Her room door slowly opened revealing Salman.
He was dressed in a pair of shorts and a simple tee shirt.
"Assalamualaikum," She greeted once she noticed him. "Why are you still in those?"
"Are you going somewhere?" He asked back as she scurried past through him before grabbing her shoes from the rack that hung high on the wall.
"Yes?" She made it sound more like a question and returned to the dresser.
His brows slowly began to crease together.
"Where?" He needed to know.
"I'm late, school of course," Her eyes glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Lesson starts in a couple of minutes, dress up and..." She trailed off.
"You know what, I'll just take the bus." She picked her handbag and student ID up before approaching the door.
"Do you really like school this much?" His grip on her wrist prevented her from moving.
He didn't look back.
"Yes Salman, I like school this much. Now can you..."
"More than your health?" He turned to look at her this time.
Silence.
"Salman, please I..." He cut her short again.
"You need to rest. Missing a day or two from school won't kill you."
"It actually will, that's why I need to go now." His grip on her wrist loosened.
At least I won't be as mentally drained as I am here while I'm at school.
Just one of her million excuses.
The sound of the lock caught her attention.
She had zoned out for a bit.
"Let's see whether you go to school now or stay home and rest." He sled the bunch into the side pocket of his shorts.
Umaymah turned to her husband who was now sitting on the edge of her bed.
Did they really have to do this right now?
She stared at him for a couple of minutes.
Not a glare nor a stare of admiration.
The stare held nothing.
A long sigh came from Umaymah afterwards.
That kind of sigh you let out when you know you just have to give in.
She flung the bag on her shoulder across the bed then slowly dragged her feet to her study desk.
Umaymah settled on the suede chair and placed her elbows on the desk.
She brought her head forward and buried her face in her palms.
Salman was right.
She did need rest.
A lot of rest at that.
She drew in a reasonable amount of air and exhaled heavily again.
"I took a leave from work, AJ will handle the office," he felt the need to tell her even though she never asked.
Umaymah didn't respond.
He got up on his feet with the keys now in his palm.
"I'll make us something to drink," he waited for a reply but nothing came. "Green tea for you and coffee for me." He added before exiting her room.
After some minutes, Salman returned to the room.
He had a tray balanced on one palm and a small pile of boxes on his other palm.
Umaymah was now sitting on her bed.
She had sled off her shoes and untied her scarf which was now swung over the headboard of the bed.
Her eyes travelled to Salman's figure before instantly returning to the big window frame across the room.
Salman gently placed the tray in his left hand on the gray ottoman by the foot of Umaymah's bed.
He picked the mug that contained hot steamy green tea and walked to the bed.
He stretched out his hand that held the mug towards her.
"Let's go to the living room." He suggested.
The atmosphere in the room held tension and a sorrow sort of vibe.
"I'm fine here." She was now in her comfort position.
Salman was silent for a while before saying
"Then we'll stay here." He climbed the soft bed.
Umaymah turned to look at him then slowly moved her eyes to the boxes that he had placed between them.
"I ordered takeouts." A small smile was lifted on Salman's lips.
"I'm not hungry."she collected the mug and turned back to continue staring at the window.
Salman ignored her now usual and often uttered sentence as he opened one of the three boxes.
Umaymah stretched out her legs but the place she was staring at didn't change.
"Here, chicken and cheese topping," Salman picked up a slice and placed the box on Umaymah's lap.
Her head turned towards him for the fourth time since his presence in her room that morning.
"I said I'm not..."
"You don't have to be hungry to eat," He had a piece of chicken in his mouth. "You have to eat because you need it." He was staring at her.
Another sigh from Umaymah.
Salman got up and got a hold of his coffee before taking a loud slurp from it.
"You should try coffee someday," he took another slurp from his mug. "You know, something new for a change." His thin smile appeared again.
Something new for a change?
That sentence sunk deep into the depth of her heart.
Umaymah's face immediately took an even more disinterested look.
"I really don't want to eat Salman." She placed the box of pizza back between them and took a sip from her cup of tea instead.
"Ummi, if you don't want to eat, that's fine by me," he wiped the corners of his mouth with a tissue.
"But you need to eat."
He placed his mug on the nightstand before pulling up another large greasy slice of cheesy pizza and held it in front of his wife's mouth.
Her eyes moved from the slice of pizza in his hands to his black orb eyes and back.
"Ahh...Come on." He nodded with the same previous smile back on his face.
Another sigh escaped from Umaymah's mouth.
She held out her hand in front of the pizza.
Salman handed it to her.
She scrutinized the slice as if still contemplating whether or not to eat it.
"Here, this is yours." Salman slowly glided the largest of all the three boxes to Umaymah until it can in contact with the side of her hip.
She turned to look at the box then carried on with her eating.
After taking the last bite of the slice and sipping some of her green tea, she got up on her feet and emerged into the bathroom to wash her hands.
When she returned back to the room, Salman was still on the bed but only that now he had a chicken nugget in his mouth.
She slowly sat on the bed and pulled the box Salman had given her closer.
It was already unsealed so she just opened the box.
The dress Samirah was talking about.
The dress was indeed carefully chosen.
It was elegant, simple and modest all at once.
She ran her soft fingers on the silk material.
The colour as white as snow.
She pulled the dress out of the box and admired it.
She wanted all her attention to be focused on the dress as a distraction from her harmful thoughts.
Then a paper in the corner of the box caught her attention.
She grabbed it and opened it.
After reading the content, her gaze shifted to Salman.
The rate at which she looked Salman straight in the eyes was slowly becoming unusual.
"Samirah the tough lady." A small chuckle left him.
Yusuf...
Umaymah took a couple of steps forward until she stopped right in front of her full length mirror while holding the flawless dress in front of her figure.
A small smile finally appeared on her face after days of sulking.
"Do you like it?" Salman had another slice in his hand.
She nodded lightly without turning to face him.
"I love it." Her voice was low.
"I love you too my love, have a peaceful and blissful marriage, my regards to Salman."
The dress immediately fell from her hold and the smile on her face disappeared instantly.
She stared at herself in the mirror and watched as tears began filling her eyes.
Her knees immediately grew weak making her slump to the floor.
"Ummi." Salman's voice came.
He jerked up from the bed and hastily walked to where she was.
Thin stream of tears slowly rolled down her cheeks.
Salman simply used his hands to wipe her tears without uttering anything.
He gently helped her up and took her to the bed.
After transferring the items on the bed to the desk in the corner of the room, he put her to lay down and crawled beside her.
Their faces were facing one another and several tears didn't seize to roll from her eyes.
She sniffed.
Salman shook his head as if telling her not to cry.
He used his thumb to clear her tears again.
She immediately buried her face in her arm that was under her cheek and the intensity of the cry slowly increased.
Salman moved closer and embraced her in his hold.
He gently soothed her hair and kissed it repeatedly while muttering "It's alright."
More sniffs came from her then she paused.
"She sent her regards earlier Salman," the sniffling slowly started again. "I forgot to tell you." Then she bursted into another fist of cry.
The one that you could feel it almost choking you at the bottom of you throat.
"I'm selfish Salman."
Her mental health was gradually depreciating.