My life began in simplicity. I yearned for what any average girl would dream to become, in a world where expectations flourish, yet still being gullible to realise.
Like a princess, or even possibly a narcissistic little girl who wants everything t...
One day you're living your life, and the next, you're living someone else's. Who knew I'd end up in such a pitiful world?
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Stirring the almost-prepared soup, she looked around for the salt and pepper. For the nth time, loose strands of hair made their way to her eyes, requiring a swat or two to remove the disturbance. Upon finishing the food preparation, she placed the dish on a reflective, steel tray and walked around the kitchen benchtop.
Slowly, as she stepped into the lounge, his combed hair came into view. With care, she maintained a befitting distance from him whilst setting the tray on the coffee table. The volume of the television - blaring with the voices of news reporters and devastated victims of ongoing crises - was reduced. She felt his intense gaze upon her, as it usually had been.
"Salam," he whispered with a croaky voice - one tainted by the flu - an expected result of the chilly weather.
"Wa Alaikum Alsalam." She didn't bother looking at him, and instead, hastily tied his bib around his neck, and thus, proceeded to feed him.
Albeit, a few bites later and his head turned away from her. She inspected his pained expression, perplexed, then promptly looked away unbothered. "Do you fear to look at me?" She remained silent in recognition of his mood that morning. "Why do you always have that look of revulsion? Is my situation that intolerable to you?" he said, referring to his current seating in a fairly used wheelchair.
"You must be full." Immediately disregarding his questions in a monotone, the patient wife dusted herself, preparing to pack up his meal. He sighed and parted his lips for more soup, deciding that he should resort to silence if he didn't want to starve to death. After she was done serving him, she cleaned up and strolled away.
However, she halted when he called out to her. "Noor."
"What?"
"Let's solve this between us. We've been married for six years now."
She chuckled in ridicule, "Exactly. You've lost your chance, even with ample time." She scrunched her face into an angry frown, continuing her stroll to the kitchen.
She quickly remembered that the mail had arrived earlier in the morning; she fixed her hijab on her head and jogged out to the porch. With the mail finally in hand, she whipped the packet open to reveal her most awaited delivery. She smiled as if it was some sort of grant for freedom or prize she had the honour of winning. This was the first time in a long while that she eagerly wished to speak to her husband, so she made her way to where he sat, grin and all.
"Salih~ I've got a surprise for you!" At that, her husband's eyes shot up at her in shock. It was the first time his wife spoke in such a cheery manner. He wondered what the cause of her cheeriness was, so he remained still, hoping for the best; that is, to return to how things were between them.
She finally brought her hands forward and awaited his reaction, a sly smirk permanent and shameless upon her features. His eyes, after scanning the paper anxiously, made their way to hers. He was at a loss for words.
"D-divorce?" His chin shook with the audacity of the word.
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