...he thought that staying there and crying would never help, but crying to Allah would.
"You're going too soon?" Maryam lamented when she saw Muslim and Jasmine came out of the room.
"Yes, might come back later." Muslim gave a subtle smile.
"We didn't even talk." Maryam persisted.
"I'll talk with my wife first, she's not well so she'll have to relax." He said and turned to look at Jasmine who was unsure to what to say or do.
"We'll take our leave aunt Maryam. And I think it's better if we pray instead of sitting and folding our arms, I do hope she gets better." Muslim knew something definitely went wrong, he thought about it carefully but he could point out what exactly went wrong or how it went wrong.
"Are you okay? Let me help you down the stairs." Muslim attempted to hold Jasmine but she yanked herself from his hold and descended down the stairs as fast as she could albeit the rate at which she was walking was hurting her.
He paced faster than her and blocked her way. "What now?"
"You've got some nerve to ask me? Get out of my way." She thundered and walked past him, he followed her.
"Jasmine please, talk to me."
"I won't talk to you." She walked towards the gate to hail a tricycle.
"Jasmine are you insane?"
"Insane? Really? I'm not going home with you." They were attracting attention.
"Please don't leave me again." He hugged her. "Please."
"Let go of me, people are watching."
"I don't care. You can punish me by not talking to me even though it'd hurt but please stay." He said as he rested his head on her shoulder and she stopped wiggling, she didn't hug him.
He slowly let go of her and she walked to the car and sat on the passenger seat.
The drive was a silent one, Jasmine was thinking why her life vicissitudes were so rapid, just when the kairosclerosis of being with Muslim was overwhelming and satisfying, this happened. If there was anything she felt, it was athazagoraphobia; the fear or being forgotten or replaced.
He didn't even care that she was in the room, he was being so romantic with supposed-dead girlfriend. He even touched her, he kissed her rotten-like forehead.
Her baby kicked at the thought of him marrying Ummulkhayr and forgetting about her and her baby totally, she wondered how her baby could react to the emotions she didn't even say, or maybe it was just coincidental. Her eyes tingled but she blinked the threatening tears away and swallowed the lump in her throat. Weirdly, she was craving to sniff petrichor but she didn't want to give up being angry.
She was literally cicatrizing from leaving the person she loved with her all, trying to settle with the person she hated. Just how much she missed the irenic nirvana of her life ere the arranged marriage stuff was disclosed to her–the ataraxia.
"Don't park this car, else I'll do something we both will regret." Jasmine voiced in a warning tone when she saw Muslim driving towards the driveway, the cacoethes was eating her up but she was trying to control herself. "Just take me home." He had no option than to abide.
"Talk to me Jasmine, you can't give me the silent treatment and expect me to fathom what actually is wrong with you." Muslim said as he hastened his pace to meet his wife who was surprisingly walking faster than him after they alighted. She wasn't even requesting for him to hold her, she would say she was feeling heavy or dizzy but now, she seemed ten times stronger. Women are wonders when they get angry.
