Written in the Stars (17 page)

I
spend the night staring out the window, trying to think of options, alternatives, but nothing comes to mind. My heart sinks when the pink tint of morning arrives. The house is still silent.

No one knows. Yet.

I pace the house. Amin should be home in the morning. Saba hasn’t said anything to her mother. She’s waiting for Amin, I’m sure. She wants to be the one to tell him. I need to stall her for just today. I need to not leave Amin’s side, so she has no chance to corner him.

I hear a dull thud. The sound of a car door shutting outside. I move to the foyer just as the front door creaks open. It’s Amin. He steps in, fresh-faced and smiling in a gray suit and blue tie. I catch his gaze, and he smiles. My stomach hurts knowing what I must say. Before either of us can speak, the clatter of plates reverberates through the house.

“Beta,” Nasim exclaims, pushing past me to embrace him.

“Ami.” He laughs, trying to disentangle himself from her tight hug. “I was gone for less than a week.”

“It’s not easy for a mother when both her sons are away.” She wipes a tear from her eye.

He looks over at me and shakes his head apologetically.

“You’re finally home.”

It’s Saba. She walks up to join us but stands at a distance. Her arms are crossed. Her lips curl for a second, and she opens her mouth to speak when we hear loud shrieks of laughter. Zaina runs into the foyer and topples into Amin’s arms. I watch Amin lift her up and toss her in the air. Zaina laughs until her face flushes red.

“The puris are fresh,” Nasim announces. “Let’s go while they’re still hot.”

I look at Saba. She is eager to tell him. I can see how she’s trying to catch Amin’s eye.

I won’t last until tonight. I need to talk to him first.

After breakfast, I follow him to the bedroom.

“I feel like I was gone a month!” He turns to me. “It’s good you didn’t come.” He loosens his tie. “We spent the whole time in and out of meetings. I don’t even know if Karachi has a sun.” He laughs until he sees my drawn expression.

“What’s the matter?”

I take a deep breath. Looking at him, I suddenly feel shaky. He told me once he wouldn’t help me, but that was before. He knows me now. I can tell in the way he looks at me, the way he defends me from his sister, he loves me. And yet I know that love does not stop people from hurting one another. I know love does not guarantee he can do what I want to ask him to do.

But what other choice do I have?

There’s a knock at the door. “What are you two doing?” It’s Nasim. “Ruqaya and her husband are here. Don’t be rude.”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he calls. He turns to me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, you know my mother, she—”

The door handle shakes.

He lets out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’ll probably only be a half hour.”

I watch him press his hand on the doorknob and open it. I look up at the clock. It’s noon. Please stay longer than thirty minutes, I pray. Stay all day. I have eight hours to go. Then I’m free.

* * *

“Please come visit us again,” Nasim says.

Ruqaya and her husband are in the foyer putting their shoes on. After the disastrous encounter with her sister, Nasim staved off most guests, but now, guests come regularly. Ruqaya, who stands before me, struggling to clasp the tops of her black shoes, is still my favorite. Despite my frequent attempts, she knows little beyond “hello” and “good-bye,” but that does nothing to diminish her enthusiasm for learning English.

“Okay,” she says now, her face scrunched up in concentration. “I will. See you. Later.”

I pretend to smile. I have no time for this today. Today I need to figure out what to do.

Nasim shuts the door after they leave and locks it. “Do you have to teach English to everyone you meet?” She rolls her eyes. “How about practicing your Urdu while you’re still in Pakistan?”

Just then I hear the sound of footsteps stomping past me. “Feiza,” Saba calls out, “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m about to put Zaina down for a nap.”

The footsteps continue, faster, and then a door shuts in the distance.

I get up, my heart pounding. I walk quietly down the hallway until I am in front of Feiza’s room. I hesitate before pressing my ear to the door.

“Feiza, why won’t you believe me?”

“Saba, maybe someone did just need a ride on the tonga. Why should we assume the worst, especially of someone in our own family?”

“I saw him three different times! He’s been lurking around. What is he here for? I’ve heard he won’t take his eyes off of her when he sees her. I know it’s not just a rumor!”

“So, Saba, what are you saying? That all the men who stare at us know us? That there are secrets behind each look?”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. Something is going on. No one has ever seen this man before here. And haven’t you noticed how strange she’s been acting lately? The way she just daydreams during dinner? The way she seems lost in thought all the time?”

