Layla

I keep on looking at the picture, every now and then. Scrutinizing from every angle. Just to be sure that this picture isn't a fake. Deep down convincing myself that it couldn't be him. It just can't. We are traveling back to California today, at 9:00 pm. I am half way done with my packing. Every time I close my eyes all I see is that picture. I should confront him. I am tired of assuming and making up excuses for him. My heart defends him yet my mind criticizes.

"I am going to miss this place," Ahmed says, as he walks into the room, from the balcony.

"Huh?" I avert my attention, and look at him.

"I said I'll miss this place," He says and smiles. "But I'll always have the memories. I am grateful for that."

"Ha-ha yah." I looked at my phone in my hand.

"Are you okay?" Ahmed asked in a concerned tone. I opened my phone and faced it him. The picture displayed on the screen. His mood changes suddenly.

"I am not sure how to feel," I admitted. "Why didn't you tell me?" He snatched my phone from my hand.

"Where did you get this?" He asked in a harsh tone.

"Some random number sent it to me. Apparently whoever it is, knows more about you than your wife," I said. 

He took a deep breath in and then spoke. "I can explain." Ahmed remained silent. I am sure this isn't something he imagined himself doing today.

"Well?" I stood impatient, waiting for an explanation. As if it wasn't torture enough to silent my mind, the past hours.

"I used to drink," He said and walked towards me. He didn't imagine himself explaining to me about his hidden past. "But I stopped."

"Y-you stopped?" I stammered, unsure of my words or thoughts.

"I am not perfect. Okay?"

"Well nobody is," I said. "But you're a Muslim," I tried to make sense of it all, but it just didn't.

"I am not good at that as well," He said, his voice low.

"I am not judging you," I told him. "I just wish you had been open with me."

"I didn't want to bring it up. It's my past, looking at you all I can ever think about is our future together," He spoke.

"I just don't like finding out things about you from other people," I explained. " I mean I am your wife, I can be your confidant."

"I am sorry you had to find out like this," He said holding up my phone.

"Why did you start drinking?"

"It seemed easier than to face my feelings. I am not addicted to it or anything, sometimes I just want to forget," He said.

"But you're a Muslim," I repeated, unable to find a suitable response.

"I know! Saying that won't change my past," He spoke his tone slightly higher than mine.

"No I am reminding you," I told him. "You can't run from your past, you can't bury your feelings. The longer you do that, it will catch up to you and you will face it one way or another. You need to make amends with yourself, forgive yourself before turning to a new page," I spoke, finally understanding his speech.

"I hate myself," He mumbled, and shifted his gaze. "I ruin everything." I walked toward him and placed my hand on his chest.

"Hey, I love you. This doesn't change anything. You have your flaws and I see them. I have mine as well. I love you still... We can work through this together. Allah s.w.t forgives every sin no how matter big, as long as your heart is sincere," I told him.

"I love you too..." He said in a low tone, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I stopped drinking a year ago, I smoke once in a while because of work stress. I live with this guilt in my heart that I am not doing right and Allah s.w.t sees me, God knows. I have depression as well, been trying to ignore it but I guess I can't. I am not a good person..."

"I know you are a good person." He walks away from me, trying to hide his face. "You are trying, and that's the first step. Just don't stop trying to be a better version of yourself. God sees you, testing you. He just wants you to go back to him. I had no idea you had depression..."

"I am not going to stop trying. Once we got back to California  I will go see a therapist."

"And I will be by your side. Every step of the way ," I said as I walked towards him. I held his hand.

"I am scared that I won't be a good husband, or a good father. I couldn't even look past my judgement and listen to you. I am a crappy person," He spoke, his voice muffled.

"Every person has their low points. You are going to be the best dad and you are already an amazing husband, and every couple has their arguments but that doesn't mean you aren't a good person," I told him. I hugged him, Ahmed hugged me even tighter.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you," He spoke, as he stopped hugging me. "I won't keep any secrets from you."

"All is forgiven. I am just glad that you were open with me and trust me now that I know. I will make it my life goal to make sure you are doing right by your religion and by your mental health," I said.

"What would I do without you?" He asked, and smiled. I kept quiet and just looked at him, appreciating him and his existence.