The Life of Zara

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I'm currently making lunch . It has been two days and today being the third since Ahmed apologized. He's been at home since then trying to make up for what he did. As he said.

I still can't wrap it in my head that he's being nice to me. Sometimes it feels like I'm watching my own life. Kind of sitting at the corner watching it play. I don't even know how to explain with words I'm not good at expressing my feelings. The way he's been too nice Is warm, welcoming and tempting. But I know better than to allow myself to get to attached to this new feeling of comfort.

What if he is being nice to me out of pity?

I saw how sincere he was when he apologized. I believed he was manipulated. The people that went that extent will not just back away. They don't want us together and will do there best to do us apart.

What if they manipulate him again and make him hate me more? It's always possible right?

I don't wish and I pray that nothing bad happens to Aunty Hafsa. I can only imagine if something bad happens to her I will be thrown out and that is it.

Thinking about my parents hurt my heart. Not knowing whether they are alive or dead torment me the more. Even if I had had a chance to live happily how could I when I don't know whether they are alive? Wether they have a roof to sleep under? If they get enough to eat? If they ever get sick how they get to manage? And when I think of dad? Is he killed? Is he among the corpses we left behind? Was he slaughtered? The memories don't even make me cry anymore.

I can only pray for them.

The smell of burnt food made me cough bringing me out of my thoughts. I quickly off the gas.

Now back to square one.

I'm cooking fried rice. Ahmed who insisted in helping in kitchen went to get some vegetables for the salad because we ran out of them.

When I heard the clicking of the door I knew he is back. I left the kitchen and walk to the living room.

"Did you get it this fast?"

Only it wasn't Ahmed.

"Who were you expecting?"

"Hawwa. Come in." I offered.

"I told you not to tell me what to do in this house." She glared at me. She has this heavy make up as always. How long does it take to put it? I want to reach out and touch it to see if it's as thick as it seems. I wondered

"Why are you staring at me like that? Have you no manners?"

"I don't want to do this Hawwa.' I told her honestly. I came back to the kitchen and continued my work.

I heard the click of her heels until she's at the door of the kitchen.

"Don't you think you should pack your bags and go?"

"Aren't you getting too comfortable for a beggar?"

"House? Food? Clothes? And even a husband?"

"Who's your witch?"

I ignored her and continued my work. My mom always told me "it takes two to fight"

She wanted a reaction from me and she's not going to get one.

"I thought you will never get tired of sleeping around why settle for marriage?"

"How much do you need to pack your belongings and go?"

She stepped inside the kitchen and laughed.

"Are you playing dump with me now? You most talk."

"The drinks are in the fridge and glasses in the cupboard. This is home."

"Yes this is my home. But your home is there. Go back to the hole you came from you selfish brat. Your parents are probably death or at the brink of death and you are here enjoying a life that is not meant for you."

Before my hand could make contact with her face she was already slapped. Hard.

Ahmed.

"Don't you dare come to my house and disrespect my wife. If you can't respect her don't step your foot here again. You are not welcome. She's my family."

"Apologize!"

She look at me with hesitation and stubbornness.

"Now!_

He managed to be calm despite the fury in his eyes.

"I'm so.. r..ry Zara."

'You calling your sister inlaw her name?"

"I'm sorry Aunty Zara. She said with attitude and rushed out of the house."

After four years someone other than Aunty Hafsa stood up for me.

"I don't feel too good yaya Ahmed. Thanks for standing up for me."

"Don't thank me Zara. It's my responsibility. You're my wife."

He tried to stop me but I shook my head. I need some alone time.

"Please."

"Okay. But please don't think too hard."

I ran to my room and sat on the bed. I want the tears to come but my eyes are dry. I lay down there contemplating my life. Realizing it won't help. I stood up made wudu and prayed to raka'ats seeking help from the lord.

After my prayer I came back to the kitchen and start clearing the mess. I brought out the vegetables. Carrot, cabbage, peas and onions. I picked the ones I'll use and start washing them.

"What are you doing?" I moved a step back.

"You startle me. I'm cooking lunch."

"Just leave it we are going out."

"Huh?"

"My mom asked us to come over for lunch. I told her you're not feeling well but she kept insisting saying that she already prepared everything."

He's trying to explain. I smiled. "Okay I'll go get ready."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

I got dressed in less than 30minutes and we are in the car headed to his house.

"You look beautiful" he complimented looking ahead.

"Thank you."

I have this sick feeling about going to his house. Did Hawwa rushed to her and is she calling us to humiliate me? Why can't they understand I'm already having a hard time without them having to make it worst.

"If you have something bothering you, you can always talk to me Zara. Stop shutting people out. Talk to someone. Talk to me. When ever you are ready I'm here."

"I'll remember that."

"Please do."

He's being trying to get me to open up. Asking about me and my family. Those memories and these feelings are locked up inside me long ago. I have gotten use to holding it in. When I first talk to Laila about it I felt a little better. It's hard to talk about it because it has been kept inside me for so long.

"We're here."

I didn't realize he parked already. I didn't noticed when he entered the gate.

We entered the house with me following right behind him. The house is not new to me. I have worked like a clock in this house alot of time when she invited me to come over.

"Assalamu Alaikum" (peace be opon you) we greeted.

"Walaikumussalsm" (and unto you too)

She greeted. "Come on in Zara."