“Saba, she’s always been quiet. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I’ll let my brother and mother decide what it means. First thing, as soon as I have both of them in front of me, I’m telling them what I know.”

“Don’t do this,” Feiza pleads. “She will have no place to go. You know what will happen if you say something. Think about what you’re doing. She’ll be sent back, and then her uncle? He’ll kill her. You know he will. Don’t do this.”

Beads of sweat form on my forehead. My mouth goes dry. I back away from the door.

A moment later, Saba emerges. I watch her walk to her bedroom. She slams her door.

I hear the creak of pipes through the walls. Amin is showering. I look at Saba’s door and hesitate for a moment before making my way there. Maybe she is the key. I have to stall her long enough to give me a few more hours. Just until the evening comes. Without knocking, I step inside.

“We need to talk.”

Saba looks up, genuinely surprised. She is in bed, a book in her lap. I take a deep breath. Each word must be spoken with a full appreciation of its consequences.

“Saba, I know you don’t like me, but I wanted to talk to you about what you said to me the other day, what you thought you knew—”

“Thought? I know what I know. If you came here to try to convince me otherwise—”

“I know what you want to do, but you don’t know all the facts. Please don’t do something you will regret.” I walk closer to her and close my eyes. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to tell her this.

“Saba, I’m pregnant.”

My jaw clenches. I see Saba’s blank expression.

“Pregnant?” An amused look spreads across her face.

“Yes. I wanted to tell you so you would think carefully before you decided to say anything to anyone. Especially things that aren’t true. There is a lot at stake.”

“Pregnant! That is wonderful news.” She places her book to the side and stands up. “I’m just curious, though. Who is the father?”

I gasp. “Saba! Who do you think?”

She raises her hands in the air. “Easy, now. It’s a simple question—no need to get defensive. How am I supposed to know? It’s funny, though . . .” She trails off as she now looks at me. “No one told me you were pregnant. That’s the sort of news I would have heard by now, unless of course you were keeping it a secret.”

“I wasn’t sure I was until recently. That’s the only reason.”

“So my dear brother does not even know? You haven’t told a soul, but you’re telling me?”

I hoped by talking to Saba, she would understand, but now, as I look at Saba’s smile, I realize there will be no mercy.

T
he call to prayer can be heard in the distance. I close my eyes. I try to take in the melodic voice as it resonates through the loudspeakers of the minaret. I consider praying. I yearn for peace, but my heart beats too quickly. My mind races with all the different possibilities. Peace is elusive.

It’s been hours since I spoke to Saba. So far she hasn’t said a word. Still, I know reprieve is temporary. I feel like prey, hunted and caught, toyed with until the time is right. I try to imagine what will happen when Saba tells everyone. I shudder. What will they do? Will it even matter that I’m Amin’s wife? Will it matter that I’m carrying Nasim’s grandchild?

I think of my chacha. Does he know about the rumors of my affair? What will he do when he does?

I take a deep breath, trying to still my nerves. I watched Amin minutes earlier, but he was in the kitchen playing with Zaina while Nasim cooked dinner. I was going to call his name, remind him I needed to talk to him, but Feiza’s words made me pause. What if she’s right? What if going to him will make things worse? What if the best recourse is to say nothing and hope Saba waits until tomorrow to break the news?

My small bag is packed. My wedding gold, some money, some dried fruit to last us a few days if we need it. I never found my passport, but we can deal with that when we have to, when we’re far away from here. When we’re safe. I think of Saif and shudder. I hope he listened to me and is safely indoors.

Suddenly, I freeze.

There is a man’s voice, but it is laced with too much anger to be Amin. The voice comes from a distance. I walk into the dining room. Down the hallway. I hear the voice again.

It is Amin.

“I will not tolerate it! I will not!” Nasim’s voice grows louder.

I press my back against the foyer wall.

I can see Amin’s face now. He steps into the kitchen in the distance. Saba trails behind; she looks furious.

“What kind of magic
has she done on you? Why won’t you listen to what we’re trying to tell you? You are going to take her word over mine? Your sister’s?”

“Ami, Saba. You both have hated her since she came here. You never gave her a chance. I don’t care if there are rumors, it doesn’t make them true! There are new rumors every day. People talk about it and then they move on. You would say anything to turn me against her.”

