Chapter 18 *Unedited

‘Closure’

I wrapped the shawl on my head tightly and pulled the loose knitted cardigan closer concealing my body and trapping the warmth in the cool evening breeze.

I disliked graveyards with a passion. They brought about a lonely and eerie sensation, which caused a cold shiver to rack my trembling body. 

After her death it was the first time I had set foot in this place. I just needed closure. That’s exactly what I was missing, I hadn’t seen her live fully functional smile before she was a corpse lying in that white hospital bed with a whimpering man and baby beside her. Her death had caused so much trouble, the day she was meant to bring bliss to her life she left. Maybe if I had shared my mind with her, exchanged a few words and seen her warm smile, maybe the pain the guilt would have been less. What hurt most was I hadn’t seen Malika face to face before she died. 

I couldn’t hate her. All I could do was envy her. She had a man who loved her so much and so deeply, it was her luck. But god did not justice, he took her before she could really cherish the man who was broken and practically finished after her death. 

I followed the small trail to where Laila had directed me. She had dropped me off after the shopping trip as per my order. 

I stopped dead behind the large oak tree and started at him.

It was no surprise.

Zayn Shah stood with his back to me.

I heard him loud and clear, every word carved into my mind. 

“I want to tell her but I can’t. I can’t break her anymore,” He stated, his hands shoved into his crisp black trousers. 

“I love you Malika,” His whisper reached my ears and I stood rooted as he slowly backed away from the perfectly carved stone which stood tall and proud amongst the other graves. He remained facing her grave, the autumn leaves crunched under his boots. 

I ran behind the shield of bushes, which lined the other side of the graves creating a sort of wall. I kept my tears in, forced them in so he wouldn’t hear the pain. So he wouldn’t have to deal with anymore guilt because he made his wife’s little sister cry.

He loved her.

Why did I not have the right to love someone? Why should I be caught up in between two lovers?

I watched him walk away from the grave. He coughed slightly but slowly moved towards the small trail I had followed up.  His frame disappeared and I let the tears flow. I shuffled forward and reached the grave.

Loving wife and mother Malika Shah.

What game does did fate play. Both sisters where born with the same name and still shared the same names. 

“I miss you,” I breathed out. 

“If you where here Malika you would know that I’m not in the wrong. I don’t hate you sis, I can’t. It’s just… I want what you have. You have the love, which carries on after death. I want it too,” My words jumbled as the tears fell.

“You told me you would force mum and dad to accept Rizvan. You…” I laughed at the memory.

“You even planned my wedding,” My smile fell as I stared down at the rich red petals thrown on the soil.

“I need to finish this, these games, this…” I waved my hand dramatically feeling she was there, listening nodding, understanding my every word.

“I care for Zayn I do, but he can’t give me what he’s dedicated to you. I can’t rob his love for you. I will always be there for him, every step of the way. For his daughter…” I closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. 

“I’m going to let him go,” I whispered.

My eyes snapped open as I felt the breeze. The petal’s moved around and I looked down at the grave.

If only she could come back. 

“I choose Rizvan,” I said softly. My words leaked off determination.  

“I love you Malika,” I whispered chanting a soft prayer and backing away from her grave. Something felt off, something felt foreign. 

But I was free. I had chosen.

Rizvan I’m coming. 

I sat on a cold bench and unlocked the screen. My thumb shook as I found his name on my contact list. I pressed listening to the familiar dial tone.

I remember how shameful this was for every family. It stripped their respect and modesty, killed their social status and ego. But why couldn’t that family take a step back and understand their daughter?

What I was going to do wasn’t modest. It was wrong in so many eyes. But I can’t do this any longer. I wanted to die without a regret.

“Aliyah,” His voice rumbled through the line stopping my train of thoughts.

“You might need to propose again,” I whispered into the line. 

The line was quite as I squeezed my eyes shut. 

Please don’t reject me. Please.

“I’m coming,” I heard his voice a tinge of happiness streaming through it.

“Rizvan. Am I doing the right thing?” 

“You’re doing this for you. You have every right to happiness,”

….

I slowly pushed the door open to the house and was greeted with pitch silence. He had taken the next plane as promised and would be here in the early hours of the morning.

He was ready to leave everything for me. 

My palms felt sweaty as I heard the dishes clash in the kitchen. I peeked in watching my mother a replication of Malika. Her deep brown hair locked into a loose bun as she stirred food in a stained apron.

Her eyes glanced towards the door and she smiled beckoning me towards. 

“Come in,” She smiled.

I looked down at the tiles feeling the shame.

