***Trigger warning- Is'haaq discusses his wife's miscarriage in rather deep details. Please read with caution.

***

"Will you tell me about Yahya?" Is'haaq lowered the volume on the tv but Juri didn't even notice. Neither had really been watching the screen; both trapped in their own thoughts that somehow made them feel further away from each other even though they had been close enough to touch.

"What do you want to know?" she curled up onto her side of the couch, resting her head against the back pillow.

"Whatever you want to tell me." Is'haaq stretched out, his socked feet enclosing Juri as if to keep her safe from everything else.

She untied her hair and brought it to rest over her shoulder where she braided and unbraided, keeping her hands busy. "When my granny passed away, I didn't know what to do with him. My parents were..." she shook her head, "It was just the two of us and I couldn't afford to put him in a home or anything. I had to drop out of varsity, and we had to make do."

"Just you and him?"

"Ya. I didn't know what to do though. My granny was the one who looked after him after..." she stopped playing with her hair, hesitant to meet his eyes.

"After the accident?"

"I forgot what he was like before the accident." She shifted, curling deeper into the couch.

"He was a big mouth and he was full of shit." Is'haaq smiled, remembering a time so long ago that it he wondered if it even existed.

"Like you," she teased.

"Worse than me." He nudged her with his knee, chuckling. "Remember when we went sky diving?"

"I was so bang. Yissis, I almost peed my pants." She laughed, sitting up straighter.

"That fucker pushed me out of the plane. I went down fucking naar. Screaming fuck fuck fuck one way."

She rapped his knee with her knuckles. "It was more like fuuuuuuuuuccckkk!"

"You heard that?" He poked her with his foot.

"People on Mars heard that." She poked him back, digging her nail into the back of his knee.

The glee drained out of his face when he thought back to that night. "I should never have been driving. I should have-"

"He was high, not you." Juri shrugged.

"I only just got my license. I should never have gotten behind the wheel." He raised his knees, resting them against legs.

"You paid for it too, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "Not enough."

Juri ran her finger down the side of his thigh. "You still have it. I can feel it and I feel the one on your back too."

"But-"

She moved across the couch, wedging herself between him and the couch. "Don't do that. It was an accident and you both suffered because of it."

Is'haaq rubbed his hand over his face as he closed his eyes. "I can still smell the blood and I can still see him smashed into the windscreen. His head was just..." his voice grew thick, "His body was just broken. Everything was just broken."

Juri wrapped her arm around his chest, holding him closer to her. "Don't do this to yourself. We never blamed you and we didn't want you to blame yourself either."

"How can I not? I used to hate coming by afterwards because he was just..." he pinched his eyes closed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"He wasn't the same?"  

He shook his head.

"But it was kind of special when he did talk. He saved it for special occasions even though he couldn't really get the words right anymore." Juri said, painting small spirals onto Is'haaq's stomach with her fingertip. "And he listened to me. He could still smile and he would do that thing with his forehead whenever I said something stupid." She scrunched up her forehead and laughed when Is'haaq did the same thing. "Ya, that."

"And that thing where he used to move his ears when he trying to be a smartass?" Is'haaq asked, subconsciously trying to shift his earlobes.

"Oh ya, I used to hate that." She looked back down at his stomach, still lazily running her fingertip across it. "He used to love it when you came home. He wouldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day." She looked at him, sitting up to tower over him. "Why did you stop coming? It killed him when you stopped coming by."

Is'haaq shook his head. "I don't know. I just... I couldn't anymore. I couldn't see him like that."

"Selfish bastard." She pushed him away and stood up over him. "You're just a selfish bastard who left my brother with a broken heart." She walked off the couch and towards his room where she slammed the door behind her.

Is'haaq couldn't blame her though. she was right. He was a selfish bastard. He didn't think about what Yahya would think when he stopped going by. It wasn't even done intentionally. It just hurt so much to be around him that he began to dread the visit more and more.

And a daily visit became a weekly one which became a monthly one till he stopped going by at all. He wouldn't even meet Juri at the house. He'd meet her off campus and drive her somewhere dark so they could jump into the backseat to have their way with each other before dropping her off back at the university.

