Wrong Suffered At Hands (Chapter Nineteen)

19.

 

She was being stirred, and the truth that was once more thrust upon her was like being struck in the head with a mallet. She was previously taught the truth by Sameer, but now she was being driven farther into the phase of remorse.

She should have declined, she reasoned.

To escape the load that had been pressing against her chest, she allowed herself to cry in the shadows of the evening while she was alone in the yard outdoors with Zoya in the cradle.

Her fate will never achieve better; she was forlorn once more. Her cruel fortune prohibited her from holding out hope for a better tomorrow because her current had already wrecked her.

As soon as she heard the lounge door open, she wiped her tear-stained face with her shawl. To her ears, the sound of slippers stomping on the sparse grass was reverberating.

"I'm sorry." With a good distance between them, Affan sat next to her.

"How come you're sorry? I should have known earlier, thus I'm at fault."  Her throat was clenched as she snorted. She was nonetheless in the state of crying which made her voice thicker and hoarse.

"She didn’t mean to say that, but-"

"To say what, exactly? It's enough the way she just crammed the fact into my head. I'm losing my ability to tolerate situations, and one day I could burst." She murmured while her voice cracked due to the sobbing and when Zoya began to cry, she gave the cradle a gentle shove with her foot.

“She’s a sick woman, don’t pay heed to her. She already thinks you aren't suitable for me, so we can't convince her. Be at peace and let it go."  Affan explained as he bent down to take up the wailing baby.

He made an effort to hold her in his arms while rocking her back and forth.

"And how did she discover that I gave Zoya her name? You promised to tell her that you chose the name, didn't you"? She questioned, her neck moving in time with Affan's pacing back and forth.

"What could I possibly do? She insisted on a name change, and if I had complied, you would have been the one upset with me. I was under pressure." The more Zoya cried, the more annoyed he sounded.

"Allow me to carry her."  From him, she grabbed Zoya and placed her in her lap.

"I'm caught between the two of you. I'm not sure who I should pay attention to more: her or you? I'm not sure who deserves my consideration." His eyes growing crimson, and he nearly yelled at her.

"I'm your wife and she's your mother, we both have our positions in your life." Afiyah explained as she fed Zoya from her breast. "When she deserves it, pay attention to her; don't worry about me. I'm not the one who brought you up, you were carried by her, and now that I'm a mother too, I understand how difficult it is to bear a child on one's own." She refused to look at him.

She was baffled by Affan's unexpectedly quiet demeanor. When she gazed at him in the eyes, she saw sympathy in those eyes; he seemed concerned.

"You truly are different." He strolled back inside the lounge, leaving Afiyah wondering on the bench with her daughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The frigid waves that dashed against her feet felt like thorns searing her skin. The rush of incredibly chilly breeze ruffled her hair as her feet were submerged in the damp sand. She remained rigidly positioned as she gazed out into the depth of the ocean, with the moon and constellations reflecting upon it.  She was overcome by the view, which resembled her current state of mind, as the lightning struck the gloomy sky from amid the black clouds.

She sensed a firm chest press against her back, and before she recognized anything, arms were draped over her waist. She felt a chin brush against her shoulder, and the aroma was shoved into her senses.

As soon as her brain registered the aroma, strenuous tears began to well up in her eyes. She gave it a good whiff, letting the aroma take over her body while her thoughts became hazy and misty.

“Hassan.” She cried out, her voice feeble and overflowing with anguish.

With contour of a face pressing against her cheek, a faint hum was heard against her ear.

She tried calling again, but this time her voice was muffled. Before she could comprehend what was occurring, she felt the hand leave her waist and the figure behind her vanish.

“Please stay.” Her throat was constricted, so she was powerless to utter a word. Losing the contact was just as heart wrenching as letting go of the hand that held you back from sliding into the shadows.

 

She blinked her warm, moist eyes, allowing the surroundings to come into focus; She had the milk bottle in one hand and rested the other on Zoya's little chest as she lay sideways.

Her curves were aching from the posture she laid in as she stood straight. Affan was fast asleep beside Zoya, both father and daughter.

She snuck out of bed and into the yard from her room. She was standing on a ledge in the verdant yard when a gentle burst of cold breeze blew into her face. She recalled the dream, but she needed to concentrate her wits to memorize it accurately. She wished she had at least turned to face him; she was desperate to see his face and worried she could lose sight of his aspects or how he appeared. She hasn't seen him in three years.

She inhaled deeply, but her breath came out unsteadily as she let out a wail of despair. She muffled her sobs with the back of her hand since she believed no one was coming after her as she sobbed in the dead of night.

 

As time slipped away, Afiyah learned that parenting an infant by oneself was even more arduous, particularly when the newborn would cry day in and day out without Afiyah being able to determine why Zoya was disturbed. She would rock her all night long, occasionally leaving her bedroom, so that the exhausted Affan could rest adeptly. Sometimes, hearing Zoya's sobbing required her to flee from the kitchen immediately, putting aside the chores or the dishwashing.