“I’m so proud of you Aliyah. You’ve done us proud,” she shone me a bright and honest smile. My heart froze at her words. Soon her mind set would change and she would curse after my name.

“Every parent would want such a humble daughter like you,” she smiled grasping my face in her palms and planting a warm kiss on both my cheeks.

I smiled feeling the waterworks. I turned away and walked up the stairs taking a deep breath. The house smelt of my mothers cooking wafting through the hall and up the stairs. 

Dammit stop feeling guilty. 

I was doing this because I had every right to live my life the way I wanted. There was a nagging thought constantly showing up reminding me why I had sat quietly on that day and sighed the papers that bound Zayn to me. Then there was another feeling. Deep inside I was used to living a unusual far away life with Zayn in one home.

But living under one roof wasn’t enough.

Malika ruled his heart and that’s what it was. If 5 years couldn’t change that nor could another few years. 

I sucked in another deep breath and walked in to my bedroom. Zaisha was curled underneath the duvet, soft snores filling the room. Her curls unruly and peeking out under the duvet. 

I couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t control them.

I softly sat near the bed running my hands through her tight curls and watching her shuffle. She was beautiful; a replicate of her mother but carried all my traits.

It was close to 12.00 and no sign of Zayn. I shoved my hands from taming her soft brown hair and left a kiss on her forehead internally begging her to forgive me. I stood up controlling the trail of tears and shoved open the same suitcase I had carried from Canada.

The phone rang stopping my mid packing and I looked at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Aliyah. Look Zayn’s at the hospital, so it’s best we leave now,” Rizvan said, stilling me.

“He’s in the hospital?” I breathed out.

“Yeah Taylor my assistance’s been keeping an eye on him.”

“Rizvan… are you sure he’s ok?” I repeated staring at the contents I had spilled in the suitcase in a haste to pack the necessary items.

“Why are you so worried?” He growled over the phone and I gulped. He had a point why was I so worried? He had a slight cough and he might have walked into the hospital to pick up some cough syrup. But then again most people would walk into a pharmacy.

“No I just…” 

“Where are your mother and father?” He stated after a soft pause.

“My father’s and mother are all asleep,” I said noticing the dead silence in the house and the absence of light. We had sat at the table and had dinner in silence, my last formal meeting with them, a memory I would have to savor for life. It pained me to sit there and watch their proud smiles.

“Good.”

“Rizvan I have a bad feeling,”

“No second thoughts Aliyah. Please,” He said, his voice empty and hallow as I finished zipping the suitcase with the phone tucked in between my ear and shoulder.

“Look outside,”

I walked towards the window my heart sinking at every step. I opened the window and stared down seeing him standing there with a phone pressed to one ear and a heart-shattering smile that had smitten me many years ago. 

“Throw down your backpack,”

“I have a suitcase,” I blurted.

“Seriously? How do you expect to get a suitcase through the window without causing a racket and killing me?” He asked with a slight laugh.

“Hey, it’s not that heavy,”

“Leave the suitcase. Leave everything and just come,” He whispered. By everything he meant, my family, my daughter, my husband, and my home. Maybe he even meant my memories. Maybe he wanted to build a new home, a new family and new memories with me. But I would always carry my past. Maybe my past wasn’t the brightest but it’s what made me into who I was today.

I nodded switching off the phone and leaving it on the bedside table, tears fell as I left a soft kiss on my daughter’s face.

“May Allah bless with every happiness,” I whispered walking towards the window and looking at the height. If I jumped the most that could happen was a broken leg.

But next to the window was a sturdy wooden ladder stained with paint. My father’s old ladder which was tucked away in the back shed. Malika and I had thought this ladder would one day take us to the sky and into the heavens when we were school kids. 

I shook my head at the memory and smiled descending slowly. 

His hand took mine and he pulled me away from the ladder smiling softly.

“Go up there and bring Zaisha,” He said.

My heart constricted at the raw honesty leaking through his voice. I could, I really wanted too. But she was Zayn’s last memory of Malika, I couldn’t rob that from him.

I shook my head as he wrapped his arms around me, the tears socked his shirt and snuggled in deeper letting them flow. It hurt letting go of her.

“I promise. I promise Aliyah I will allow another tear to escape,” he said and pulled away grabbing the ladder and struggling to take it back to the shed. I laughed through the falling tears as he slightly stumbled with the wooden weight.

He tucked the ladder back in and closed the shed door softly locking it in place.

His hand took mine and my eyes found his. This was serious. No more laughter remained.

“What now?” I whispered.

“We marry and return to London. The city where I first set eyes on you.”

……

The story is nowhere near finished!

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