"Is that truly what you want, Jadwa?" Muhammad's voice was calm, but the sharp undertone carried a challenge she wasn't prepared for. His gaze bore into hers, his dark eyes unblinking, as if daring her to confirm the words she'd just uttered.
She froze under his scrutiny, the air between them heavy with unspoken truths. Before she could form a response, he threw his head back and laughed a deep, laugh, that echoed through the room, the sound immediately sent a shiver down her spine.
"You? Me?" he chuckled, the sound reverberating in the room. "Divorce? Wallahi, Jadwa, you surprise me." He folded his arms across his chest, leaning slightly against the wall as though her words were the punchline of an absurd joke.
Her throat tightened, heat creeping up her neck. The amusement in his expression stung more than she anticipated.
"Is this how you deal with every problem? Not giving it time or grace of understanding? Just throwing around words you don't even understand?" His voice shifted, the humor fading into something sharper, more cutting. "Don't ever say that word in my house again," he said in a softer tone, if she didn't see his eyes she'd think he was pleading but he was enunciating every syllable like a blade carving into her resolve.
"Ever." The finality in his voice was unmistakable. He let the silence linger, watching her flinch under the weight of his words before he shook his head, a faint smirk still tugging at his lips. "This childishness... I don't have time for it."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her chest heaving with unspent frustration and a deepening sense of loss.
Jadwa stood there, her feet rooted to the spot. Beside her, the water she'd thrown earlier had cooled, unlike the storm brewing in her chest. She eventually made her way upstairs, bypassing his room and heading straight to hers.
She sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. What she felt in that moment was indescribable a mix of revelation and resignation. She wanted to deny it, to convince herself it wasn't real, but deep down, she knew better. He never joked about serious matters, and he had been unequivocal.
She stayed like that for long minute, her gaze fixed blankly on the door. No tears fell. Instead, a deep ache settled in her chest, accompanied by an overwhelming numbness. Her thoughts shifted to Khayrah, her mind desperately trying to rationalize her presence in the house. She wanted an explanation, even deserved one, but none had been offered. To him, she felt unworthy of such consideration she thought. Yet, she reminded herself, she was worthy of respect, whether he acknowledged it or not.
At that moment, she decided she was done trying. Even if she wanted to, she no longer had the strength.
Her phone buzzed relentlessly, breaking her from her daze. It was Hanan and Zarah. She ignored the first few calls but finally answered when they persisted.
"Hi," she said, her voice drained.
"Hi, Jadu!" Zarah greeted cheerfully.
"You just got back last night; let me breathe," Jadwa said, masking her emotions with light sarcasm, though a sharp pang coursed through her chest.
"Jadu, what's going on? You haven't done your fittings. Your stylist even reached out to me because you're not responding," Hanan complained.
Jadwa gasped, realizing she had completely forgotten. She'd seen their calls and messages but hadn't had the energy to respond. Doing even the simplest tasks felt draining.
"Please, Jadu, I need you all to slay. Why are you slacking?" Zarah groaned. "Asma, Sarah, Aya, and even Ameerah are coming in a few days. Get your fittings done, please!"
