His body ached.
His head was throbbing.
He felt heavy.
He wasn't able to move. He rolled on his stomach and his hoarse voice muffled against the pillow, "Sammy---"
There was stillness. Quietness.
His eyebrows knotted and he rubbed his sore nose against the softness of the pillow. One eyelid lifted and he scanned his surroundings. The apartment was awfully silent. His mouth opened to call out his wife but immediately he clamped it shut as realization dawned.
She left him.
He was alone. All alone.
A groan left his lips and he buried his face in the pillow. It had been a day since she left but it was an improbable reality. Never in their decade old marriage had Samreen left him when she was angry. They had always been able to resolve their issues. His hands pressing on the mattress, he pushed himself off the pillow and sitting up.
Clumsily walking on quaking legs, he made his way in the toilet. Splashing icy cold water on his face, he heaved and glanced up at the mirror above the sink. The knuckles turned white as they gripped the edge of the sink tightly.
The blood on his face had dried with red patches around his nose and lips. His face had turned black and blue. He couldn't go to work like this. He had to take a couple of days off until his face was somewhat presentable.
Shutting his eyes, he stepped in the shower and let the warmth of the water ease the throbbing muscles of his body. Time passed and he stood under the shower unable to move. His heart softened under the hot water and he did what he had not done for a long time. He performed his ghusl (purity bath in Islam).
Switching off the shower, his mouth opened to call out to her again for a towel. But his lips sealed again. She wasn't there anymore to give him a towel. His chest rose and fell in agitation and went out to grab a towel himself.
Once dressed, he stood in front of his Lord facing the Qiblah (direction of Grand Mosque in Makkah) and prayed the delayed Fajr prayer. He was ashamed he was praying the Fajr prayer after many days and that too not on time.
Crossed legged sitting on the prayer mat after the prayer, he dwelled upon the last few months. What had gotten into him? How had he let this go out of hand so much? Why didn't Sammy scream at him and make him stop? But he couldn't blame her, he ignored her tantrums every time she expressed her frustration.
He was ashamed. Deeply ashamed.
How will he face Nouman again? He never meant to do what happened yesterday. His mind had been clouded with a lustful drive. He had never thought of Aileen in such a light before and he would never do in future he knew that well.
But most of all, how will he apologize to his wife? His eyes wandered to the prayer mat's intricate design of the Oriental embroidery. He would make himself worthy of her. He would change for her.
Her words haunted back, "Did you once think that Allah is watching? He is the Al-Basir – the all-seeing. Your sinful act is not hidden from Him. Have some fear Faraz. Fear of Allah."
He had to change for himself. He had to repent to Allah. Would Allah forgive him? Deep down, he accepted this was zina (fornication) and he had been indulging in sin after sin. But yes, Allah would forgive him. He was Al-Ghafoor (the great forgiver) and other words of his wife flashed back how she used to read out loud the meaning of the Quran verses at the start of their marriage...
And seek forgiveness of Allah . Indeed, Allah is ever Forgiving and Merciful [4:106]
And whoever does a wrong or wrongs himself but then seeks forgiveness of Allah will find Allah Forgiving and Merciful [4:110]
On wobbly legs, he stood and took hold of the Quran from the bookshelf in the living room. As he opened it, tears fell on the paper as remembrance came back. It was Samreen who encouraged him to recite as he had never bothered to recite after he completed his Quran recitation as a young boy. But after their marriage, Samreen had been adamant to help him strengthen his Emaan (faith). She would sit with him for half an hour daily and together they completed the recitation of the Quran. Then she had started reading out loud the meaning of the surahs (chapters) one by one and he was intrigued by it eventually making him steadfast in his religious duties that he was a five times praying Muslim until ... until...
Another tear trickled down his nose.
She had been his strength. His supporting pillar. She had aided him become a better human being and even more importantly a devoted Muslim but what did he do in return.
An emotional lump was forming in his throat and his Adam's apple moved vigorously as he tried to swallow it.
