Once In A Blue Moon

23 Brave

God, I want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn't it? All that time.

— Casey McQuiston

☾

The simple platinum ring studded with emarald lie in her open palm as she stares at it. Her wedding ring. She remembers loathing even the sight of it, let alone ever consider wearing it on her finger. It was never beautiful to her-- never up to her standard or taste. She remembers considering dumping it multiple times, but every time something stopped her. One time, her husband himself. She feels like drowning in shame.

Banafsha looks at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a mess and her eyes red from crying too much-- this is probably the worst she has ever looked in her age. With trembling hands, she pats down her hair and then glances at the ring again-- it appears elegant to her now. But instead of putting it on, she opens the dressing table drawer and place it in it, closing the drawer and leaning forward against the dressing table, gazing at her reflection vacantly once more.

All the memories play in her head like a movie, every moment she has spend with Mikael, from their nikah night to the night before of his revelation. What once were sweet meetings with him and the process of falling for him are suddenly unsettling. There is love, and there is betrayal. And unfortunately, mistrust is a reckless beast, tearing apart everything in its wake.

All this time of them being married, she had seen the love he had for his late wife. Mikael wasn't over her even after so long. And she cannot believe she was jealous of a dead woman-- maybe still is. She thought men like him who love so insanely must have their hearts created from the clay of heaven. She thought of Mikael to be one such man. And thus, she craved the intensity of his love for herself-- she wanted something she never had in life. And suddenly she realizes, maybe despite all things, love is painful still. Despite the ecstasy of it, loving someone brings the risk of losing them too, and it can cost one's life and solace. She never prepared for it.

And now, when everything is in the open, she's at a dead end having to go back and walking over all the thorns she has planted, bleed crimson, and try to fix things, no matter if she fails and dies. Mikael has left no choice for her.

"Argh!"

She runs her hand over the dressing table surface and throws away all the accessories to the floor in her frenzy and rage. Everything falls down with loud clashes, a perfume bottle tumbling and rolling away behind her and all her nail polishes falling to her feet, the flower vase broken and the lilies lying scattered. She breathes heavily, finding her lungs low on oxygen. She feels like a bygone soul stuck between the worlds.

"What is this behavior, Afsha?"

She glances up into the mirror and finds her mother standing in her doorway. Zuleikha kneels down to pick up the perfume bottle and walks towards her, placing it back on the table. Banafsha stands back quietly.

"What has become of you?" Zuleikha looks at her in dismay. "You've never been like this."

"I haven't ever been married before this," she responds lowly. "I haven't loved before now."

"Banafsha." Her mother holds her arms and she meets her eyes. "You're my darling daughter, jaan. Zama shahzadgy (my princess). We've never denied you anything. But this, what you're asking for us now, is too much."

"Okay." She shrugs casually. "Then I'll ask for something else."

"What?"

"You can't give it to me, mama. I'll ask Mughis lala. Or I'll request Pari to ask Nufail lala."