A Promise From My Heart

Chapter Seventeen

YUSUF'S POV

It was our wedding anniversary. I had stopped at a flower shop to get Amatullah her favourite flower, white roses and I had gotten a customised necklace from a tiffany and co store in Lekki. I wanted to surprise her and not just that, I wanted to seek permission from her doctor if I could take her out. I was filled with joy, a joy I had not witnessed in over a year.

Noor had changed a lot. A week had passed and everything about her was different. She was back to her normal self. She cooked dinner few days ago. She mended her relationship with everyone including father. For the first time in over a year, I saw my father laugh, a genuine one, a laughter that rang with so much happiness. Noor had done it. She was the reason behind that laughter. When I saw father laughed, it touched my soul. I had wanted to cry. Noor had made a good bond with Raihan and Raihana. She had sat with grandmother in her room giving her massages, chatting with her and made sure she rested. And her relationship with me was still the same until last night. She had come to my room to beg for my forgiveness. She had come to my room to amend our relationship. Subhanallah, I was flowing in the stream of happiness. At first, it had felt like a dream watching her on her kneels, weeping and speaking. We amended our differences after a hug.

As I approached Amatullah's ward, my smiled grew wider and my happy heart jumped with joy. I was finally meeting her after a long night without her. It had been three months since she stayed in the hell hole. Life had not been easy without her. The nights had been cold without her by my side. There were times at night when I reached out for her to realise she was not there. Most times, I could not sleep. My mind was never at peace with the fact that she was staying somewhere with no one she knew. As for her health, there was no improvement. It was the same thing every day. After work, I would spend the evening with her. We would talk, play and show how much love we have for each other. But during those days, pain was my companion.

"Yusuf, our baby kicked today"

"Yusuf, when are we going for antenatal?"

"Yusuf, what shall we name our child?"

"Yusuf, do you really care for our child? When last did you shop for our child?"

"Yusuf, our baby this, our baby that"

It was getting unbearable. What's wrong? Why? Why? Why can't she just live with her loss and accept the truth the way I had done? It was not easy losing the pregnancy but I did not go into denial. I had accepted our loss as fate. Sometimes, I felt anger towards her but I knew she needed patience which I had given her. I swallowed my glowing anger as I turned the knob to her ward. When I opened the door, what I saw was not appealing at all.

By the bed, Amatullah stood, weeping. She had frozen to look at the door while speaking. Doctor Adebayo stood across the bed, a confused and pleading look on her face.

"Alhamdulillah, Yusuf you are here" Amatullah walked up to me sniffling as she wiped away her tears.

"What's wrong? What happened, beautiful?" I dropped the flowers on the sofa, closed the door and walked up to her.

"Yusuf, what nonsense is she talking about?" she asked pointing a shaking finger at her doctor as she walked up to me. "What is she talking about? I don't understand her Yusuf. I don't. I am pregnant right?" she ranted, tears running down her face.

"Amatullah" I called, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder.

"Don't call my name" she barked, moving away as if my hand stung her. "Just tell her I am pregnant. We are expecting a baby soon right?" she was aggressive.

That is it. We are at it again. The whole I am pregnant thing. I was tired of lying. I was fed up. I refused to speak. My head was beginning to get hot.

"Yusuf, speak. Why are you not talking?" she shouted. "Tell her what we know" she grabbed my shoulder. When she got no response from me, she backed away. "Why are you mute?" she cried.

I became restless, my brain got hotter. I turned my back against her, holding my forehead as a new headache set in. She kept shouting and screaming but I could not do anything neither could I say anything. Anger began to assemble in me. It flowed through my pumping veins hot and burning. I fisted my hands to my sides. Amatullah's anguished voice was all I heard. It sounded fainter and fainter. I held my head. I was turning red. I tried holding back my anger but I could not. I tried controlling it but it was out of hand. And the next thing that happened was something I never expected. I whirled around and grabbed Amatullah by her shoulders hard and strong.

"Shut up! Shut up, Amy!! Keep that running mouth of yours shut!!!" I exploded, my angry voice boomed across the room. Amatullah halted in my tight grip, her tear stained face lost its colour immediately. Her eyes widened due to great shock. "Which baby are you talking about? Which child? Answer me?" I shouted shaking her vigorously. My eyes burned with unshed tears. "Is it the one we lost over a year ago? Which pregnancy? The one we lost after that accident? Answer me? Tell me, Amy? Speak?" I roared. She began to tremble under my hard grip.

"We don't have any child. You are not pregnant. We have lost our pregnancy. It has been over a year. You have stayed here for three months and what? There is no improvement in your health. Yusuf, our baby this, our baby that?" I mimicked her voice "Tell me which baby you are expecting? The one in our dreams? Damn it, Amatullah. We don't have any child. You are not pregnant. We have lost our baby" I shouted, my throat burning then pushed her away gently.

I had allowed my anger get the best of me. My head banged with a terrible headache. I fisted my hands my veins popping out as I tried hard to calm myself. No one spoke. Not even Amatullah who was shocked to the bone. Her eyes ran restlessly around the room. She was shaking. Her breathing raged so also mine. She ran her shaking hands through her shoulder length hair which had grown a little bit longer. I stopped moving around and watched her just the way her doctor did. Amatullah walked to her bed still trembling running a hand through her dishevelled hair. What happened next was quick. I had not seen the flower vase which I had gotten for her during her first day in the hospital coming towards me. It broke on my forehead, hard and painful. Amatullah threw it at me.

