15. 𝑺𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒘'𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑴𝒓𝒔 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒂?

It's been an odd few days, the emotional distance between Hassan and me that initially seemed like mere paranoia has steadily grown.

Hassan's behavior has taken a turn for the worst . It all started with the first cancellation, and since then, it's been a cascade of impromptu online business meetings in France that he couldn't afford to miss. Each day, he would leave early, returning late at night when I was usually fast asleep.

Under normal circumstances, I could understand his CEO responsibilities and the demands of leading a company. However, it's the emotional detachment that leaves a sinking feeling within me.

During the limited times I see Hassan, he barely acknowledges me. Even during our Fajr prayers, he seems tense, taking unusually long as if he wants to push off being ready in order to not see me. Even attempts to engage in conversation result in one or two-word responses before he claims he has to leave.

What was supposed to be a honeymoon has quickly turned from the best days of my life to the worst. Questions swirl in my mind – did expressing my love too soon create this distance? He reciprocated with genuine happiness, so what has changed? Where did we go wrong?

This week has been an emotional rollercoaster, nights filled with tears and a constant sense of hurt. Questions linger – what did I do wrong? Is this a trial from Allah, my test on this earth? I deliberately avoided relationships before marriage to escape heartbreak, but am I destined to experience it anyway? What was the point of my efforts then?

My thoughts are interrupted by the intercom, shifting my focus as it goes on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. On behalf of the entire flight crew, I'd like to welcome you aboard AirFrance flight AF123. We are thrilled to have you with us today. We're currently preparing for takeoff, so we kindly ask you to fasten your seatbelts and ensure your seatbacks and tray tables are in the upright position. The weather conditions look promising for our flight, and we anticipate a smooth journey. Thank you for choosing AirFrance, and we wish you a pleasant and enjoyable journey with us today."

Our one week honeymoon was finally over and even though at the beginning I didn't want to leave, I was actually happy to leave this place that had me feeling all alone and crying myself to sleep. Alhamdulilah for the experience but I'm ready to go home.

I discreetly looked at Hassan yet again, and each time, my heart clenched at the sight before me. If there was any solace to be found in how differently Hassan was treating me, it was reflected in the weariness etched across his face that showed not only I was being affected by this distance between us.

Hassan appeared utterly drained, marked by dark bags under his eyes, an aura of exhaustion enveloped him. Despite my genuine concern, I knew attempting to ask him what was wrong would be; he would just dismiss it.

As the plane started its gradual movement on the runway, panic seized me, making me squeeze my eyes shut and clutch my seat tightly. The fear of flying, despite having experienced it already, was still a nerve-wracking experience for me.

In the midst of my panic, I began counting to ten when suddenly, a warm, large hand covered mine. Without needing to open my eyes, I recognized the comforting touch instantly. How I had missed Hassan's presence these past few days – his touch, a reassuring balm that I yearned for in this moment.

A tear slid down my left eye, and I relished in the feeling of my hassan holding my hand. I closed my other hand around his, squeezing it, and he squeezed back as we sat there in silence.

I however couldn't shake the odd contrast in Hassan's behavior. His hand held mine, a gesture that brought comfort, yet it felt disconnected from the distance he kept throughout our honeymoon.

The warmth of our intertwined fingers conflicted with the emotional chill I sensed from him. And I hated the feeling. I hated that I felt this way with my husband of less than three months. I hated it.

~

Cutlery clattered against the plates as we ate breakfast, the silence as obvious as ever as we sat at the table like strangers.

Nothing really is permanent. I would have never thought things could change so quickly for sure. Where has my sweet hassan gone?

I looked up at him as he once again was not eating but was rather slumped on his chair as he stared down at the food as he moved it around absentmindedly.

"Hassan" I called firmly to get his attention.

He looked up at me for the first time since we started eating. His eyes trained at my face but not my eyes in particular.

Hassan's behavior became even more apparent as I observed a repeated pattern – the avoidance of eye contact.

It left me wondering if he feared the reflection of my pain mirrored in my gaze.

In the absence of that intimate connection through our gaze, the growing rift expanded, leaving me with unanswered questions.

