Danish slept peacefully that night. Naila could never stop wondering how. Every time they fought, she lost her peace, herself, while he refused to accept his shares of mistakes but just blame Naila for everything.
Naila walked to her room. She settled down. Her heart sank. A burden that sank her deep down into the ocean. She broke down again. Tears could not be controlled. She hugged her legs and buried her face on her knees.
Naila was aware that she can no longer stay in this house. The house owned by Danish. But she knew well that she has nowhere else to go either. The thought of going back home sent a chill down her spine, the only place she can run to and get shelter but that means paying a heavy price.
"What choice do I have?" She asked herself. "I don't have big saving, I don't have anyone to talk about this, I have none who would support me, what the hell am I going to do?"
She lay on her back, worn out from crying
She lay staring at the ceiling, as the weight on her chest slowly eased, as the exhaustion slowly pulled her under, and before long, she drifted into sleep.
"Naila, Naila, wake up" Danish woke Naila. Naila jumped up from the bed. "It's nine ready," he said.
Naila could feel her face feeling sticky due to all the tears that ran down her eyes. She checked time and it indeed was past nine. "Your parents are calling me," he told her.
"Why?" She asked back yawning.
"To ask about the divorce," he said. She smiled and looked at them.
"Could not wait for me to inform them. Had to jump and tell them stories I guess," Naila smirked.
"What stories?" He asked, unable to understand.
"Nothing," she tied her hair up. Danish noticed her neck for the first time and Naila noticed that he is staring at her.
Naila ignored him, feeling disgusted. Her phone kept ringing and she did not answer the calls. She stepped out of the room to the bathroom. She brushed and showered. She walked out wrapping the towel around her. She put on the pyjamas and walked towards the kitchen.
"What's the breakfast? " Danish followed her to the kitchen.
"I don't know" she replied.
"Grill some sausages and make scrambled eggs," he commanded. Naila gave him a look.
"Why should I make it for you? I'm not your anyone. Prepare yourself whatever you need," she said.
"This is exactly the problem between us. You have never been nice to me," he smiled.
"Exactly. You only know to command but do nothing. You have done nothing out of love for me. Not once. Not a single date night, not a single meal cooked, never a glance, a kiss, nothing have I ever received from you. I'm not the one who hired the cook and kept it a secret and then fired her the moment someone left the job. I'm not the one who keeps in touch with their ex and still say I miss you. I'm not the one who gave up on this marriage. It's you. So I'm not going to tolerate any of it anymore. I'm so done." Naila looked at him who looked shocked. "Now tell me Danish. Why should I continue to love you? Listen to you? When all you did was treat me worse than anyone I could remember?"
"Naila, stop spouting nonsense," That's all he could say.
"Fine," Naila smirked, wiped her tears, and left the kitchen. She was no longer hungry.
"Where are you going?" He asked, following her to the room.
"For heaven's sake I am not going to cook anything. Go do something for yourself," she screamed back at him.
Her phone rang again. It was her mother. She ignored. Danish opened the door then. He handed her his phone. "What?" She asked.
"Your mother," he said and left. She sighed and grabbed the phone, closing the door behind her back.
"What is it Umma?" She asked her mother.
"What the hell is going on? Danish told me something? What are you doing there? Can you not be nice ti him? Why do you keep fighting with him? He must have gotten really angry, enough to decide to divorce you? Seriously? Is that how we brought you up? Is this why we gave you life after all that wedding ceremonies and money spent. Did you even think of us? You better solve the issue with him and stay there. A dutiful wife should be beneath her husband, listening to him, satisfy his needs mentally and physically. Not like you, getting angry all the time," her mother went on.
"Who said?" Naila asked back.
"Start with me again. Never listen to anyone. Always have questions and answers back. You will never learn. That's why your life is coming to an end. He must have felt so angry and felt he is done with you. Go ask for forgiveness. Patch things up. Here I am expecting a grand child and you fighting with my son-in-law instead of making a child with him," Mother had no intention to listen to Naila.
"Are you done?" Naila asked.
"Yes," Mother replied.
"Umma did you care at least once while you spoke all this time? Did you even wonder what it might have done to me. Did it occur to you that you should have asked how I feel about all of this?" Naila felt really sad. She had no expectations but she still fell sad.
"It does not matter. Nobody would like a woman who tries to be strong. Go talk him quick," Mother kept insisting. "Wait, I will give it your dad," she said and passed the phone.
"Naila," her father's voice echoed over the phone. But she had no courage to listen to him? "I knew this would happen one day. I awlays saw it in you and I was always afraid because of it."