Reyansh Carter
Aisha is still in my hold, her breathing almost shallow. I know this is all a lot for her. Today has been nothing less than hectic and chaotic for her. But this was all I could do to keep her with me, close with me for as long as possible.
I knew nothing I would say would be able to stop her from leaving other than the fact that our mothers would be visiting us. And I was right. She didn’t leave me. Yet.
“I know I have fucked up massively, Aisha,” I whisper in our silent bedroom, where the only sounds that can be heard are Aisha’s slow breathing, the clock ticking, and my honest words.
“I know I have hurt you and disappointed you so much. But I also know that in the moments when I have let you down, in the moments when I haven’t been as present as I was supposed to be, and in the moments I was supposed to be a better husband, I have loved you.
I never stopped, and it kills me to know that I made you feel like that.
All I ask, all I am begging, is for you to give me one chance to fix everything. ”
A startled hiccup from her makes me raise my eyes to finally look at her face. Tears that I know she had been holding back for so long stream down her cheeks, and my heart clenches in my chest. God knows how many tears I have made her cry over me. But not anymore.
Not now or ever.
“You can’t just say that, Reyansh.” Her words sounded just as vulnerable as she looked right now.
So fragile. “You can’t just come after months and months of neglecting me and then say that you love me when you have made me feel so, so terrible.
I have spent days and nights wondering what has happened to us.
What I was doing wrong. Now you come and say that you love me when I have made up my mind that maybe this marriage wasn’t meant to last.”
Her words hit me deep in the parts of my heart that I never knew existed. If I could murder myself, I would have by now.
“Aisha,” I lick my lips, trying to get words out. But I know nothing I could say would soothe her wounds. “I don’t know what to say.”
She wipes harshly at her face, and I momentarily lean up to hold her hands, but she gets up, shoving me away. My face twists in pain that doesn’t even amount to what I have inflicted on her.
“That’s the point, Reyansh. You never know what to say. And I am tired of trying to listen to your silence.”
She doesn’t wait for me after that, choosing to grab her car keys and slamming the door shut.
Every limb in my body itches to go after her. I know better than that. If I chase her right now, she will only further push me away.
So like a loser. I stay behind, wondering what to do.
* * *
It has been one hour since Aisha left. It has been one hour since I have sat rooted in front of the front door with my phone in hand, in case she calls.
It has been one hour since it started raining heavily, and my anxiety has picked up to another level.
I am just a second away from having a panic attack.
I shouldn’t be thinking negatively. Aisha is a grown woman, and she is more than capable of taking care of herself. But the way she left, so broken and angry, makes all the negative thoughts come rushing into my mind.
If this is how I act when she is gone merely for one hour, there’s no way I will be able to survive if she leaves me.
I doubt I would be able to survive even a single day without her.
“Reyansh,” my mom says, “she will be back soon. Stop fretting.”
“Yes, she is right,” Maa agrees. “She has a habit of taking a long walk or something to cool off. I know my daughter. She will be fine.”
“I know,” I say, my tone vicious, and I hate it, but I can’t help it. “I know, but I need to make sure she is okay. She isn’t even picking up my calls.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, on the brink of hurling over. My heart has started beating as loud as it possibly could, and I am afraid if she doesn’t come back soon, I might as well go into cardiac arrest.
“Rey—”
Only then does the front door unlock, and I finally come back to life. Aisha comes in, her entire body drenched in water. I clench and unclench my jaw. Half relaxed and half mad that she did this.
Something could have happened to her, and I wouldn’t have ever known.
“Fuck, Aisha,” I go and grab a towel. No matter how mad I may be at her for jeopardizing her health, I also love her too much. So much it practically hurts everywhere.
She looks at me with lost eyes, as if she can’t make sense of the situation, and my eyes well up.
I have never embraced toxic masculinity.
I never believed in the notion that men shouldn’t cry, but I have also never embraced my emotions fully.
For so long, I have struggled with getting my thoughts and my feelings out.
Aisha was and is the first person I have ever opened up to about my feelings and my thoughts.
She is the only woman I have cried for and in front of.
“Aisha,” my mom says. “Are you okay?”
She nods in response, letting me dry her hair. I take my time in gently drying her up, my hands lingering everywhere I can without making it seem like too much or inappropriate.
“I will go make something hot for you all,” Maa says, and my mom follows after her, probably sensing that we both need a minute.
“Aisha,” a tear falls down my cheek. “You scared the fuck out of me. If something would have happened to you, I would have done something to myself.”
She doesn’t say anything, just looks at me. Her eyes roam all over my face.
