Two Tribes

62: Rough Patch

SURPRISE!!!

In the dark room, Jameel sat on the edge of his bed; his face etched with deep lines of frustration. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead, bearing witness to the heated exchange he had just experienced with Afrah. A trace of despair lingered in his eyes, reflecting the turmoil within. He had gotten so angry that he wanted to damn all consequences and utter the two words that would forever change his life. The smirk on her face when she dared him to divorce her was still haunting it. It was a smirk of mockery for she knew he wouldn't be able to do it. She looked into his eyes and dared him to do it, yet he couldn't.

Exasperated, Jameel held his head between his hands and growled. He had never felt so weak in his entire life. He felt like the weakest person on the surface of the earth. Afrah had managed to push all of his buttons, exploit all of his vulnerabilities, and left him stranded in his feelings.

Jameel had always prided himself on his strength, both physical and emotional, but now, all of it seemed to have crumbled away.

"Are your hands tied? Do it! If you're man enough, do it, Jameel. I double dare you!"

Afrah's words echoed in his mind; her voice taunting him with every passing second. She had a way of getting under his skin, knowing exactly which buttons to press to provoke a reaction. She knew how much he loved her and had decided to take advantage of that. Her precision in dismantling his self-confidence was nothing short of brutal.

Jameel clenched his fists, feeling more anger bubbling up inside him. It wasn't just her words that wounded him. It was the way she looked at him; the contempt in her eyes made him question his worth in her life.

Taking a deep breath, Jameel tried to gather whatever strength that remained within him. He knew he couldn't allow Afrah's words to define him. He had to find a way to rise above this feeling of weakness and regain control. Even if it meant rebuilding from the ground up, Jameel was determined to prove to himself that he was stronger than he had ever believed.

Still lost in the depths of his anguish, a soft creaking sound broke through the suffocating silence.

Without looking up to see who it was, he yelled; "Afrah, get out!"

"It's me," Najah's soft voice made him calm down a little.

Again, Jameel felt stupid for he had expected Afrah to follow him and attempt to sort out their differences.

Najah approached him cautiously, her steps gentle and deliberate, as if afraid to disturb the fragile state of his emotions. The warmth of her touch brushed against his trembling shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine. "Jameel," Her voice, soft and tender, whispered words of solace, like a gentle melody amidst the chaos. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not," he answered. "It feels like my head is about to explode."

Standing in front of him, Najah pulled his head to her chest; her hands wrapped around it. "Everything is going to be fine," she whispered. "You're going to be fine. Just take a deep breath and breathe out.

Jameel closed his eyes, taking in Najah's scent. For some reason, it was soothing. He could feel his anger slowly diminishing and being replaced by sadness.

"Do you feel better now?"

Jameel nodded against her chest. "Did you hear our voices?"

"Uhm..." She replied. "It was like a shouting competition. I'm sure the neighbors heard too. I didn't even know you were back," her fingers caressed his face. "Until I heard your voice. What happened?"