“Turn you against her?” Saba yells. “Do you hear yourself? I’m your sister, and I am telling you she is having an affair under your nose, and you are accusing us?”

“I don’t care if the rumors are true,” Nasim interrupts. “Everyone is talking, Amin. They’re laughing at us! Don’t you care what is happening to our family?”

Saba walks away from the kitchen. Before I can move, she spots me. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment. They are filled with venom.

“Why don’t you ask her for yourself?” She points to me. “Maybe then you will see we’re not liars!”

I watch Amin emerge. Nasim is steps behind him. Amin’s eyes are red, his face flushed. Looking at me, his eyes soften.

“I’m so sorry.” He takes a step toward me. “I don’t know what is going on here. Everyone has just lost their minds. It’s the only explanation.”

Saba walks past him and up to me, her eyes narrow. “So have you told him yet? All the things you confessed to me?” Before I can respond, she turns to Amin. “Did you know your wife was pregnant?”

Amin stares at my stomach. Looking up at me, he swallows. “Pregnant?”

“Wasn’t important enough to tell your husband?” says Nasim with a triumphant expression. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t tell him or us this wonderful news unless you had something to hide.”

“Naila . . .” He stares at me. “Is it true?”

I struggle to find my voice. I’ve seen this scene unfolding since Saba threatened me, and yet now that it’s here, I don’t know how to begin.

“Amin. Yes. But can we talk in private? I can explain everything to you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His face is white like paper.

“Look, let’s just go to our room. Please, let’s go to our room, let’s talk—”

“No, there’s no more talking in private,” Nasim says. “I knew what you were for a very long time, but you’ve revealed your true colors to everyone, including my son, all on your own now.”

“Amin”—my voice trembles—“it’s not what you think. If you just talk to me, I can explain to you. I didn’t do anything that they’re accusing me of. I swear it.”

Nasim walks up to me. Her face is inches from mine. I can feel her heavy breathing, see the perspiration forming on her forehead. “Feiza, get her things.” She doesn’t take her eyes off of me.

“Ami, please—”

“Don’t you dare say anything. You do what you are told this minute.”

Feiza looks at me and then, lowering her face, her lips quivering, she walks away.

“Amin.” I look at him. “Let me explain. You owe me this much.”

“Is it true you were on a tonga with a man? Talking with him?” Amin rubs his temples. “Did you know him?”

“Yes.” I walk up to him. “Let me explain it to you in private. It’s not the full story. And this pregnancy . . . it’s yours.”

Amin lets out an empty laugh. “How can it be mine? Is that even possible?”

“It is.” I stare at him. “How can you, of all people, question that?”

His expression pales.

Nasim’s eyes are fiery. “You see? She knows him! You heard her, Amin! You know now we are not liars? And look at her! Admitting all of this, and instead of pleading for mercy, she talks to you like this?” She turns to me. “After everything we have done for you, you try to ruin us? I’m done being nice to you. You are worth less than the dirt on the ground I walk on, and now everyone sees it.”

I look at Amin. He looks back at me. I see the unspoken accusations on his lips.

I feel sick. Somewhere deep down, I had hoped Amin cared about me. That he would help me. But now, I realize, he will not intercede.

“You want me to leave, and I want to go,” I tell them. I watch Saba take the suitcase from Feiza. Green and blue pieces of fabric poke through the latch. “I’ll just take my suitcase and leave. You will never hear from me again.” I pull away, but Nasim yanks me by the arm, her nails digging into my skin.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? No, you will leave on our terms. Everyone is going to know we cast you out.” She turns to Feiza. “Call her uncle. Tell him to come get her. She’ll be waiting outside,” Nasim says.

“Amin.” Tears stream down my face. Nasim drags me by the arm. “Give me a chance to explain myself. You owe me this much after everything.”

“But you never told me.” His voice rises. “You turned me into a fool in my own home. You lied to me.” Shaking his head. “All this time, I always defended you.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Things are out of my hands now. They are beyond what I want, and what I can do. I can’t help you now. It’s too late.”

