothing off of me and stepping into his unfamiliar smell.
His clothes stunk of a strong scent. I couldn't quite place my finger on it. I walked into the bathroom and took the air freshener off the cupboard and sprayed it all over me in hopes that it would go away. After a couple minutes of smelling okay, the horrid odor came back. "Weed," I grunted to myself while making my way back to the front door.
My lips trembled slightly as I forced myself to accept that this was a man I had to spend my whole life with.
Ahmed suddenly grumbles in his sleep, sucking me out of my thoughts. He shifts in his sleep and tries to get comfortable on our bed. I rub his arm lightly and whisper soothing words to him.
A doorbell rings in my head, taking me back to the day after our nikkah.
"Assalamu Alaikum," I greeted, opening the door to see my mother-in-law holding a baby in her arms.
"Walaikum Assalam. Can you get the bag from the trunk? It has some of Ahmed's stuff in there." Her curly, aged hair popped out from her loose hijab and her beady eyes pointed towards the bottom of the twenty marble stairs.
I quickly went down the stairs and grabbed the first bag I saw from the trunk. I returned to the top of the steps where my mother-in-law was examining the house.
"What did you feed my child?"
"I gave him the cereal..." I paused right away when she whipped her head back at me. "It was the only thing left in the house." Unknowingly, I had given her an excuse. One which would haunt me for my entire life.
"Mother,'' I added, fidgeting with my legs crossed while looking down. I noticed right then that she walked into the house with her shoes on. And I had just mopped the whole house.
"At least you have some manners." She then sighed, dropping Ahmed onto the floor and pulling out her purse. Placing a credit card in my hand, she croaked, "How about we straighten this up. Go buy some stuff from the grocery."
My ears bled from her long list of very specific items from each store. My memory sucked as is, and my fingers couldn't type as fast as she blabbered. I decided to record her lecture which took about 4gb of space. No exaggeration.
"Should take about two hours," she added a nice little cherry on the top.
And I had to spend 4 hours listening to that audio on repeat whilst getting all the items. Since I didn't even know how to drive, I ended up carrying all the items by hand back to home, going up and down the steps to fetch each bag.
And I could finally delete that waste of space.
"SALWA!" She blasted into my ear. "What took you so long! I thought you ran away from home."
I just gave her a little laugh. Like I would have a choice.
I grabbed the grocery bags and placed them in the kitchen. Mariam, my mother-in-law, taught me how to prepare his breakfast step-by-step while I took down notes. Ahmed suddenly started to cry from his play area.
"Ahh-med, what's the matter? Did you have a little poo?" I blinked once, twice. Witnessing the sudden affection from my mother-in-law made me terrified. Was this the same person?
She picked up Ahmed and rubbed her nose with his, making him giggle. She turned him flat upside down and smelled his behind. "Oh gosh, you did a big fat one at it too!"
I stood there awkwardly, watching my mother-in-law. "Why are you just standing there? Honey, you have to work fast. As a woman--" I zoned myself out of another one of her lectures.
"Salwa? SALWA! I said to go bring me the diapers from the bag you brought from the trunk."
"Oh yes! Sorry mother." I quickly went to fetch the bag and brought it back to her in record time.
Mother-in-law had already laid Ahmed down on a blanket. "You peel the diapers from the side here... " she trailed off and revealed the big clump of brown. I turned my head away from the smell. This could be worse than the weed.
"Go get the baby wipes too. I can't be telling you to get everything. Salwa, you're a college student. Where is your common sense?"
"Oh sorry, mother. I will get it right away."
"Now look here carefully, this is going to be your work from now. Clean his bum perfectly like this." She made a point of slapping Ahmed's butt cheeks.
"Yes, mother."
"Yes, mother. Sorry, mother. Okay, mother. Is that all you can say?"
"Ah. No, mother."
She gave me a look like she was beyond done with me. Her eyes suddenly glinted up suspiciously. I had a feeling this wasn't going anywhere good, so I tried to avoid her gaze as she picked up Ahmed and came closer to me.
She attempted to hand me Ahmed, but he kept resisting. Mother-in-law crouched down slightly to whisper into my ear, "I bet it was your first time seeing it."
"Excuse me?!" I quickly pulled away from her, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Oh hush you. Nothing to be so flustered about." She looked down at her watch. "I should get going now."
"Wait, mother, Are you leaving Ahmed here?"
"Of course. He is all yours now." She slapped his butt again. She certainly had an obsession with that.
"But wait! What should I feed him?" So many thoughts ran through my head. How was I supposed to take care of a baby that wouldn't even come to me?
She clicked her tongue. "Oh gosh, how could I forget that," she gasped. "It's pretty simple. Obviously you have to be likable, which you need to work on. For now, start by holding him in your arms, like this." She motioned to how she was holding Ahmed in her arms, placing one hand behind his neck to keep it steady.
I hesitantly held up my arms, shaking slightly. I took a deep breath and tried to control my hands, making a fist and reaching out my arms again with open palms.