"You don't like the food?" I asked, frustration clear in my tone. If only he would just communicate with me instead of giving me the silent treatment. The only times he spoke to me now was when he first woke up, when it was time to pray and when we would go to bed. If he didn't want crepes, all he had to do was say so, geez.

"I-i do. I'm just not very hungry, Sorry" He said, his voice hoarse as he slowly got up from his chair preparing to go back to the only place he seemed to want to be at, our bedroom.

When he was home, he only ever came out to pray and eat. He would close all the blinds and cover himself completely with the blanket. I missed his presence so much and I don't know how long I can take this from me. Funny how I didn't even remember this man a few months ago and now I can't imagine my days without his presence . Yet he seems fine with spending his without mine.

"Please....talk to me" I whispered, my voice cracking as I watched him walk away from me. "Please Hassan"

He faltered in his steps as he visibly became rigid and cleared his throat before responding without turning , "I just have a fever and want to lay down halimah, it's nothing to do with you" He then continues to the bedroom and shuts the door firmly behind him.

A fever yet he never drinks the medicine I bring for him. He thinks I don't know but I would find the tablets under the bed when I would leave it for him by the bed. He just lays there. Alone. In darkness. Away from me. It's like he doesn't want to be around me. What went wrong between us?

~

I'm definitely going through it. And who better to go eat treats with than someone who will make me forget all my torment.

Stepping into the cafe with her by my side , my eyes danced over the delectable treats on display. The air was infused with the heavenly scent of freshly baked goods, my mouth watering the more I looked at them.

Trays of delicate pastries, colorful macarons, and decadent cakes called to me to use them as a way to lessen the ache in me.

A smile tugged at my lips as I thought of savoring each bite. Food always made me feel better. And apparently Ayesha too if the big smile on her face is anything to go by.

We stood in line and got some treats- Ayesha got a Red velvet cake slice and a Lemon blueberry tart while I got Raspberry macarons and a salted caramel brownie. We couldn't get to our seats fast enough to start eating.

We started eating in silence but Ayesha broke it after a minute or so, "So how's married life Mrs Musa?". I froze at the suddenness of the question, but really I should have expected it.

The question I was honestly dreading from her, Ayesha could read me like a book even with my niqab on and it was not helpful at all in situations where I didn't want her all up in my space.

"Alhamdulilah, I can't complain" I replied with a false cheerful tone. I hope she doesn't catch on. I'm terrible at keeping things from her.

Ayesha looked up at me suspiciously as she licked her fingers very unladylike. My mom would pinch her if she was present.

"Why are you using the fake tone we use when speaking to our distant relatives that don't really care about us but pretend they do?" Shade.

"Girl what" I laughed trying to play it off as Ayesha continued to scrutinise me, while she ate her tart.

"I'm serious! I feel like you're hiding something from me" She exclaimed as she continued to stare me down.

I rolled my eyes as I lifted up my niqab slightly to eat my gooey brownie. So good.

A few minutes passed before she gasped as she said,

"So you brought me here because we're pregnant and you're having cravings? No wonder you're almost inhaling the food at this point. Allahuma Barikk you're pregnant already bestie. You go babe!"

I was savouring my macrons when I choked on them as her words registered and started coughing while Ayesha burst out in laughter while she gave me water to drink.

"What is wrong with you " I asked giggling as I got back to breathing normally and not wheezing.

"It was just a guess" She said shrugging with a smirk. She looked at me with narrowed eyes as she spoke again, "But you would tell me if anything was going on with you right?"

"Of course sis" And I would. When the time is right though. And I for some reason don't want to open up about what is going on with Hassan and I right now. I guess some part of me hopes whatever is going on between us comes to become a thing of the past so I could talk about it to her when it's not literally happening to me in the moment. And when I won't burst out crying when speaking about it.

Ayeesha's voice blurred into the background as I contemplated what was ahead. I couldn't deny the challenges, but in the balance of life,I saw the potential for something beautiful. Our story wasn't over – it was just waiting for a new chapter to unfold.

~

Salam🌝

Ngl I was gonna make this a darker chapter but I want this book to be mostly fluff so i reeled it back in😭😂

COMMENT and VOTE lovelies.

Bye!