If only we had enough ability to gauge the future and take steps accordingly, how life would be so sorted and peaceful. This is exactly what Ayat was thinking at the moment. Seeing Ahid's world shattering in front of her wreaked her only pain and that too because of her both times only left her with agony and nothing else. She hated herself more than she could even fathom. She hated herself for not listening to Zeliha; she hated herself for being the cause of the pain inflicting upon Masooma and now she didn't even have enough strength to apologize. For how many things would she apologize? She was unforgivable...she thought.
It had been a few hours since Ahid's arrival and even though doctor said Masooma was making recovery, he still didn't budge and stood planted to his seat.
It took Zeliha a lot of coaxing and cajoling to finally force him to go home since he hadn't slept for two nights which was quite visible from his sleep-deprived face. Ayat offering to stay with Masooma instead of Zeliha was completely out of question so she didn't even bother to ask. She had done enough damage and didn't want to create any more problems in the Khan house.
The entire ride home was spent in absolute silence with no one spilling a single word. It was weird being in the same car as his and what was weirder was that she didn't feel uncomfortable at all, not to mention unsafe which she could now never feel around him; he was her guardian angel.
It was only after they had crossed threshold, the silence finally broke. "I am going in my room to take a nap, my head is pounding," said he, without looking at her which just tore at her heart. He was still angry at her...she thought, which killed her.
She licked her pale alabaster lips from where she was standing right beside him but no word came out and he didn't even wait, making his way towards the staircase.
"Umm... Do you need anything?" Squeezing her hands together, she asked abruptly making him halt in his stance.
"No thank you, I'm alright!" His voice was calm, a calm that smothers a havoc inside itself and it only created one inside her.
"Milk it is, then." Heaving a sigh of exasperation, she went towards the kitchen without waiting for his response just like he did.
It wasn't like she was trying to get back at him for that. She wasn't. Not at all. She knew better than behaving like a typical toxic spouse. Her only concern at the moment was to give him his space without leaving him entirely alone, not wanting to push him over the edge.
******
She put the glass of milk on the side of the plate of cookies and a bottle of pain-killers in a tray and picking it up made her way towards their room but found it empty. It didn't take her more than a second to realize where he was. At first she thought not to disturb him and let him be on his own for a while but then decided against it. He had been on his own for a really long time now. Now he needed someone to share his worries and pain with and as a wife it was both her responsibility and right to provide him the solace he craved for.
Perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes dug deep in the emptiness of the frame that held Masooma's picture secured safely in his manly hands. The sight was too much for her to behold and she tried drinking away her tears that were struggling hard to roll out. Keeping the tray aside, she strode towards him and sat down on her knees, putting her hand on one of his and could feel his chest rising at her touch. "I know sorry isn't enough to make up for the gravity of the atrocity I brought upon you and your family and I also know it's really unscrupulous of me to keep fixating on this but I really did not mean any harm. I just wanted to help, I swear."
"Sometimes we only want to help others but things don't always go the way we want them. So you don't need to apologize, I can understand the pain of being blamed for something you didn't do." His statement hit the chord so strong that she couldn't help but let the rush of emotions flow down in the form of tears. She was strong but in front of this man, she felt helpless. She had never cried in front of anyone but this man had the audacity and the capability to break that demeanor.
"I-I'm really sorry, Ahid. I'm really sorry." Her words came out in muffled sobs
As if her tattered voice just gave him an electric shock, he spun his head towards her and had just extended his hand to her face when he suddenly halted and again looked away which pained her more than ever. His acrimony was a sign that he was still angry at her and it was killing her.
"I've already told you, Ayat. It's okay. It wasn't your fault." But his voice, it was filled with tenderness defying his behavior.
"See? You hate me so much that you can't even look at me," she squealed.
"I can never hate you." He shook his head. "Never in a trillion years."
"Yes you do otherwise why wouldn't you look at me?"
"Because it reminds me of that night." He gulped his anger down as his nose flared and he clasped his hands tightly, trying not to break anything.
"I know, I know that you're indignant at me for putting you under that indictment, for sending you off to jail, for not listening to your side of the story, for saying those mean things to you. I-"
"That's not what I'm mad at," taking a deep long breath of vexation, he cut her off and she gaped at him dubiously. "I'm angry at myself because I couldn't get there in time, because I couldn't save you, because I couldn't protect you from the disgust this society shed at you, because I couldn't guard you from the ramification it brought to you. During the wedding, when I heard those women slander about you, it boiled my blood and when I came to know you it was none other than you they were talking about, I just wanted to do one thing and that is to shoot the heck out of them and seeing your face just brings all those things back to me and how I failed you and it just kills me damnit. It freaking kills me."
His countenance was contorted into expressions so stiff that she felt if she touched his face, it would break while each word mirrored the truth itself. What was this man? He hated himself for not doing enough for her and not her for her accusations? She thought people like him only existed in stories and sappy romantic old bollywood movies but here this man was, disrupting her entire belief system.
