Days passed in an almost mechanical routine. Rehema woke up early to tend to the baby, the weight of exhaustion in her every movement. The nights were the hardest. Ali would come home late, only to collapse into bed beside her without a word. The silence between them grew heavier, suffocating her, and she felt it in her bones—this wasn't how love was supposed to feel. But what could she do? How could she fix this? How could she fight for a love that felt like it was slipping through her fingers?
That night, after Ali had come and gone, Rehema stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. The reflection staring back at her was tired, worn, her eyes dull with a mixture of hurt and resignation. She had spent so much time trying to hold everything together, to be the woman everyone expected her to be, but it was taking a toll. She didn't know who she was anymore.
The door creaked open behind her, and she turned to find her mother-in-law standing in the doorway. "Rehema," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "I think we need to talk."
Rehema sighed, her shoulders heavy. "About what, Mama?"
"I've been watching you," Ali's mother began, stepping into the room. "You've been trying to hold everything together, and I see it. But you can't keep pretending, my daughter. You deserve more than this."
Rehema's breath hitched, her eyes filling with tears. "What do you mean? I've tried. I've tried so hard, but it's like Ali doesn't even care anymore. He doesn't care about me, about the baby... I don't even think he cares about our marriage."
Mama sighed deeply and took a seat beside Rehema on the bed. "You're not wrong, Rehema. Ali... he's not the same man he used to be. But sometimes, we have to accept that people change. We can't control them, no matter how much we love them."
Rehema looked away, biting her lip as the tears threatened to spill. "I've tried so hard to keep this family together. I've tried to be the wife he needs. I thought if I gave him everything, he would love me the way I loved him."
Mama placed a hand on her shoulder. "And sometimes, love is not enough. Sometimes, we hold on to people who are slipping away from us because we are afraid of what will happen if we let go. But, Rehema, you need to ask yourself—what are you holding on to? Is it really love, or is it just fear? Fear of being alone, fear of failing, fear of being unworthy."
---
The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Rehema felt the weight of her mother-in-law's words settle in her chest. She had been so focused on holding everything together that she hadn't allowed herself to consider the truth—that maybe, just maybe, holding on to Ali was not the answer.
But the truth was a bitter pill to swallow. If she let him go, what would be left? Would she be able to build a life on her own? Could she still find happiness?
"I don't know what to do," Rehema whispered, her voice barely audible. "I feel like I'm drowning, and I don't know how to keep afloat anymore."
Mama pulled her into a hug, the warmth of her embrace a small comfort. "You don't have to have all the answers right now, Rehema. Just take it one step at a time. You are not alone in this. You have your family, your strength, and your own worth."
---
As the night drew on, Rehema found herself lying awake, the weight of Mama's words heavy on her heart. She couldn't deny the truth that had settled deep within her soul. She had been holding on to a dream, a hope that things would get better. But hope was not a plan. And love—her love for Ali—was not enough to change the course of their lives.
She closed her eyes, allowing herself to grieve for the life she had imagined, the marriage she had hoped for. But somewhere deep down, she knew it was time to make a choice. A choice that would change everything.
She couldn't control Ali. She couldn't make him love her. But she could control herself. She could choose to love herself, to build a future that was not dependent on the man who had once been her everything.
---
The next morning, Rehema woke up with a renewed sense of determination. The baby was crying again, and she moved quickly to tend to him, her mind focused. The day would unfold as it always did, but something had shifted inside of her. She was no longer waiting for Ali to change. She was no longer waiting for a man who was emotionally absent.
"Sometimes, the hardest thing you'll ever do is to let go of the person you thought you'd never live without. But in letting go, you give yourself the space to grow, to heal, and to become the person you were always meant to be."