Saba’s hands shove me down the hallway and outside. The sun shines brighter than usual in the sky. A burst of air churns a patch of sand and blurs my vision; the heat of the road burns my bare feet. Grabbing the suitcase, Nasim throws it onto the dusty road. The force swings it open on impact. My clothes litter the street in blues, whites, and pastels.

“You think you can live in my house and deceive us?” Nasim walks up to me. Her face is flushed, power now squarely back in her hands. “How dare you take advantage of my kindness and ruin my family name?” I feel a blistering slap across my face. The force tilts my head back. I taste blood against my tongue. “I have an unmarried daughter in my house, and you bring shame to my family? You sully my name?” Nasim shoves me hard. I fall forward, tripping against the concrete step, my foot twisting when I land with a thud.

Nasim seems possessed by a demon. I try covering myself from Nasim’s feet—she kicks me with each curse. I try turning inward, but it’s no use.

I can make out people, a small crowd. They surround us. Small children, neighboring women, some who even came over to the house, who patted my hands as they thanked me for the tea I made them. They stand now at the edges, shaking their heads, whispering, watching.

How long has it been?

I no longer feel pain. It is as though I am floating above my body, watching events transpire on a screen. I’m numb as blood trickles down my nose, settling into my swollen lip. I think of my brother, my childhood bed with lace ruffles on the edges; I think of Saif, his dimple, his lips warm and soft, pressed against mine, the stubble tickling my cheeks. I feel a shadow, the world darkening, as I wait for everything to go black.

I wait for the next blow, but then—nothing. I hear voices. Looking up, I see Nasim; her body is suddenly yanked backward. Amin has pulled her off of me.

I try sitting up but wince—my wrists sear with pain. Just then, Amin’s gaze shifts. His jaw hardens.

“Who is that? Is that him? What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Amin shouts at someone marching toward us.

It’s Saif, but Amin doesn’t wait for an answer. Before I can process any more, Amin charges him.

I bite my lip and push myself up through the pain, but before I can do anything, Amin shoves Saif to the ground.

Who is this person? I can scarcely recognize Amin right now as he punches Saif.

I don’t pause to think. I don’t pause to reflect on consequences of any kind. Before anyone can move, I’m on my feet. Anger rises in me. It propels me.

“Stop.” A loud voice—my voice—stops Amin in his tracks.

He looks up at me. His breathing is rapid. He takes me in, but he hasn’t moved. I’ve never seen him so furious.

“I didn’t choose this, Amin. You know that. You know I don’t belong here. And you know you will be happier with someone else. What are you getting out of hurting him? What good can possibly come of any of this? Do you want to keep us here long enough for my uncle to get here and finish what you’ve started?”

Just like that, my words seem to deflate him. The rage in his eyes evaporates. I watch his shoulders slump. Something in him fades.

Just then, we hear the screech of tires. A car door slams. A yellow car pulls up just a few feet away. The brake lights glow red. A door opens, and Saif’s father jumps out.

“Let’s go,” he shouts, walking quickly toward us.

Saba’s eyes are large and round. She takes a step toward us. Nasim follows. They are marching up to us.

Saif stands up and walks over to me. He places an arm around my waist, helping me to fully stand. My foot throbs, but I no longer feel any pain.

“Are we putting on a circus act for all to see? What is this?” Nasim demands.

“This is us leaving,” I tell her.

“After everything she’s put us through, she just leaves?” Saba cries out.

“No,” Nasim says, her eyes never leaving mine. “She does not get to humiliate us this publicly and then just run off.” She takes a step toward me. “Over my dead body.”

“Enough,” Amin says.

His voice is quiet, but it silences them both. I wipe dirt mingled with blood from my face and look at him.

“Leave them alone,” he finally says. “Let them leave in peace.”

I look at him, and something inside me hurts. I want to tell him so many things. But I know that it’s now too late.

Saif and his father help me walk to the car. I get inside, and Saif sits next to me. I look back at the house of cement and bricks, the gravelly path leading to the door. Feiza stands at the entryway, holding Zaina tightly to her. My chest compresses when I see them. Zaina watches me with large eyes. The car jerks forward, turns right, and then, after so many months, after everything I’ve been through—they’re all gone.

“Are you okay?” Saif asks softly. “We’ll be home before you know it.”

I rest my head on Saif’s shoulder and close my eyes. I have gone to hell and back, but I’m okay. Finally, I am home.