He was going to work hard to please his Lord and then his wife.
He would bring her back where her rightful place was. Beside him.
****
The first two days were torture. Immense agony. His body had been used to the excess masturbation and being in an arousing state. He was fighting a struggling battle. The two days he had taken days off so he that he could recover himself, these days were not going as he planned. He was working hard to go to masjid for every prayer. But it wasn't easy at all.
His body was in a cold sweat, his heart hammering powerfully under his ribs. His aroused state crying out loud for its release. He was trembling. To distract himself, he had avoided going back home instead staying near the masjid area. But his body wasn't ready to accept this sudden change at all. To soothe himself, he had delved in an old habit of his – smoking. The cigarette had eased the nerves for a while but it was a momentarily distraction.
During the second night, he had woken up in sweat and breathing heavily. His aroused state unable to be ignored or denied. Grabbing his phone with quivering hands he had clicked on the video and did the inevitable.
But later, when it was all over. He felt miserable. Regretful. Remorseful.
Why couldn't he stop himself?
Why was he easily going back to it?
His hands fisted on his sides as he lay on his back and shut his eyes in guilt.
At that moment, he hated himself so much.
****
"Mommy I wanna talk to Daddy," Liyaanah whined the umpteenth time.
"He is busy at work," Samreen answered methodically and her face without any trace of emotion. For the last 48 hours, Liyaanah had become very intolerable to manage. She hadn't forgotten that she didn't say good bye to her daddy and every few hours she asked her mother to speak to him.
"You are bad Mommy. I want Daddy." Liyaanah's lips quivered and tears welled up in her large brown eyes that were so much like Faraz's.
Sighing, Samreen set aside the plastic bowl from which she was feeding mashed rice to Salim. "Sweetie, daddy will call when he is free." Samreen tried to stay calm.
"You say this all the time." Liyaanah's tears eased down her cheeks.
Just then Aileen walked into the kitchen and smiled pleasingly at Liyaanah, "Who wants to watch Frozen on DVD?"
Liyaanah whirled around and said excitedly, "I do." Tears still lingering on her cheeks.
Aileen extended her hand, "Then c'mon Princess Liyaanah let's put it on. I am sure Safa and Marwa will join you too."
Samreen watched bleakly how her sister in law handled the situation right now. Liyaanah was distracted but for how long?
Rubbing her temple, she clutched the plastic bowl and pondered on the grave situation. She didn't know what to do? Make a firm decision or take one day at a time. Her children were clearly disturbed. They missed their home. In just two days, Liyaanah was bickering with her cousins. Daniyaal wasn't welcome in the girls' room and Salim was uncomfortable sleeping in the guest room bed with her. He missed his crib.
But every time, she thought of going back, horrific memories filled her mind but there were beautiful moments too of her past. The bittersweet moments.
****
A week had passed by and she was nowhere near to making a decision. One late evening, Nouman tapped on the guest room door where Samreen was putting the children to bed. She turned to see her worried brother standing at the doorway.
"Come to the living room when you are done making them sleep," he tilted his head towards the children.
She nodded and hurriedly put the children to bed to sleep. It took another half an hour to make them sleep. Once they were in a deep slumber, she tiptoed out of the room.
Nouman was sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand, "Do you want me to make you some?" he lifted his coffee mug in a suggestive manner.
Samreen shook her head and sank on the couch across him.
"Ammi has been asking me why you left home." Nouman said solemnly staring at the center table, he took another sip of his coffee.
"Y...you didn't tell her did you?" she stammered. Her parents were old and she really didn't want to stress them.
"No," he exhaled deeply, "But we can't hide it forever."
"Bhai I don't know what to do." She whispered her head bowed down.
"Did Faraz contact you?" he searched his sister's face, examining her for any emotions.
"My phone is switched off. I ... I just can't...." she couldn't go on.
"He called me. But I didn't answer it." Nouman quietly revealed.
Her head shot up but her lips sealed to probe further.