Slightly shaking, she clasped her hands at the sides of his neck as she tried wheedling him "You, Ahid Khan, are my husband and you did protect me. You got there before the worst could happen" but he shook his head "No, I didn't."
"Yes, yes, you did. Even if in people's eye you couldn't, you saved me from severe damage and who gives a hoot about people anyway and to be really honest, hadn't they treated me like literal shit, I wouldn't have been able to become who I am today, I wouldn't have been as much strong as I am today. And if it weren't for you, who knows if I would even be alive today, huh? So you better not tell me that you didn't do all you could next time because you freaking did and if you depreciate yourself one more time, I swear, I'm gonna kick you in places where it would hurt most and I'm not even kidding."
He gaped at her in utter surprise of the bombshell speech she had just made which was then soon followed by a heart-full laugh.
"What? I'm seriously not kidding, you imbecile," offended, she countered.
"No, it's not that. I just got reminded of our fights."
"O yeah! That! We used to be so stupid, no?"
"Well, I wasn't, can't say anything about you."
"HA! HA! Very funny." She replied sarcastically.
"Oh so you actually did google the meaning of sarcasm."
"What the hell, dude? What are you, an encyclopedia? Remembering things that happened eons ago!"
"The fact that you still know about it is the proof that you remember it, too," he snickered.
"Only because you brought it up otherwise I don't keep unimportant things in my memory you know."
"Obviously, we have to stash things according to storage, no?"
She haw-ed with flared nose and squeezed eyes.
"You're not funny, you know that, right?"
"Well that's a white lie and even you know that."
For a few seconds, she struggled to come up with a comeback while he waited for it with his brows raised, both breaking into jolts of guffaw afterwards.
"Alright! I have a question now." She asked with serious expressions set on her face and he knew better than to joke about that.
"Shoot then!"
"Why didn't you tell me the truth when I came to meet you that day in the jail?" As if being hit by a rock or truncated of the possible words, his mouth went all dry and parched but you know how they say "Saved by the bell" and so the bell did ring.
He promptly picked up the call. It was from Zeliha and the way his eyes shone with horror told how scared he was to hear what was coming next.
But Masooma had finally come to consciousness.
******
As the call for Fajar prayer poured in the dimly lit room, his eyes clicked open. He wanted to go meet his mother right after the prayer. Shoving the duvet off himself, he retired from the couch he slept in since it was visible from Ayat's expressions she wasn't comfortable enough to share the bed and knowing she was too kind to say that, he himself volunteered to sleep in the couch and even though she protested, asking to let her instead, he still didn't budge saying "what kind of a king lets her queen sleep in the couch while he himself takes the bed?"
"The fake kind," she had replied. But no matter what she said, he didn't listen.
Finally standing up, he was making his way towards washroom to make wudu but the figure of Ayat curled up innocently in the bed halted him and he perched on his knee by the edge of the bed.
The locks of her hair fell over her face and he fought the urge to push them to the side, grazing her with his eyes. She was so pure, like a flower that has just grown, the last drop of the rain. He could stare at her like that forever and praise her like a miraculous oeuvre. It would be exhausting, deliciously surreal.
"Are you gonna keep staring at me like a creep or actually swipe the stray hair away from my face like a real soap hero?" Her speaking out of nowhere literally choked the bejesus out of him as he fell back.
"God! Ayat, you want to kill me?"
Giggling and devouring the sight in front of her, she shot up straight in bed. "Is that it? Man up you, scared little tyke," she teased him with cat-like eyes.
He stood up on his feet as he patted at his arms trying to flicker whatever little dust that might have just etched on his T-shirt. "Okay, first of all that was sexist, and secondly, you can't just expect to catch people off-guard and not give any response in return, and thirdly, what are you doing up so late?"
"To pray, you genius. I'm Muslim, remember?"
He looked at her with his head tilted to the side, arms wounded on chest. "I mean you didn't sleep all night and don't tell me you did because I know you didn't."
That was true, she couldn't sleep all night, tossing and turning the entire time and the vagary in her expressions told her he was right.
Yesterday, in the hospital, on her way to cafeteria, her attention was caught by the whispering squeaks coming from the adjacent room which stopped her in her tracks. Apparently, the patient inside was raped and now her mother was asking her to keep her mouth shut in order to protect "her dignity."
"Come on tell me. What is it? We'll solve it together." And so she divulged him with each and everything. "...and you know even though I have everything planned out, like how much time it would take to build the NGO and all other expanses etc but it just haunts me that I'm not being able to help them right now."
"Who told you that?"
"Told me what?"
"That you can't help them right now?"
"What do you mean?" She scrunched her eyebrows.
"For your kind information, wifey, your husband runs an NGO in UK."
"WHAT?" She sparked up with exuberance and amazement
"Yup and I've been thinking to extend its branches in Pakistan as well."
"Oh My God! Tell me you are not joking because if you are, I swear I'm gonna..."
"Ya ya, either throw me from the roof top or roast me in the oven. I know, I know, and being really scared of you, I'm not lying, trust me."