Additionally, there were instances when she had to simultaneously care for the agitated Soraya and the sobbing Zoya, which caused her to get exhausted and even frustrated.

It was challenging to complete the chores while cradling Zoya in her arms and occasionally caring for a distressed Zoya while she scrubbed the floor.

That day also saw the same circumstances. The sun was directly overhead on a hot day, making her bedroom feel very much like an oven.

"Would you just be quiet for a moment?" She dragged the sobbing Zoyah around the room while appearing frustrated and on the edge of tears herself. Even after feeding and changing her diaper, she continued to cry throughout the day for no apparent reason.

Perhaps the heat was to blame.

She caressed her petite back while swiping her hand against her temple to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed there.

She then heard the doorbell ring, but she was too engrossed in her concerns to pay attention. She argued and decided that the visitor at the door would leave on his own when the doorbell rang once more.

The bell rung longer this time, so Afiyah grumbled and made the decision to check the front entrance.

She walked along the yard towards the front gate while holding Zoya in her arm. As she unlatched the door, she had to squint since the amount of sunlight was too intense for her to see clearly.

At the door, three women—two wearing shawls and one wearing a small scarf—were standing. When she caught a glimpse of the girl wearing the scarf and identified her glossy eyes, her heart leaped inside her ribcage.

"You cretin! You thought you'd go away like that?" Kainat yelled as she lunged at Afiyah to smack her in the arm. When she noticed the infant in Afiyah's arms, she screamed even louder, "Goodness gracious me, give her to me!"

Kainat shrieked in excitement as she sprinted inside the lounge when Afiyah handed Zoya over to her.

"We assumed we wouldn't run across you again."

When Eshaal and Bushra entered, Afiyah couldn't comprehend her senses. She held them both at the same moment, pressing them into the embrace and refusing to let go any time soon.

"How did you two get here?"  She was so close to sobbing that she almost did.

"Shouldn't we be putting the same question to you?" Bushra slapped her arm away in derision.

“We have a lot to inquire now invite us in.”

 

 

 

 

Afiyah briefly observed the contented Zoya resting in Kainat's lap or how she would giggle in response to Kainat cooing to her. It took her a long time of reprimanding to grasp that three of her long-forgotten buddies were seated in front of her at once while the four of them were positioned across from one another on the couch arrangement in the living room.

"How did the two of you meet Kainat?"

"We happen to be in the same class as her, and when she mentioned you one day, we've been pursuing her ever since." Ehsaal clarified, winking at Kainat.

"I can't believe what I'm witnessing, all of you together." She laughed, to which Bushra gave her a frown.

"Do you still require a lot of reprimanding?" They all chuckled at Bushra's comment, but she quickly lost her grin as she was reminded of some previous experiences involving Eshaal and Bushra.

"Everyone that I thought I had lost is now coming back to me; Talal followed by the three of you." She bit her lip in an effort to contain the emotional outburst she was experiencing, "Was Hassan the one who brought you both here again?" she asked, unable to look into their eyes.

Afiyah discovered herself gulping down the parchedness as a result of the obnoxious stillness that followed.

Was the answer yes or no?

Eshaal attempted to speak, when a strident voice interrupted her, saying, "Are you still seeking for that bastard?"

They all turned to face Kainat.

"He dumped you. Did you overlook the fact how you sought months for him to reply you?" said Kainat as she rose up holding Zoya in her arms. "Did you forget about the countless nights of insomnia?”

"Kainat, what are you saying?" Bushra spoke while totally perplexed.

"She is correct." As Afiyah said the truth that plunged daggers into her chest; she closed her eyes to endure the anguish. "I attempted to get in touch with him, but he never answered-"

“And what you did? Got married?” Eshaal expressed her dismay.

"How you two are thinking is not so simple. Rather than waiting for him, there is a reason why I got married.” She caught considerable interest of Eshaal and Buhsra, "It was his mother." She swallowed again, her voice flattening, "She married me to Affan."

As they both exclaimed, "How?" and "What?" Eshaal and Bushra's eyes nearly flew out of their sockets.

She gave the elderly woman's room, which looked to be closed, a quick peek and said, "To put it simply, she shoved me out of the way." Incredulous that she still needed to will herself to believe, she snickered.

"That's the spirit hellcat, show them everything." Kainat gave her a cheery cry of encouragement.

"Hassan loved you, Afiyah."

"Even if he did, his mother would prevent us from reconciling. She has never desired me."

"What if he still wants to marry you?"

Her heart twisted to the point that she felt a dull throb in her chest as a result of Bushra's query.

"I'm not sure. He must have a busy life and be content". She reasoned while shaking uncontrollably and tinkering with her fingers.

"Avoid fantasizing about unattainable ideals. I can't believe you just considered him abandoning you after everything you two have been through." Eshaal's apparent dissatisfaction with Afiyah irked her.

"Could we please drop this?" In despair, she wiped her palms across her face.

"Sure, but give it some thought."