The day had been quiet. Too quiet. Rehema sat on the edge of the couch, her son nestled in her arms, the weight of the past few weeks weighing heavily on her. She had started to carve a new path for herself—small steps, but they were steps. The baking classes, the small savings. And yet, her heart felt a little heavier each time Ali wasn't there. She couldn't deny that she missed him—missed the man she married, the man she thought would always be by her side. But that man seemed so distant now, buried under the weight of his own faults and her growing need to find her own way.
Suddenly, the door creaked open. Her heart skipped a beat. Ali.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her. There was something in his eyes—a mixture of regret, uncertainty, and hope. She met his gaze without speaking, waiting for him to make the first move.
"Rehema," Ali said quietly, stepping inside. His voice was thick, like he was struggling to find the right words. "Can we talk?"
Rehema didn't respond immediately. Her fingers ran gently over her son's soft hair, the familiar comfort of him grounding her. "Talk about what, Ali?" she asked, her voice calm but with a slight edge of exhaustion.
Ali hesitated, then took a seat beside her on the couch. The silence between them stretched for a moment before he spoke again. "I know things haven't been... easy. I know I've made mistakes. And I'm sorry. I should've been there for you, for us."
Rehema's gaze softened. She knew he was trying, in his own way. But trying wasn't enough anymore. "You're sorry," she repeated. "You say that every time, Ali. But nothing changes."
"I know," he admitted, his voice low. "But I need you to know that I want to change. I want to be better. For you. For our son."
Rehema exhaled slowly, staring at the floor. She couldn't ignore the tenderness in his voice, the vulnerability she hadn't heard in a long time. But the wounds were still fresh, still raw. She wasn't sure if she could forgive him, not yet. Not for the nights he came home late, for the way he compared her to another woman, for the coldness he'd shown when she needed him most.
"You say you want to change," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But what are you doing to make that change happen?"
Ali looked at her, his eyes searching. "I don't know yet. I'm trying to figure that out. But I can't do it without you, Rehema. I can't do it alone."
Rehema shook her head. "You've never been alone, Ali. You've always had me. But where were you when I needed you? When I was falling apart, you weren't there."
Ali's expression faltered, guilt washing over his face. "I know. I should've been. I failed you."
The room felt suffocating for a moment, the weight of everything they had been through hanging in the air like a thick fog. Rehema took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I'm not sure I can keep living like this, Ali. I don't want to wait for you to change anymore. I need to live for myself."
He reached out, his hand brushing her arm gently. "I don't want you to leave, Rehema. I don't want to lose you."
Rehema's heart tightened. She could feel his desperation, his fear of losing her, but it wasn't enough anymore. She had to make herself a priority. She had to find a way to rebuild herself, without depending on him to fix her. "I'm not leaving you, Ali," she said softly, looking up at him. "But I need space. I need to find my own way, to remember who I am without you."
Ali's face twisted in pain. "I don't want you to have to do that. I want to help you. I want to be there for you, for us."
She shook her head, her voice firm. "You can't be there for me unless I can be there for myself first."
There was a long silence between them, thick with emotions neither of them knew how to handle. Ali finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, Rehema. I'll give you the space you need. But please... don't give up on us."
She met his gaze, feeling a flicker of hope deep within her. Maybe this wasn't the end. Maybe it was just the beginning of something different. She wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was taking control of her own life.
"I'm not giving up on us, Ali," she said softly, her hand resting gently on his. "But I have to stop living in the shadows. I have to start living for me."
Ali nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow and hope. "I'll wait for you, Rehema. I'll wait as long as it takes."
Rehema stood up, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of his words, but she knew that this was her moment. It was her time to step into the light. "I'll see you later, Ali," she said quietly, turning away.
---
"Sometimes, to truly love someone, you first have to learn to love yourself. And in doing so, you'll discover the strength you never knew you had."