The answer to her prayers just fell like that in her laps like a shining star. It was as if marrying this man was vanishing all her worries and vanquishing all her battles.
******
Fidgeting with the corner of her dupatta, she roamed around the premises of the kitchen island.
It had been almost a week since Masooma had been discharged and to everyone's shock, Masooma asked to eat with everyone, in the dinning-hall. "You know how they say when a woman gets married, her fate reflects on her husband, finally got to witness it." Ahid had said to her.
Zeliha had given her position in the office to Ahid saying she's growing 'old' and just wanted to relax now.
"Wanna call a bet?" Ahid had asked.
"For?" Ayat had raised her eyebrows.
"One week and this relaxation's gonna drive my workaholic mom nuts. Is 5000 enough?"
"AHID!" She called with defiance.
"Al right! We can decrease the amount if you want. Anything for you, wifey." He pulled at her cheek." They hadn't hugged each other since that day in the hospital but they were surely making progress in their relationship.
She folded her arms on her chest and looked at him with disapproval.
"Al right, money's off the table. Jeez!"
"Ok so have you always been this cretin or you just picked it up from somewhere?" She asked satirically.
"Well, you know how I said, a woman's fate reflects upon her husband?"
"Yeah! So?"
"Well, sometimes the qualities start embedding, too."
Rolling her eyes off at him, she convulsed her head. "Ok listen, mister, it's rude enough calling your mom nuts..."
"Correction; I did not call her nuts. I said it's gonna drive her nuts which won't happen because she's gonna give up and come back to the office immediately."
"Okay okay, but, still, betting is haraam."
"Only when the money is involved which is why I asked you not to bring it in."
She threw her hands in annoyance. "I don't get why khaala likes you so much to be really honest."
"Nice people like nice people." He had snickered.
Since it was weekend and Huda was in Pakistan with her little munchkin, she and Irha had decided to visit Ayat and right now she was freaking out because she couldn't figure out anything easy enough for her to make. If it were only Irha and Huda she had to feed, she would have made maggii because who cares about friends' taste anyway? Serve them Man-o-Salwa and they're still going to point out mistakes. The only proble was; Ahid, Zeliha, and Masooma were going to eat that too and she couldn't just give them her superior snacks. To say she was mad at Aliyah for taking a rain-check today would be an understatement.
"Hey! Whatchayadoin'?" Jumping into the bar stool at the counter, Ahid asked as he bit into the apple he had just scooped out from the basket.
"My friends are visiting me today and I still don't know what to cook for dinner," she told him.
"It's easy. Make biryani. The elite dish," he said munching on to his apple.
"Okay first thing's first, daal chawal the elite-est dish and secondly thanks for the idea." She smiled.
"Wait." Tossing the apple in his hand, he jumped of the stool and turned around the corner until he was face-to-face with her. "That just can't be it." Squinting his eyes, he said. "I can give you enough credit to do the easiest thing in the food world and that is to decide what to make...not eat...obviously."
"Stop acting like an obsessed clichéd hero and lemme do my work," she retorted as she tried turning around but he grabbed her with both his hands. "Tell me what's wrong, Simran?" She squeezed her shoulders at the thickness of his fake voice, her eyes dilated at his theatrics.
Freeing herself from his cave, she walked towards the fridge. "Please, Ahid, lemme get to work. They'll be here soon." But he still didn't budge and kept chasing her around.
"Come'n dude, tell me. I might be able to help you."
She huffed an exasperated sigh. "I don't want you to think low of me."
"You know that's impossible," he said and knitted her brows together at which he suddenly responded. "No no. I meant I can never think low of you. Not what you thought I meant. I can never joke about your integrity and you know that too well by now."
His words made her grin as she stood against the wall.
"Now spill it, wifey."
"Well, this wifey of yours is a culinary noob so there's that."
For a minute, Ahid stared at her as if he couldn't believe it when finally an "Oh My God!" came out of his mouth.
"See? I knew it." She protested.
"I actually cannot believe it." He convulsed his head.
"I'm sorry. I promise I'll try learning..."
But before she could complete her statement, he cut her off theatrically, "It's like a match made in heaven. We are a freaking perfect couple, Ayat."
"Okay, what I said wasn't harsh enough to drive you bonkers," she said, confused at his reaction and worried altogether.
"Can't you see it?"
"See what?"
"You don't know how to cook, I'm practically a master chef. We are so meant to be, dude. A perfect couple; where one spouse belongs to the kitchen and the other one doesn't know an A of cooking."
"Well in most of the cases, it's the other way around," she countered.
"Ah! The misogyny!"
"I wouldn't call it misogyny. The responsibilities vary accordingly actually."
"Okay okay. You are right. I'm wrong. Let's get to business now, shall we?"
Dragging her by her arm, he said and she threw her head back in giggles.
******
Don't have any strength left to say anything even though I wanted to but my fingers are literally squeaking right now. Don't believe me? Well, it's true.
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Until, next time, Allah Hafiz.
Xoxo.