“Baby, I know you are mad at me.” I hold her face in my palms. The way her face fits in my palms, as if it was made to be held by my hands only, resurrects my heart back to life.
“I know I deserve it. Fuck, I deserve even worse. But this is no way to do that. You putting yourself at any kind of risk is something I won’t let you do ever again. Do you get me?”
“You love me, right?” she asks after a while.
“Of course, Aisha,” I tell her, looking in between her eyes to understand what is going on inside her head. “I love you. You are the only one I have ever loved and will ever love. My heart belongs to you.”
She doesn’t respond, her eyes going almost blank.
“You will do anything for me, yeah?”
I nod. Fuck, I will do anything and everything for her. Go to the moon and back. Anything she says, even if I don’t believe in it. As long as my wife is happy.
“Then tell them the truth. Tell them what’s going on. I can’t keep living under the weight of lies we have told them.”
My face pales. My hands go stiff against her face. The cold seeping into my bones. I clench my jaw so tight I can feel my molars hurting.
Anything for my wife.
“Tell us what?” My mom asks, and we turn to look at her.
She keeps the plate of snacks on the table, and Maa looks at us with a knowing look.
Anything for my wife.
The words repeat in my mind on a loop.
“Aisha and I are thinking about divorce.”
“Correction—I want a divorce. From Reyansh.”
The silence that follows is enough to deafen a person.
“Aisha,” her mom speaks up after a while. Her voice is stiff and cold. “Go change and come out. We are going to have a conversation.”
Aisha looks at her confused but doesn’t argue.
“Reyansh,” she looks at me finally, and I stiffen in my place. “Sit down. It’s time we have this conversation.”
* * *
Aisha fidgets with her fingers beside me as we sit still in front of both of our mothers. Their eyes scrutinize us with so much detail that it is hard not to sweat. My hand itches to hold onto hers to comfort her, but the way we dropped the bomb on them, I would rather not take any risks.
It is not like they didn’t know it, so I don’t get the whole mysterious, suspenseful vibes they are setting up right now.
“Aisha, Reyansh,” Maa speaks up. “Since when did you guys start giving up on each other? Why do you guys want a divorce after such a long relationship?”
Aisha looks at me from the corner of her eyes, but I am not the one who wanted to tell them this news all of a sudden, so if anything, this is her arrow to take.
“Maa, I just—we just think it is best for the both of us to just part ways.”
She says that, and I hold back the urge to throw a tantrum. Bullshit. It is not for the best of both of us.
“Do you agree, Reyansh?” Maa questions, and Aisha gives me a look.
No, not a look. She glares at me to say yes. The joke’s on her; I don’t play when it comes to her.
“No,” I say, plain and simple. “I won’t lie to you, Maa.
There have been problems within our marriage.
I haven’t been as present as I should have been.
I haven’t been the best husband. But that does not change the fact of how in love with Aisha I am.
I have never stopped loving her. But I did a shitty job at showing it to her.
So, no. I don’t want a divorce. I won’t give her a divorce. ”
“You can’t keep me in this marriage if I don’t fucking want to stay, Reyansh,” she lashes out at me, and my eyes zero in on her.
“Language, Aisha,” Maa warns.
“I want a divorce. That’s it.”
“I don’t want a divorce. That’s it.”
Before we can start bickering, my mom interrupts. She had been sitting quietly all this while. Quietly observing, and that was very unlike her.
“You both have to stop treating this like a game,” she says, disappointed. “It is not about your ego. It is about your entire lives. Both of you need to be on the same page about it.”
I look at Aisha, hoping she understands what she is saying. She won’t agree if I say it, but maybe if they do, she will come to a healthy conclusion.
“Mom,” she says, tired. “I know what you are saying is true. But we have already given it all that we had. I have done enough. I can’t do more.”
“Let me do my part now then, Aisha,” I plead. “I want to make a change. I deserve a chance, Aisha. This is my marriage too.”
“For so long, it has only been mine, Reyansh. Forgive me if I don’t have the patience anymore.”
Her words slash through my heart, and while I agree, I can’t help but feel a bit mad at her for doing this so unfairly.
“We have a proposition for you two,” my mom says.
“We can’t let you two mindlessly jeopardize your lives.
So, what we say is, give it three months.
Three months of effort, love, patience, and respect.
No ego. Only honest conversations. If by the end of three months, you decide that it is not meant for you, then you can get a divorce. ”
Her words set my heart alive. While three months is not enough, it is still something.
I know I would do anything to get her love back in these three months.
“Deal?”
I hold Aisha’s eye contact, and I can see the gears turning inside her brain. I hope and pray she says yes.
“Deal.”