"Ina wuni aunty" (good afternoon)

We greeted and she welcomed us cheerfully.

"Zara you haven't come here since you two got married. To say that you are my daughter in-law and I have to drag you out to come see this old woman." She laughed.

"I'm sorry"

"It's okay. This home to you anyway. Get comfortable please."

"And you." She turned to Ahmed and shook her head.

"Where is the food? I'm starving." he announced.

"It's all set on the dinning. You two go and eat. Zara must be hungry too."

****************************

That moment when you are waiting for the unknown and you know that it's bound to happen.

It's weird she's been exceptionally nice to me today. Telling me stories about her childhood and cracking jokes. It's probably because Ahmed is here. I have helped her cook dinner and cleaned the house.

"Your wife is an excellent cook and a good company."

"I can't believe it's almost 8:00pm."

'I hope you'll come more often Zara."

"Insha Allah." I replied.

"Can we talk for a minute Zara?"

That got Ahmed's attention.

"Mom?"

"Don't mom me. She needs a motherly figure and a female to talk to sometimes. You wouldn't know."

"Let's go Zara." I reluctantly followed her. I knew this was coming.

I followed her to her room and she pushed the door carelessly and dragged me inside.

"Sit down!" She instructed pressing her lips in a thin line.

"Look up at me when I talk and get these inside your head."

"It seems even the beggar will look good in expensive clothing while eating good food and resting."

"Who will think you are the girl in those rag four years ago?"

"I'm begging you. While I'm still easy on you leave my son. I'll arrange your transport for you."

"At least go and check whether your parents are still alive."

She sat beside me and held my hands. She looked at me with the face of someone who is about to cry.

"You are ruining a family. You are ruining my son and I. You are ruining Hafsa and us. She's not in peace with her family because of you."

"She's more worried about you than her health."

"She's carelessly spending money searching for the beggars of your parents."

"She even stopped searching for our own brother. Our own blood."

"What do you think? Are you ready to leave peacefully? Or?"

I can only feel the pain in my chest. one day I might die because my heart explode.

"Enough of that!!"

Ahmed barged in and dragged me out of the room. I barely was able to pick my things before we got into the car. He clenched the steering wheel.

I stared at the window watching the cars and people passing by wondering what there life is like.

"Are you okay?" He asked through clenched teeth

"I'm fine."

I wondered how much he has heard. Today happened to be too bad. First Hawwa and now this.

"It scares me that you are so calm about this."

"There's nothing I can do about it."

No one said another word till we reached home that night. I asked him if he Wants anything and he said no. I picked up my kitty cat pajamas and went to the toilet. After taking my bath I got dressed and went back to my room to find Ahmed sitting on my bed.

"Fatima."

I stared glued to the door.

"Come here." His voice soft and warm.

My body responded and I found myself sitting beside him. I'm too tired to argue. He wrapped his hands around me hugging from the back.

"Cry."

"What?"

"Cry it out. Talk about it Zara. It'll only hurt you if you hold it in."

I heard both Hawwa and my mom I'm so sorry you had to go through all this. What they said about you is not true.

"It's okay"I managed to talk. My voice cracking. "It's not okay Zara. Cry it out. Talk about it."

"It's hard to talk about it."

Ahmed

I held her fragile form in my hands her back pressing against my chest. She feel small and yet she's so strong and acting tough. She's clearly hurting and she's trying to hold it in. I would have never known my mom or Hawwa will act this way. It hurt me more that my family are the ones hurting her this bad.

"It's hard to talk about it." She whispered crying.

"I know Zara."

"It hurts."

"It hurts so bad that it hurts."

"He wouldn't talk to me when I left. It was hard for him too. He doesn't have much friends it's only me."

Who's she talking about?

"Who?" I decided to ask her

"Yusuf. My brother."

She's now full on crying and sobbing.

"You know what hurt the most?"

"Everyday reminds me of them."

"When.. When i... Ah.. Sleep I don't know where they sleep?"

"When I eat I wonder if they get food."

"I can only wonder."

"I miss them."

"And dad."

"You know what's worst?"

"We all don't know. We don't know. He's probably dead."

"I don't want him to die. I don't want his corpse to be left. Discarded like that. Like they killed him."

"Who?"

"Him. They killed him. With blood. Lots of blood."

"It's everywhere."

"He's eyes where staring at us. We didn't bury him. We left him like that. He.. He deserved better."

I can see how much she cared for this person. I can see how broken and vulnerable she is. How pitiful she looked that she had me in tears.

The sight that beheld me broke my heart.

"It's okay Zara." My voice doesn't sound like mine.

"Everything is going to be Okay Insha Allah."

"Allah has a way of doing things. He will bring them back to you. You are strong. I admire your strength that you leave me in awe."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you. You're going to be okay."

"I'll do my best to help. I'm here for you."

"You have to keep praying never give up okay."

I turned her around. Her eyes are red and swollen. I hugged her as I silently prayed for her. I have to think of a way. And I have to be quick about it. I have to prevent her from hurting anymore. Her wounds are big and deep.

After sometime she slept and I lay down with her in my arms. I prayed for her and stared at her face.

She look so beautiful and peaceful in her sleep. Thick eyebrows. Long lashes. Bold eyes. But she look pale and slim. Unlike the girl in that picture. With full cheeks and dimples.

It took me long thinking and looking at her face before sleep engulfed me.