Chapter 3: "The Lost Option"

Comment your reactions as you read, pwaese? I miss the banter 🙁

Feb, 2018

"I don't see what your problem is?"

Salma snapped her head to raise an incredulous brow at her unbothered friend.

"Are you for real?" Salma expressed her disbelief.

"Yep," Sarah replied, still chipping away her nails, carving weird ridges over them before cutting them off properly.

"Sometimes, I just can't with your less-than-bothered attitude." Salma sighed. "There's a bloody monster on my tail, my people's freedom is hanging by the flimsy thread of my character, my father wants me to play wife to a man I can't stand and you think all's good?"

"Nah, I don't think all's good. I just don't see why you're so worked up?" Sarah replied, paying more attention to the small hill she had carved out over her pointer's nail, than to Salma's life and death situation. "Your father honestly hit the jackpot when he decided to delay the divorce. You get to beat the udderless cow --"

"Sarah!" Salma closed her eyes in exasperation at the images that conjured up in her head.

" -- And then sign the divorce papers and get rid of the pest. Win-Win!"

"And what exactly is he to me during all this time?" Salma asked, feeling frustrated.

"Who?"

"Zayn!" Salma all but shouted.

"A tool." Sarah shrugged. "A properly placed, well-oiled tool. It's not like you actually have to do anything to prove you're his wife. You just have to doll-up and be shy and pretend that you have a guy."

Salma turned away, looking disgusted.

"This is madness. I'm just scared of how it would end. Ridiculing the sanctity of a nikkah? How's making joke of something so sacred going to end well!"

"So you're feeling guilty?" Sarah finally spared her a side glance.

"Look once he was tried by the court, we evened out. I can't stand him but that does not mean I think it's okay to be unjust to him. To use him and then just throw him aside like a wipe . . . This - This is us wronging him now and that's never okay!"

"You do realize he's the one who wronged you first so you owe him nothing. Besides, he agreed to be used and abused like that. It's not on you."

". . . and let not the enmity and hatred of others make you be unjust to them." Salma quoted the ayah from Surah Al Maa'ida. "Be just: that is nearer to piety, and fear Allah."

Sarah sighed.

"I feel like that's on me," Salma whispered.

She had not teared up yet, but Sarah could see that she was barely holding up. The worry, confusion and fear were all painted on her features, as she held her head in her hands, looking at a complete loss.

Sarah turned around to face her fully. Despite her depressed state, Salma was appalled to see her nails. The nail on the pointer and middle finger had ridges, the ring finger's was trimmed down properly while the one on the little finger was still long. For some crazy reason, Salma imagined some poor soul getting clawed by those razors. She shuddered at the thought.

"You do realize he'll never be able to move on from you if he finds out this is what you're thinking?"

Salma swallowed, the lines on her forehead getting even deeper with misery.

"I cannot turn a blind eye to what I know, Sarah," she said quietly. "I don't intend on giving him false hope, only for him to find out he was heading for a dead-end."

Sarah put the nail-cutter away. Salma looked at her expectantly.

"You don't want to do what your father proposed."

Salma shook her head as the lump in her throat continued to grow.

"Do you have a better alternative?"

Salma took in a shaky breath, feeling waves upon waves of depression descending over her. She could not forsake her people. They were her duty and her priority. They fully deserved a life with freedom and rights. However, she could not overlook her duty to Allah either.

"Yes," Salma whispered.

Sarah attentively listened to what she had to say. The expressions on her face shifting to something miserable and gloomy with every word Salma spoke.

"You do realize you don't have to do this, right?"

Salma sniffed, willing her best to not crack. She rested her head on her clasped hands.

"I don't have a choice."

"You do." Sarah said quietly.

"Then, this is my choice," Salma replied, lifting her head from her linked hands to look at her friend, silently asking her to understand.

Sarah looked away from her. Never had she seen her friend's eyes this distressed. Yes she had seen her cry pathetically a lot of times, but this time, it was not just sadness or hurt, it was the weight of the responsibility of millions of people weighing down on her shoulders. It was that strange emptiness of putting her dreams to sleep so many others could realize their's. It was about making a choice that she would have chosen death over, had it been any other day, but not today.

Sarah let out a slow breath.

"So you're not here for answers," she said. "You already know what you want to do."

She saw Salma's face crumbling.

"I just want you to tell me I'm right this time," Salma whispered through her tears. "I just want to hear that I can make it."

Sarah felt her heart ache. She glanced at Salma to see her blinking away tears. No one deserved to fight such a heavy and bloody battle alone. Least of all her.

"You can make it." Sarah told her. Taking in a deep breath, she smiled. "I know you can."

Salma sniffed, wiping her eyes dry.

"Thanks," she replied, letting out a dry laugh at the absurdity of her request and Sarah's compliance. "I'll get going now."

Salma stood up, grabbing her bag and shouldering it.

"Can I ask you for one small thing, please?" Sarah requested. Salma paused, nodding. "Let me help you."

"How?" Salma asked.

Sarah stood up, approaching her carefully.

"Let me talk to Zayn."

Salma opened her mouth to argue.