Deep inside, he knew it was why he cheated on Juri with Farah. And when Farah told him that she was pregnant it was as if all his prayers had been answered. He could run away from everything if he married Farah. He would never have to look at Yahya and know that he was the one who responsible for all of it. Essentially, he was the one who killed his best friend and he would never have to be reminded of that again.

So Juri was right. He screwed her over so he could run away from his own conscience and run away he did. He ran as far away from King William's Town as he could and found his way whatever part of Joburg they could afford.

He walked to their room and leaned his head against the door. "Please open the door."

"Fuck off."

"Please, Juri."

"No!" she banged the door causing his head to bump against it. "Fuck off!"

"Please. I'll do anything. Just please open up."

It was silent save for her fingertips clicking against the wood. "Anything?"

"Ya."

The key turned in the lock and she opened the door. "I want you to tell me something that's going to hurt you." She peeped from behind the door. "Can you do that?"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

She opened the door before she walked to the ottoman beside his cupboard. "How did it feel when your wife had a miscarriage?"

His heart stopped.

He licked his lips, hesitant. "Farah didn't take it well."

"I don't give a fuck about Farah. How did you feel?" She leaned forward, watching him.

He made his way to the bed, perching on the corner to face her. "It was shit. That was my baby and I was excited about it."

"You felt shit?" she quirked her eyebrow.

"Ya. I didn't know what to do. I had to just watch it happen."

"What do you mean?"

He leaned over, resting his head between his knees as he thought about that day. "She was almost ten weeks pregnant when it happened. She was sitting and when she stood up there was blood on her chair, so I took her to the hospital and the baby was already dead by then."

"And then?" she moved closer, bringing the ottoman with her.

"She kept on bleeding. The d and c was only scheduled for the day after that so we had to go home and she just kept on bleeding and I sometimes wonder when the baby itself came out or if it came out at home." 

"Is that what you meant when you said you were used to it?"

He nodded. "She didn't take it well. After the d and c, she couldn't even shower or eat or change. She was just..."

"Empty?"

"Ya, empty. I didn't know how to help her or what to do to make her feel better." He looked up at her and his eyes were bright. "And a few days later, she started screaming and when I got there, she told me to look. And she took of her bra and she had this massive smile and when I looked down at her, she had breast milk. She thought that maybe it was all just a stupid mistake. She thought the baby was still alive. So I took her back to the hospital and when they told her that it can happen after a miscarriage, it was as if she lost the baby all over again."

"And what did you do then?" she rested her elbows on her knees and leaned over her palms, just watching him.

"What could I do? She was a mess. She wouldn't stop screaming and she wouldn't even let me go near her. So, I waited until she stopped, and I picked her up and I got into bed with her and we just..."

"You really wanted the baby?"

He rubbed his eyes and passed his palm across his nose. "At first not really. We got married a few days after she found out and I was still reeling from that. Then as the days went by, it became a bit more exciting." He cracked his knuckles and then cracked them all over again. "But I feel as if I'm a hypocrite. How could I feel sad about something I didn't really want until a few weeks before?"

"You're not a hypocrite." She took his hands, stilling his knuckle-cracking. "It's okay to feel sad. Don't apologise for that."

Is'haaq smiled, a sad smile, before he kissed her fingertips.

"What did you do after that?"

"We got drunk a lot and we went out a lot. We did everything we could to forget about it until we didn't even think about it anymore. That was probably when we realised, we didn't even really love each other."

He pulled her off the ottoman and onto his lap before he wrapped his arms around her.

"What if I was pregnant?"

"What?" he released her.

"What if I was pregnant, what would you do? Would you marry me?"

Is'haaq turned her body to face him. "Are you pregnant?"

Juri leaned back out of his hold. "Answer the question first."

"Sure, if you wanted me to."

She simply nodded her head before she moved closer to him and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"So, are you pregnant?"

"No. I told you I was on the pill."

"Oh." He hugged her to him once more. "Okay.

Then, her phone rang.