Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem.
Shabna now took the wet cloth and squeezed it to remove the water and then neatly placed it over the rope and pinned it, so that when the wind blew, the clothes wouldn't fly away.
Though she was physically putting the clothes to dry, mentally her mind was elsewhere.
She reminded herself for the hundredth time to be patient over her situation and forced herself to accompany the thought that this is what her life is. She couldn’t run away from here, she couldn't escape the situation, she couldn’t die, all she could do was to endure the pain with brave patience.
Unknown to her, a small tear rolled over her cheek as she bit her lips.
She bit so hard that she felt the coppery taste of blood seeping her tongue.
After filling all the ropes that were hanging with wet clothes, she climbed down the stairs. She was about to step down the porch of their house when she heard her husband call her, "Shabna, coffee!"
She gritted her teeth and went to prepare one for him.
She placed a pot of milk to boil and proceeded to make breakfast which was Chicken Pasta. She meanwhile marinated the chicken and when the milk boiled she poured it over a cup and stirred with coffee powder and a cube of sugar.
Two days had gone by that awful incident.
Both the husband and wife had not talked about it aloud. They both acted as if the encounter never happened.
Today was Sunday and Armaan had a day off.
He woke up late and asked her for some hot coffee. He was leaning over an easy chair and reading the newspaper when she entered the room.
She placed the cup on the nearby table adjacent to him and then went to make the bed.
Armaan looked over his wife and sighed.
"Shabna!" He said in a carefree voice. She didn't turn but stilled in her action.
"Shabna!" He repeated. When she continued making bed, he went to her and turned her around to face him. "Shabna! Don't you hear me?" His tone was angry.
Shabna's breathing hitched at the close proximity and her hand strained with pain as he was held her hand roughly.
"W-h-a-t n-o-w?" She stuttered.
"Don't act like nothing happened between us. I don't understand what you are doing. Don't you want to talk about it?" He asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut and small tears grazed her closed eyes but they didn't fall.
"No." She shook her head. Seeing her state, he slowly removed his hands away from her.
"Fine," he said after a long gap of staring at her small petite form.
..
An active baby in the womb makes her mother feel tingling sensations now and then, after four months of being pregnant Shabna felt the same.
A smile creeped her mouth as she combed her hair.
"What are you smiling for?" asked Armaan entering the room.
In the world, there were so many expressions which could have been shown to him after knowing what he was doing behind her back but he didn't expect this reaction from her.
She hadn’t talked with him since the incident and that was understandable, but he was surprised that they didn't have a single fight over the issue nor did they discuss it.
On one note, he was happy that she wasn't clingy and made him stop hanging out with the other lady but at the same time, he was slightly amused as to know what she was thinking.
All the while, he hadn’t even once regretted cheating on her.
Seeing him enter the room, she quickly tied her hair into a bun and stood up to leave.
"Shabna! I am asking you. Are you deaf?" He asked loudly when she left the room without a second glance.
After crossing the hallway, she ran to the kitchen. She gasped for air as she held the kitchen counter.
He acted as if he cared while he didn't, and she knew that more than anyone else.
During those two years of their marriage, all she did was notice him. Like an idol, she had worshipped him. Her mornings started after staring at his sleepy form for at least half an hour and her nights ended waiting for him at late hours. In the meanwhile; cooking his favorite dishes, smelling his clothes when folding them after drying, keeping everything in place so he could reach them easily, taking care of him etc..
But now, doing the same chores she adored to do made her feel burdened.
She hated laying down next to him in the same bed. Even the small touch his body does when turning in sleep made her feel like pricking with thousands nails.
He broke her in ways she was not ready for.
Her heart cracked every time he stepped out the house, just with the thought of who he was going to meet.
If she wasn't pregnant, she would have gone mad by this time.
Men are so selfish. They make us do everything for them but when the time comes for them to do those things back, they simply back away.
After a few beads of silence, she turned back towards the corridor through which she entered the kitchen. Her heart ached to know that he hadn't followed her, which meant he didn't care whether she talked to him or not, he didn't care whether she loved him or not, he didn't care about her existence at all.
Tears laced her beautiful eyes.
"Shabna?" Her Mother-in-law called out, entering the kitchen.
She quickly turned and wiped her tears away.
"Yes?"
"Why are you wasting your time by standing still. Are you mad?" She asked.
"No. I was just going to . . ." Shabna stretched, thinking of something to say but failed.
"Whatever! I don't care" Her Mil placed a hot bag on the counter. "Keep this for charge, so I can compress my leg later." Announcing that she went outside.
Sighing, Shabna went to keep the hot bag for charge.
She entered the hall and plugged the phone in the plug point and switched it on and she was about to place the bag over the small table stand when Armaan's phone beeped with a text message. She felt bile rise up her throat when she looked at the screen showcasing a small text icon with a message that read, Darling, booked tickets for the night show tonight and guess what? it's my favorite one!
And the rest of the text would be only visible when you open the lock.
That night, when the stars shined bright in the sky, when the lights were turned off, Shabna cried herself to sleep while the other side of her bed remained empty.
.......
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