Chapter 6 #2
‘It’s nothing of the sort, Reshma.’ There was a lace of annoyance in his words as he said them through gritted teeth, before shaking his head as he looked down.
He looked tired and deflated, something she’d not seen before.
But then she’d always seen Zafar in his element, being his brilliant self all the time, as though failure was a foreign concept to him.
‘I was wrong. When you first asked me to come here for the wedding, I should have agreed and I’m sorry that I didn’t.
’ He broke eye contact and looked towards the ground again, as though gathering his thoughts or finding the words to articulate them.
‘I’ve been a failure as a husband, I’m well aware of that.
I’ve not given you or our marriage the time or attention I should have, but I want … I want things to be different.’
She was shocked at his open admission of his failure, but not enough to not respond to him. She couldn’t let his contrition in that moment cover up the chasm that had always been there and he’d never tried to bridge, despite her efforts on that front.
Reshma clicked her fingers. ‘Just like that? And I should just fall into line with that new-found wish of yours? You know, Zafar, it’s not just about you being here or the fact that your dad told you to come.
It’s more than that. I’m not blind or deaf or slow on the uptake.
Our relationship has never really taken off, so I can’t even say that it’s deteriorated.
You’ve never been interested in me or being with me or getting to know me.
I’m wondering why you ever agreed to marry me in the first place. ’
His mouth parted as he stared at her, unblinking, for a moment. ‘I wasn’t forced, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I had the freedom to accept or not accept the match with you and I chose to accept it. I chose to marry you.’
‘And is this what you envisaged married life to be?’ Because she certainly hadn’t.
‘I don’t expect declarations of undying love from you.
I don’t expect you to devote yourself to me and forget everything and everyone around you, but I do expect some semblance of a relationship beyond material comforts, Zafar.
I expected a connection. Honesty. I don’t put a great deal of stock in love from others.
God knows, it’s not come my way from the people who you’d expect to offer it unconditionally.
’ Reshma ignored the shaft of pain she felt in the region of her heart at her own words.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with love and affection, she’d received it in abundance from her uncles, aunts and cousins.
But the kind of love one got from parents or grandparents was something she’d never had.
And then she’d seen Zafar, and while she wouldn’t go as far as saying it was love at first sight for her, she had developed strong feelings towards him and what he represented.
What they could become to each other. She’d been a fool.
Her mother had gone down that destructive path and where had that led her?
Maybe this was a blessing. A way for her to stop and realise where she was headed before it was too late.
There was confusion on Zafar’s face, along with a spark of interest lighting his eyes.
She didn’t want to go into her family history, so she steered the conversation back to the point it had started at while she still had the wherewithal to do so.
‘The fact of the matter is that we don’t have a relationship, Zafar.
We’ve been married for thirteen months and in all that time, we’ve barely spent a weekend in just each other’s company.
You’re a devoted grandson, son and brother and that’s praiseworthy.
Your work ethic is admirable. But that’s all there is to your life.
There’s no place for a wife, let alone more of a family.
I don’t even know what sort of future you see for yourself and, if I’m honest, I’m beginning to lose sight of my own. ’
Zafar hadn’t taken his eyes off her while she’d been talking as they now stood there silently, regarding each other.
She knew that he wasn’t a bad person. In fact, he was a wonderful man.
He just wasn’t the husband she had thought he would be.
She had thought – hoped – that they would have a connection which finally made her feel like she had found where she truly belonged.
A man who, like he did with everyone else around him, would make her feel special and treasured.
Like she mattered to him. But that hadn’t happened.
‘Are you telling me that you don’t want to give us a chance then?’ He sounded uncharacteristically uncertain.
‘I don’t know what I’m telling you. But I know that I’m tired, Zafar.
’ She took a shuddering breath as she felt all the suppressed emotions in her chest rise.
‘I’m fed up of being the only one trying in our relationship.
All my life, it’s been me trying, wondering what the hell it is I do wrong that drives people away or makes them decide that I’m not worth the effort.
I’m done with that. I’d rather have no expectations of people than be let down repeatedly because, believe it or not …
’ Reshma closed her eyes as she sucked in another shaky breath, willing the tears threatening the corners of her eyes not to fall.
‘It hurts. A lot.’ Her voice broke at the last bit.
She felt emotion well up from deep inside her and took three wobbly steps to the armchair beside the sofa and lowered herself into it.
Despite her effort to stop herself, a tear rolled down her cheek as all her pent-up pain, frustration and unfulfilled desires threatened to pour out through her eyes, leaving her with nowhere to hide except behind her hands.
With no strength left in her to hold it back, she allowed it all to come out. She didn’t know how long she sat there before she sensed Zafar come and kneel down in front of her.
She hated this feeling. This helplessness. The sense of weakness and neediness that she was sure made her look pathetic in front of him.
‘Reshma?’ His voice was low as he gingerly touched her hands, keeping his fingertips there for a moment.
He slowly eased her hands away from her face and she let him, having zero energy to do anything else.
Her tears, it seemed, hadn’t quite finished as her eyes filled with them once more, barely holding back before they made their inevitable descent.
He squeezed her hands and then let go, surprising her by gently swiping his thumbs across her cheeks as he cupped them in his palms. ‘Don’t cry, Reshma, please.
I know I’ve upset you, hurt you, but I swear to God, I have never, ever meant to.
Please believe me, hurting you is something I’d never want or do deliberately.
But I accept that that is what I’ve done.
I’ve been so focused on other aspects of my life that I didn’t stop to embrace or even appreciate the change you had brought into it. ’
She dropped her gaze but didn’t push him away and after a moment, he got up and moved away, only to come back, holding a bottle of water out to her.
She took the bottle from him and after a few small sips, she reached forward and put it on the low table.
She ran the back of her hand across her mouth and, after taking a trembling breath, she got up.
‘I’m going to sleep. I’m tired and … Good night. ’
She didn’t look at him, speaking to his shoulder instead, and moved towards the bed, getting in and enveloping herself in the duvet. She didn’t bother switching her bedside lamp off, needing the oblivion of sleep more than anything. Anything to stop the torrent of emotions battering her right now.