Fake Apologies

Fake Apologies
It was 3 p.m. Nobody entered the room, and she didn't dare leave. The thought never
crossed her mind. There was an eerie silence in the haveli, and she could feel it without
even leaving her room. It was because of what had happened in the morning. The drama
which Shehryaar created. Sheharzaad's eyes were roaming here and there in the room.
Suddenly, the telephone beside her rang, breaking her trance. She looked at it with terrified
eyes. She couldn't forget what happened when she picked up the telephone last time. But it
rang continuously. Getting distressed, she at last picked up the call.
“Please... st..op bothering me. I do..not k..now who you are," she uttered, stuttering badly.
“What took you so long to receive my call, sweetheart?” His voice drawled upon her ears.
“Sheh...rya..ar,” she pronounced his name with great difficulty.
“What are you doing, my little lady?” He asked in a casual tone.
“Nothing much,” she replied almost immediately.
“Are you missing your newlywed husband?”
Tongue-tied, she didn't know what to answer. “Yes,” she produced the answer that she
thought would please him.
“Uh huh... The maids will soon bring food for you, finish it,” Shehryaar told her.
She internally wanted to slam his head into the wall. First of all, he was the one to degrade
her health both mentally and physically, and now this so-called care. She hated his bipolar
disorder.
“Do you understand, Sheharzaad?” Shehryaar asked her.
“Yes, I will have my lunch. Don't worry,” Sheharzaad assured him.
“One more thing: do not mingle with the members of the haveli unless very necessary, and
stay away from Aunt Asma. She won't bring any good to you,” Shehryaar told her.
“Yes, I understand very well,” she told him.
After that, he hung up the call, uttering a “bye.”
\---
Asma seemed like a sweet woman to Sheharzaad, yet she couldn't understand what Asma's
reason was to let her down, that too in front of the whole family. Sheharzaad had interacted
as little as she could with all the family members because she now experienced extreme
social anxiety, and for some reason, she was thankful to Shehryaar for not letting her out.
She didn't want to go either. After having her lunch, she spent her time offering her prayers,
strolling, enjoying the cool breeze on the balcony, and reading books. Those books were
boring. They were all non-fiction. Some historical. Most were about human psychology and
criminology. And some related to business as well. So, she got bored of those very soon. It
wasn't the genre she preferred. She liked fictional books, full of romance, where the main
lead was head over heels for the female lead. She liked reading love stories. Love stories
that had a happy ending.
She wondered what the ending of her love story would look like.
Will she ever be able to find love?
Love.
It now seemed a far notion. Unachievable. All she had for her husband was fear. Just plain,
dark, intense, and deep fear rooted within her brain. His displeased eyes were now enough
to churn her stomach tightly.
Love? No. There was no love. Rather, now she had lost the ability to love anybody.
Dreaming of a small happy family just remained dreams for her.
The thoughts were depressing her, so she turned on the TV. She didn't have her mobile
phone. Rather, she hadn't touched her phone for the last four months. Switching through
channels, she got bored of TV as well, and again her mind began to wander in the valley of
her thoughts.
Think. Think. And just think.
This had become her hobby now. She lived in her brain much more than she lived in a room.
She just used to think when she was in that cell. Waiting for the time when her jail would be
over. And in the haveli, she used to think about the marriage while reminiscing about her
friends and family. And now, she was clueless about what to think about.
What more was left in her life?
She was out of the cell.
She got married as well.
The two thoughts that had perturbed her were now accomplished... so now what?
It brought a hole in her heart.
She felt like a useless, aimless person who was clueless about where her life was heading.
And she didn't realize when she dozed off.
Her eyes opened, and it was already 9 p.m. There were no signs of his arrival. Her mind was
still overcoming the slumber. The sleep marks told her she had slept like no tomorrow.
Again, all she saw was a nightmare.
That night and her days in the cell repeating on and on. These dreams were becoming usual
since he had announced their wedding. Before that, she had them rarely, but for the past
few days, she was seeing similar things repetitively. Her anxiety levels were relatively high.
And she was stuck in her thoughts more often than ever. At times, the knife would look so
appealing to her to rub it against her wrist and taste death.
She shook her head, throwing these thoughts away. Her mind was playing with her.
As she got up, the door to her room opened, and Asma came in. She made Sheharzaad sit
beside her and held her hand.
"Daughter, I apologize for what I did in the morning."
"It's... it's fine."
"I was just saying it for your betterment, daughter. I want to see you happy with our son."
Sheharzaad passed her a nod, indicating she was listening to her.
"You should take care of him. I am actually very scared he might not take you as his mother
because his mother was exactly like you," Asma said, and at the same time, her eyes fell on a
shadow near the door. She knew he had come.
"Me?"
"She never cared for her husband. I've never seen her truly taking care of him. He loved her
a lot. Just like now, you haven't dressed up for Shehryaar? Why is that? This is the first day
of your wedding, and you're in these simple clothes. Your husband must be about to come.
You should set food and get ready for him. Is that because you haven't accepted this
marriage?"