"Yusuf, you are crazy?" she screamed with all her might. "You have gone mad?" she wept placing a hand on her chest, anguish written all over her face "My baby is inside me. It is growing inside me" she pushed everything on her nightstand then ran her hands through her hair frustrated, she bit her lower lip then released it.

I had a hand on my bleeding throbbing forehead. Blood ran down one side of my face, my shaking hand stained with blood.

"Yusuf, you crazy bastard! We have a baby in me!" she threw one of her perfume towards my direction but it stopped in the middle of the living area breaking into pieces. She screamed and screamed and screamed as she wept breaking things. She scattered her well laid bed. The daisies I had bought for her the day before were scattered on the floor. I could not stop the tears that ran down my face. My head throbbed badly. It felt as if I had being hit by a thick metal. Amatullah was wild. So wild like a savaged lioness. Her doctor walked to the intercom said something I could not hear clearly but her voice was urgent.

"Amatullah" Doctor Adebayo moved towards her.

Amatullah pushed her away. Doctor Adebayo tottered back almost falling. The door flung opened behind me. Four nurses walked past me. One of them held a tray which she placed on the nightstand. They moved towards Amatullah.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed and struggled as they grabbed her by her arms. "Leave me. Yusuf!!!!!!" she screamed as they pulled her towards the bed. She struggled and fought back.

There was nothing I could do. Nothing. I watched weeping silently. The pain I felt on my forehead was little compared to the pain I felt in my throbbing heart. It hurts more than a knife in my chest to see her that way. She screamed shouting my name as if she wanted me to help her. My heart broke into pieces. I wanted to speak but when I tried to, tears came out of my eyes. I wanted to tell them to stop. She was hurting and I did not like it but I could not. Words were frozen in my burning throat. Amatullah fought back getting more aggressive every passing second.

"Yusuf, my baby is growing in me. I am pregnant. You have gone mad, Yusuf" she screamed as they pinned her to the bed, kicking her legs in the air.

Doctor Adebayo picked the injection resting in the tray on the coffee table. She held the syringe up then walked up to them. I watched as she plunged the syringe into Amatullah's arm and few seconds later, the room was dead silent like a cemetery.

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"She knew what I was saying. She understood I was trying to help her with her denial but she was not ready to accept the truth. She had kept telling herself she was pregnant that was why you met her in that condition when you came" Doctor Adebayo explained after the whole incident had calmed down.

I sat in her office, my bandaged head buried in my palms. I just listened to her, the whole event that had happened kept playing in my head. I kept seeing Amatullah scream and struggle. Her voice filled my head.

"The reason she was aggressive is because she had not expected those words from you. You are the one who tells her she is pregnant and has no worries. She trusted you and you broke it. It had surprised her. Your outburst was also another reason. She was scared. When she was silent, she was trying to think about what you said. She was trying to sooth herself and tell herself what you said was a lie. Then anger took over her. I am so sorry" her voice was soothing and calm. "We have sedated her so it will take some time for her to wake up"

"When will all this end?" I asked my voice deep and harsh.

"Very soon. She needs time"

"That's what you keep saying" I shouted getting up. "She needs time! She needs time!! She needs time!!! When will it come to an end? Look at her, she was aggressive and had broken my head and you are telling me she needs time?" I jammed my hand on her table.

"Yusuf, please you will calm down" she got up.

She was calm as usual. Seriously, do psychiatrists have any anger? Without saying any word, I turned and left.

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She was a beauty. Defined natural eyebrows, upturned bold eyes that glimmered with happiness and twinkle like the stars, long eyelashes that looked down on high cheek bones, a cute nose I never got tired of kissing, a smile that would brighten up a dark place, a laughter that was the best music I wanted to hear, her laughter and smile were so important to me, they made her beautiful, soft puckered lips that tasted so sweet, and a heart that was innocent. She reached out to others in time of need. She was one of the reasons for the laughter in my house.

Watching the woman who rules my heart lay on the bed in deep slumber due to some sedative made my heart bleed. I could not control the lone tear that ran down my face. I held her soft hand in mine then planted a kiss on her palm. They were so soft like a baby's palm and smooth like silk.

I was the reason behind her pain. I caused it. I should not have spoken to her. I should not have shouted at her. I should have kept quiet but I did not. I had allowed my anger control me. Guilt welled up in my heart.

"I am sorry" I said kissing her palm, a tear drop fell on her palm.

She had hurt her right foot during the commotion. A glass had pierced into it. I had not noticed until everything had calmed down. Gently, I ran a hand over her bandage feet then kissed her feet, just soft like her palms. I needed comfort. I wanted someone to hug me and tell me it is well. With a shaking hand, I picked up my phone and dialled my father's number. After few rings, father picked.

"Yusuf, Assalamu alaikum" Dad's cheerful voice boomed into the phone.

Subhanallah, he was happy.

"Dad" I wept into the phone.

"Yusuf, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

"Dad, it was my fault" I cried, using a hand to muffle my cries.

"Son, tell me what the problem is? Has something gone wrong? Is there anything wrong with Amatullah?" he threw questions at me. "Tell me, son"

That was the man I knew before the incident, the man who was ready to solve my problem. Words refused to leave my shaking lips. Weak, the phone slipped from my shaking hand and fell on the floor. I buried my face in my shaking palm and wept like I had never done. I cried out my pain to no one.

I laid Amatullah's prayer mat on the floor close to her bed. After my Isha prayer, I sat back on the bed doing supplications to Allah, my saviour, the only one I could cry to and would hear my agony, pain and tears wherever I am. I raised my joined palms up. With tears in my eyes, I prayed. I ended my prayer with Suratul Fathia and continued my supplication until I drifted into slumber.