With a smile, I looked at Ahmed. "Hey Ahmed, come here," I cooed and wiggled my fingers in his direction. I brought my hands close to his sides and as soon as I got a good hold on him, he squirmed out of it and wrapped his arms around mother-in-law's neck.
"Oh, forget it. He will get used to your company in no time. Let me show you how to formulate his milk." She took out all the stuff from the bag with one arm while carrying Ahmed in the other. Step-by-step she explained while me and Ahmed silently watched.
He didn't cry like other babies. At least I thought so.
Mother passed me the finished formulated milk. I took it from her hesitantly and stood there for her next instructions.
"WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?!" I flinched from her scream, losing grip of the bottle. I watched as the bottle slowly crashed onto the floor and the milk splattered all over mother-in-law's shoes.
In terror, I couldn't move an inch. My hand continued to shake. I grabbed my other wrist so tightly, that I felt the blood stop rushing. I just stood there, waiting for another lecture. Surprisingly she hadn't said a word, which was even more frightening.
My eyes were looking down at the floor. Mother's contaminated feet suddenly moved away from me. When I looked up, she had left a crying Ahmed on the sofa. She was already outside the front of the door and walking down the steps. I hurried over to the sofa and picked up Ahmed who struggled against my hold, continuing to sob. I ran my hand continuously up and down his back, attempting to calm him.
He screamed louder and fought my arm. "Shhh," I murmured into his ear. "I'll make your milk again."
I rocked him in my arm as I cleaned the milk off the floor as well as the trail Mother left behind with her muddy shoes. By the fifth attempt, I managed to finish making the formula. I poured a small drop on my hand to make sure it was warm enough. I gave it a little shake before positioning it into his wailing mouth.
After some time, Ahmed fell asleep while drinking, the bottle slipping from his mouth. I placed it back on the table and looked outside. It was way past midnight. The food that my mother-in-law cooked had probably turned cold and Hamza was still nowhere to be seen. I had called him several times but the call never went through.
The doorbell rang loudly, interrupting Ahmed from his sleep. He began wailing again, so I quickly picked him up and rocked him against my chest.
Someone began slamming on the door and ringing the doorbell continuously. "Salwa, are you there? It's Hamza, open the door!"
"Wait! I'm coming!" I said loudly, but he still continued to slam. "I said I'm coming!" The level of my own voice gave me a shock.
I opened the door, revealing his unbuttoned shirt and his loose tie. He let out a huge smoke, right in my face. "Took too long."
"You woke Ahmed up," I said with grit teeth, showing him the wailing child. He rolled his eyes as if he didn't care and shoved past me to take off his shoes.
"I have some work to do," Hamza grumbled as he headed for the stairs.
"At least eat something before you go up. Your mother came over and cooked this for you." I pointed to the containers full of food that were still sitting on top of the dinner table.
He glanced at the cold food. "I drank with the co-workers. I'm not hungry."
"At least look at Ahmed." Ahmed, who was not fully awake, was trying to escape from my arms to go to Hamza. Hamza stared right into my eyes. Feeling nervous, I looked at the wall right behind him.
He began staggering over to me slowly, swaying side to side. I tightened my grip on Ahmed and bit my lip. He grabbed onto my chin and made me face his way. As he inched closer, my heart beat faster. Ahmed tried to wrap one of his arms around Hamza.
"Baa," Ahmed peeped, sniffling in his cry, stopping when Hamza came near. I averted my eyes towards Ahmed, feeling Hamza's intense gaze.
Hamza's hand moved away from my chin to my hair. He pulled a lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. "I didn't notice how cute you were before," he slurred and squished my cheeks, so I pouted like a fish.
"I guess it's not so bad to have a little wife," he said, before landing a hard kiss on my lips, making me lose my balance and weaken my legs. I fell back on the sofa with Ahmed in my arms. In a state of shock, I didn't know what to do. Hamza took the opportunity to lower himself onto me and continued to land sloppy kisses to my lips. The taste of bitterness and smoke spread throughout my mouth.
Ahmed, stuck between the two of us, began to scream. I protested and hit Hamza's chest to get him away from me and Ahmed. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill.
Hamza suddenly went limp against my body. I pushed him off weakly to land sprawled onto the marble floor. I ran my fingers through Ahmed's hair protectively as warm tears kept falling onto my lap.
I shakily stood up from the couch, unable to forget the feeling of his disgusting lips against mine and the taste of the alcohol and smoke.
I blink as small tear droplets fall onto Ahmed's cheeks. His flinching brings me back from my momentary stillness, lost in the past. I wipe away the tears as my hands shake from fear.
I move my tongue around my mouth, reminiscing the taste that I had longed to forget. All those months I was stuck inside the lonely marbled home with no one there to save me from it all except Allah SWT. I kept my prayers close to my heart, kept my situations to myself, met everyone with a smile, tried my best to fit in...
I let out another uncontrollable weep. Hugging Ahmed close, I snuggle my face into his small warm body.
A sudden beam of light spills through the open blinds. The lights from a car's shadow dances over us while it travels through our little town. The ray dims when it drives onwards, the shadow leaves with the fragments of my distressing thoughts, reminding myself that I, too, need my lingering shadow to move on.