NEHA
A week had passed since the day I found out about Ilyas’s past. And you would think I cried myself to sleep every night. That I completely cut off all forms of contact with Ilyas.
I didn’t, however.
I was distant with him, yes, but I didn’t stop greeting him or making him food or didn’t show any form of discontentment to him. I still smiled occasionally when he did, and replied to his questions he asked me.
Like: how was your day?
Fine.
Like: what did you make today?
Pasta.
Like: Do you want oreo shake?
No, thank you.
I’d say I was doing pretty good, dealing with this pretty smoothly.
I still did what could be called a wife’s duty.
Today Noor was coming over. She had been calling me practically every day since that day, urging she had something big to tell me. How big
