Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 23

I widen my eyes. "How do you know?" I regret my words as soon as they leave my mouth. Why didn't I say something else? Why couldn't I have said that I don't care about his relationship? The only thing I care about is what he will do to me. What he has done. What I have done.

"That's for me to know and you to find out, angel," he conceals, and I have an urge to hit him, but I resist obviously.

"You are hopeless, Azar," I state, too exhausted to argue. My eyes are feeling heavy, and my head is aching. "If I ask you why you didn't marry Mishal instead of me, you are never going to answer. If I ask you why you lied to me about your break-up when I don't even care, you won't still answer me."

"Abeer," he pauses, and I alertly look at him. Azar only takes my name when it is something serious. "You want to be a jealous teenager, you can be. It will only amuse me, and it will only convince me further that you wanted this. Consider this as a friendly warning, Abeer." The seriousness of his tone melts my anger, and instead, it is replaced by fear and confusion. "Don't fall for me or try to earn my love. And if you have already fallen, then don't expect anything from me; anything at all. I don't love you."

Love. How can I explain to him that I never expect love? Hatred is what I signed up for anyways. Hatred is the language I understand more. I am still surprised by how bluntly Azar spoke. "Thank you for your warning," I try my best not to sound bitter, but hearing you are not loved, especially by your husband the first day, saddens me no matter what. "But you don't have to worry, Azar. I have not fallen for you, and I won't try to earn your love as you put it. It would be better if you come out of your bubble and see it for yourself." This is the most calmly I have ever spoken to him.

"You know, angel..." I fist my hands but don't roll my eyes. Azar notices this and opens my fist. I don't struggle because we are in public. "You don't need to try so hard to hide your jealousy." He pauses and looks at my ring. He plays with it as he continues, "I love Mishal and will always love her. I would say sorry for breaking your heart, but I am not sorry."

I don't know what to say. What can a newly wedded wife say to her husband when he openly declares love for another woman? I don't know how to make him understand. I would have tried to make him realize that his relationship with Mishal is haram and will only cause him and her pain and pile up their sins, but he hates when I talk about Islam. And can I really blame him for marrying me? I was ready to sacrifice myself, and my heart for Maliha, and I did. I decided to accept his hatred. Even if it hurts, how much can it?

If I hadn't agreed, Azar could have never forced me into this. I have no right to be angry at him for something I did. And so with no hard feelings, for humanity's sake, for another fellow Muslim's sake, I pray to You Oh Allah, Oh An-Nur to show him the light as I can't show him the light, and Oh Al Hadi, I pray to You to guide him as I can't guide him, and Oh Al Ghani, I pray to You to bring him closer to You as all I do and say, pushes him further away from You. So I am going to stay away and not try, and I leave to You all my affairs. Ameen.

"You suddenly became quiet," Azar's voice brings me out of my mind. "Do you want me to be sorry for you, to pity you?"

"No," I say abruptly. "I hate sympathy, and I don't care about you or Mishal."

"You are terrible at lying," he says with a small chuckle, repeating what he said earlier.

"And you are absolutely terrible at judgment of character," I retort aloud. I see shock flash across his eyes, but he quickly replaces it with indifference.

"Abeer Api, Azar Bhai, can we take a picture with you two?" Sana approaches the stage.

"Yeah sure," Azar agrees immediately almost, and Jana and Sana come up and take a few selfies.