"Samreen take as much time as you want. This is your home. You have nothing to worry about. I am here to protect and look after you and the children." Nouman earnestly spoke, not leaving his eyes off his sister.
"Bhai you are doing enough as it is," tears brimmed in her eyes.
He stood up and lightly patted her head, "Be strong my dear and inshaa Allah this phase will pass away easily too."
She hoped so. She truly did.
Did he miss her?
Whenever she went to her parents place for the holiday he always went crazy, he might have never said so how much he missed her but the warm passionate welcome he would give her was a clear indication of it.
"I have missed you a lot," he breathed with every word his lips lingered on her neck. His kisses were getting passionate. How much he had missed kissing her and feeling her. It had been torture. Severe torture to live alone.
It hadn't even been an hour since she came back to Ireland but he just couldn't take his hands off her after being away from her for the last one month.
Her heart pounded frantically, "I missed you too," she whispered running her fingers on his naked muscular shoulders. He was warm. The heat was radiating from him reaching out to her. She needed this. She needed him.
His hands went to the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up with his fingers tracing her sides. She shivered. He felt her gasping against his lips. He knew she always loved it when he touched her there. She raised her arms and he peeled the shirt off her and over her head, tossing it on the ground. Even on this summer night, he could feel goose bumps on her skin as his fingers trailed her waist to her back. With trembling fingers, he tried to unclasp her bra.
"Get it off. I can't wait any longer."
She softly laughed into his mouth as he kissed her deeply again, "You need to have patience." Her hands running through his hair and he lowered his mouth to her neck again.
He playfully bit the side of her neck, "I have waited a month. 30 days Sammy girl. I can't wait any longer." Oh, the things he was doing to her. She wouldn't be able to stand much longer. Her legs were getting wobbly.
His lips hovered over her collarbone and again he tried to unfasten her bra, "You are not going for this long ever again." She shook her head in amusement. His lips lightly trailed over her collarbone.
She gently brushed his hands away and unclasped the bra herself, dropping it on the floor. Stepping back with a mischievous smile and twinkling eyes, she murmured, "Last one to the bed is a boo boo." A term their toddler daughter said when she was annoyed at someone.
She squealed and ran to the bedroom from the living room. He was close behind her. Before she could jump on the bed he grabbed her waist from behind and pulled her to him.
His tongue traced her ear, "You are a drug Sammy girl." His fingers were busy. Her breath hitched as she felt his fingers. This wasn't enough, he wanted more.
He turned her around and kissed her. There was an urgency now. Finally, feeling skin on skin. He pushed her on the bed, following her and hovering over her. With both hands on either side of her head to balance his weight, he lowered his head and lightly nipped her shoulder. He was breathing hard. Her pulse rose. His eyes shining with love and lust, "I can never get enough of you." His mouth seeking hers, "I will never get enough" he moaned kissing her right below her collarbone and his hands went to the waistband of her pants as his mouth lowered...
Curled on the sofa in the darkness, she let her misery finally take over her. Leaning her head on the backrest, tears trickled down. Lips quivered as she bit on them. She sniffled.
How did it come down to this?
They were living in separate homes now. She missed the nights spent in his arms, the lazy cold mornings cuddled in bed, his spontaneous kisses during the day, his habit of tickling her sides when she was cooking. She missed it all. Shutting her eyes, she let more tears fall. A sob left her trembling lips.
When was the last time he had kissed her?
When did he last seduce her with his eyes?
She had no recollection of the last time he had touched her intimately. It had been months since they slept together. It seemed they had become two strangers. The love had dissipated. They only were bearing each other for their children's sake. There was no affection, no play, and no companionship.
She buried her face in her hands and wept. Had she lost her sexuality after giving birth to three children? Was she not attractive?
Rubbing her face with her moistened hands, she sat up straight and looked out the window at the snowy dark winter night.
She wanted to be loved again.
She desired to be wanted.
She yearned to become his need again.
But...
She knew she was not enough for him anymore.
--------------------------------
Will they ever come together as one?
Until next time,
Assalam u alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu.