| ×𝟏𝟏 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 |
❝Do you know the meaning of the flowers you sell, miss?❞ Ashar asked with his full focus on the flowers.
❝Not yet.❞
❝Do you know what Lavender means?❞ Mawar understood he wasn't much interested in her answers but she on...
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"As kids, we admonished and sometimes even hated people who stole a tiny bite of our favorite food. Growing up, we learn to accept that some people just will steal even with a plateful of their own. Because things don't always go the right way and we can't skid to stop for that; blame others. Life in general is so much like that." Your favorite things are taken away and all you are left with is a terrible consolation: fate. A tear made its way down his left cheek as Ashar chuckled ruefully.
After marriage, one offhand question that every couple must get used to is 'When can we expect offspring?'. Hanna and Ashar were no strangers to this. After three years of marriage, they didn't mind people asking it, they learned to ignore the ignorable. But now they also longed for the fruit of their love. Soon they realized all of their endeavors were to no avail. Worried, they resorted to prescribed medicines, advice from people with prior experiences. Superstitions and science. Until unexpectedly, Hanna was diagnosed with diminished ovarian reserve. Out of the blue, there was a taint in their perfect little world. The flame that once flickered bright and proud in their hearts, dwindled. A hope perished.
Their rapture metamorphosed into search of solace. The once sleek gliding relationship now resembled an overcrowded train. Where they hopped on holding tight onto each other. It was hot, it was crowded, it no longer was tolerable to stick closer. One flaw; two dying spirits; a thousand emotions of weakening intensity, which demanded a voice; it was a cluster indeed.
They promised to be together with pure intentions of fulfilling it too. But in the face of a crisis, with a nonchalant wave they flicked away the notion that a drift had started to form between them. That shortfall was now in the formation of a fracture. It went unnoticed, and was vetoed as a space each required by both of them. The need to be in each other's arms was overpowered by the ever growing reasoning: impotence.
While solace was the ultimate destination, the track was steep and full of scenery, small bits of life and lots of wants. Desires. When the arm holding you up is so fragile and impaired, would you lean on it? A question like this might be on the front desk , it certainly wasn't the easiest to answer.
Such a bump it was when adding salt to Hanna's grief and despondency, she was diagnosed with cancer. With a low chance of survival, she was put on ventilation. Nonplussed and lost, Ashar was mostly absent from her side, in an attempt to gather up himself on his own. One thing he was absolutely certain about was not pulling the plug no matter what.
Hanna never held a grudge against him for his unavailability, yet the patches of dried tears on her cheeks begged him for some company. For his presence in the light of the day when she was awake and aware.
Being too ashamed of his actions during the past months compelled Ashar to hide himself from her probable disappointed gaze. He tried to be as slick as possible but he knew he wasn't and so did she. The fresh pink camellias she woke up to every morning gave away his nightly visits. Along with that were the nurses' gossip and fawning over the 'enviable' love he bore for her.
Several nights, Hanna willed herself to stay awake for a glimpse of the man who till date had a firm grip on her heart. Her powerful medicines weren't agreeable to it. Frustrated with his game of hide and seek and her medicines, she skipped them at night one day. Against her body's protests, she laid there waiting.
For the first time in a while, Hanna's heart bungee jumped at the thought of meeting him. How ridiculous it was that the pair that was inseparable was now just a fragment of her memories. Now she had to betray her own body to feel him by her side. She wanted to laugh at her situation but pressed the urge back in. Only letting her agonized tears free fall.
Like any other night, Ashar came in with the flowers but this time the florist in Hanna predicted that the flowers were different. Not the usual pink camellias anymore. The distinctive smell told her they were stargazers. Ashar opening the large windows of the room was very helpful to the dizzying fragrance of the flower. She strongly wanted to open her eyes and let them bask in the blessing which is him. Instead she gripped the sheets tighter, bit her lips harder, held her breath longer and whispered sweet nothings to herself to calm her nerves.
How could Hanna hold onto someone who only knew to run away from her?
Hanna's heart thrummed in fear that he would know about her fake sleeping and would leave without a glance backward. It was crippling her ability to breath as it seemed to be stuck in her throat, unable to run past the lump. It took a wet sensation on the back of her hand to let that breath out and to relax. Sound of sobs deafened the beeping of the IV machine and all other noises.
To encounter heartbreak appeared to be a piece of cake rather than to witness the heartbreak of a lover. A part of Hanna died the moment Ashar's first sob resounded. But her soul left her body only when she dared to open her eyes. For one final time, she was exposed to love like the blooming of the first flower of Spring. In her concluding moments, she wasn't fated for her husband's love confession. But his apology in the shape of a pink stargazer was more than enough.
Maybe Ashar knew it was his last day with his beloved wife. Or maybe it was a pure coincidence. But his last message to her through the flowers was on point and apt.
༺✿༻
Hello!
It's your friendly tale teller here. I have a question, do you all know CPR? Because you took my breath away. 😉
By the way, I wink a lot. Do you have such habits that could put you in some difficult situations? I have another. I laugh when I shouldn't.
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