Qahtan's PoV

Khadeeja seems away from me all these days,she speaks so less,smiles even lesser and she isn't herself.

I'm in deep thoughts and haste.

My business Alhumdullilah is doing extremely well but as it says with money comes restlessness. I've been worrying on how to set this business more efficiently in the main stream outlook. I've been hiring new and young people with ideas and soft skills so that I can regenerate the whole brand with a fresh and youthful aesthetic.

I look at Khadeeja,she comes in and folds the towel and enters the bathroom. It isn't the girl I married or the girl I wanted to marry. Off and off this may seem a too harsh a composition of words but I'm bewildered by this 'new Khadeeja'. I've always loved the girl I thought I knew as Khadeeja.

I love her name,I love her smile,I love her gentleness,her manners,her slow walk,her shy smile,her little fingers,the way she worries about everyone, the incandescent ,the anxiety driven Khadeeja,she's my favorite. With all her fab's and all her flaws I have and always will love her.

The first time since I admired her in a different way in my teen days, she hasn't been the same for me,I loved how when all the girls where composite of the high driven Fashion,she stayed true to the authentic modesty. I loved that she never conveyed a single gesture to leave me a hint that she loves,while I had been waiting along for that. I've never doubted Khadeeja to be less patient,or inconsistent in any work. I truly appreciate the beauty she possess inside and outside.

Mum's saying she's been acting differently, I too can see so.
I sigh the empty silence that now fills our room which by past months was lively with our chattering laughter,I miss ourselves.

I keep rehearsing our Start of marriage till this date and I'm only failing to understand what has really happened.  Because for me she has changed,for everyone has she changed; then her change is not to be questioned.  Why would my Khadeeja turn hee back like that.

I'm only hearing complaints about her but my heart does not possess the courage to speak to the woman I have married to keep happy; to ask her why is she sad. I shouldn't ask,I should fix this. This is my responsibility.  She is my responsibility.

"Khadeeja..."  I held her hand as she sat beside and now she doesn't even look at me. It feels frighteningly uneasy.

"is something bothering you Khadeeja?"  I asked as she cringed and her face changed.

"who said so?" she asked.

Here it fails. She does not want to fix this,she doesn't even want to let me see what is broken.

"nobody said nothing, I see you worried"

"no,I'm good. How was your day?"
She took her hands away.

Her hands away.....like she takes her hands away from me,like they don't belong to me,like she likes them more safe in her arrest,like her hands are hers......

No matter what I try,I cannot find further.

I touched her shoulders, she pretends to sleep. So I let her pretend. This is not good.......

I turned back and switched off my side lamp. A dull  12:03 am blinks on the side clock as I slip to the inconvenience of a dream however better than my reality .

Baraaq's Pov

I parked the car and sigh. Like life was any worse before than now, it only gets more tormenting.

The street light keep blinking,it frustrates me. Why doesn't anybody fix this or anything at all!

The broken Street clock strikes a rough 1:08 am.

I hate coming home.

I entered inside. The chaos and the grumble is still aloud.
I greet amma and baba. I sat with them, my head pulling apart in pain.

The kids screaming and running across.  I notice my sister's kid.

"Barkha here?" I asked amma.

"yes,she's here for the vacations" she replied.

My head falls to the back. I am extremely tired.

She comes in a little later and looks at me.
"can't even greet your sister? I've come a long way after months now"
She speaks saltily.

"I'm sorry. How are you?"
I asked.

"I'm good." she says showing no sign of appreciation.

I walked to my room. The ceiling thumping with the kids running down and up the stairs.
Lord have mercy.

I sneak outside the room.
Raidah is nowhere to be seen.

I freshened myself. Opened my computer and searched for a job.
And now the possibility of the coming reactions haunt me. My heart becomes so heavy and tighten my breath inside that I feel no other choice than to cry it out.

I lost my job today.

I look outside and there's nowhere to rest my head on.  Nobody who'd say if you wouldn't do it, I would do it.

This was coming, I knew it.
I don't have money,no savings. No energy or passion to give in a new job.
I am hopeless.

I shut the computer and sat upright wiping my face.

Raidah came with the dinner and sat close.

If in the least sense I could speak the truth to Raidah,the only sentiment I have for her is only pity.

I can't make myself love her. She is extremely opposite to what I wanted for myself and these people.

I cannot tell her I don't love her. Allah has written a lot of tests for me but she is the hardest. In all day I wonder only how life would be without her; I can feel that feeling itself makes me feel better.

She is not amongst the pious. She is not anything to stitch the family together.  She is selfish.  Nor does she care for my family nor is any good to me. I know she feels the same. Even if she does love me; I know she doesn't but even if she would, that love is too less for me. I cannot see that love. Far away pity and pity in her eyes for me. Disgust for this house. Her arrogance doesn't lie down. It never faints. She isn't soft. She lacks grace. Something in me hates her for her lack of feminity. I maybe wrong but I see her stern and very empty. I've never liked woman like her,I've hated woman like her. Being married to her somehow makes me want to be cut in the throat.

I adjust myself on the bed. I watch her untie her scarf in utmost irritation and then she sighed deeply and laying beside pressed her lips.

I don't think I can do this anymore.  This marriage can't be dragged further.

"Raidah,I wanted to say something but it's likely to be ;I've been unable to word this...."  my voice uttered without the the permit.

Do I have the courage to leave this woman. I heard myself plead inside to get rid of her. I've been waiting almost since the day of my wedding to do this,I do not like her.

Then why tie her?

"Raidah,this isn't working.. And I am trying but..."
She placed her finger over my mouth.

Like she knew what I was about say between my nervous breath.

"I'm pregnant"  she whispered in my ear.

She turned away and covered the sheet o'er her face.

I cannot put into words how devastated I felt upon hearing a news I so frighteningly prayed to avoid. My words have never matched to my truth and the truth is I do not want this child or Raidah or this marriage anymore.

I could hear her sob in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep nor could she. We were mourning the entire darkness.  Something About this new life inside her was killing us softly. 
This child was nowhere to be in my life because excepting this child would be like excepting Raidah...... I couldn't do it anymore.  I want to remarry and to a better spouse. With these suffocating thoughts tears ran to my sides. I do not want this child.....

I dreamt of a happy family with a happy woman who when I'd see her; her essence would please me. Someone of my status,someone who I could easily please. Somebody who's beauty wouldn't intimidate me. Who wouldn't come with a guilt gift to me. Somebody of my heart like who would love to see me,hear me. Her life wouldn't be a compromise. She would be happy and grateful to Allah in if,the very I'd have.

Children with her,just like her.
She is not anything I'd love.