"No, listen," Sarah urged. "You need all the help you can get. He has clearly agreed to such a ridiculous arrangement simply because he wants to make it up to you and your father. It's obvious that that dimwit doesn't realize he's wrong because right now, your dad doesn't care for the man who hurt his daughter and, in the process, blew his trust in him to smithereens."

Salma waited for her to finish.

"I suggest that," Sarah clasped her hands. "I convince Zayn to demand an honest chance with you in return for this favor that your father has asked of him. I'm telling you, he's stupid enough to agree with me."

"How does this help me?" Salma asked.

"Well for starters, you don't have to argue with your father over how his proposed scenario is wrong – morally speaking. You can really do with reducing your stress levels, so there's that --"

"And?" Salma nodded, urging her on.

"And with Zayn making a demand like that makes him look like a greater imbecile." Sarah grinned. Salma gave her a deadpanned look. "What I mean to say is, your father has no choice right now. He'll probably agree, which again, saves you the stress of convincing him to do a proper nikkah and all."

Salma stayed quiet, mulling over Sarah's words in silence.

"And lastly," Sarah added cautiously. "It might give the two of you a chance to may be give it a try."

Salma's eyes snapped back to Sarah. Her guard was up.

"Give what a try?" she asked, suspicious.

Sarah braced herself.

"You know." She shrugged. "A proper relation."

Completely stumped, Salma opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out. The bizarre suggestion had her reeling. Sarah took her momentary brain-freeze as a one in a million chance to expand on her insane idea.

"This could be the opportunity to work out your differences. Start anew. You're going for a nikkah after all. It doesn't just stop at an emotionless gathering and signing cold, lifeless papers. It doesn't have to be a jail sentence, Salma. You don't have to take anything from me, but as your friend, I would give you an unsolicited advice. Open your heart to exploring that option. Entertain the idea. See if you two can actually work out a relationship. A proper one."

Salma was silent for a few minutes, gaping at her. She had trouble processing Sarah's words. What was she on about? This was the last thing on her mind. Sarah grabbed her arms.

"Look, all of us make our own happiness," Sarah continued. "Part of what that hag is doing is tormenting you mentally. He knows you don't like Zayn. He's putting you in a position where you'd be weak whichever way you fight him back. He's thrown you out at the wolves!"

Salma swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away, but Sarah grabbed her head and made her meet her eyes squarely.

"Fight him back," she said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "Surprise him with a counter by leading the pack."

Salma suddenly smiled. She could not believe the irony of her words. What were the odds that Sarah had to mention wolves. Her ancestors' animal of choice to idolize.

"Do you know we Oocaths are wolves?"

Sarah smiled warmly, letting go of Salma.

"I know only one," she said, "and she's a Bee."

Salma's smile faltered. Only one person saw the Bee in her. And now she had trouble trusting him.

"You couldn't explore that option or trust him before." Sarah seemed to have pick on her train of thoughts. "But now, it's different. Perhaps working out a relationship and building a trust is the way forward for you; religiously, politically and 'taking-care-of-your-happiness-ly' speaking. Think it through."

Salma looked away again, but then, she nodded.

"But you won't tell him anything that was discussed here," she warned. "About what I think of --"

"I know, I know," Sarah replied. "Nothing about how you're actually worried about his 'feewings' getting hurt."

"Seriously Sarah!"

"I understand. I was kidding --"

"No, I mean it! I really don't trust him," Salma emphasized. "I don't want to do him wrong does not mean I'm willing to put myself in a vulnerable position. You better let him know that!"

"Yes, Maam," Sarah tried to placate the time bomb. "I get it. You're going in ice-cold. No feelings. No respect. No trust. I'll let him know, I promise."

Salma took in a deep breath.

"God, this is some crap," she muttered.

"So?" Sarah asked. "Is 'Project Zalma' a go?"

Salma's eyes snapped towards here again. What in the world?!

"You know what I mean," Sarah quickly defended, seeing the incredulity over her features.

Salma chewed on her lip, hesitating.

"Salma –"

"I need time to think this through."

Later that night, all things considering, Salma realized the safest option with regards to her spiritual and social life was to go with what Sarah suggested. Her father had already decided to continue with nikkah. If she were to let things be like that, that would be sinful. If she pressurized him into breaking out of it, that would land him in a lot of trouble and give Agha Gul a chance to strike at the family. He would definitely malign their image and run a campaign against them for transferring the guardianship of the Zamarud. His political position was strong. He would most probably pressure the grand council into passing the Zamarud into his family.

Salma shuddered at the thought. That would never happen. She was not only responsible for herself but for all those people. No wonder her father was taking such drastic step of continuing a nikkah that had already expired. He could not betray those people, and yet, he could not betray his daughter by asking her to stay in a marriage to a man she did not like. So he resorted to going into the grey area of deception. He was edging towards wrong . . . but maybe he shouldn't need to.

Salma prayed a quick isthikhara, picked up her phone and texted Sarah.

Salma: Okay, talk to him. But you better remember what I said. I really don't trust him one bit and I don't want you giving him any false hope.

Author's Note:

What is she doing? What does she even want? 🤦🏻‍♀️

Anyways, next up: Zayn's P.O.V

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Lots of Love 🥰

J.