The Rain

Shamim knew that she loved him. But it happened every time he tried to touch her. Those voices. “Nuisance. Clumsy child. Try to smile, at least.” Those were the words she’d grown up listening to. Her childhood mantra.

He said: “Beautiful”, between appreciating breaths. Her body responded, ecstatic. Her mind said: “Liar!”

And so she froze. He thought she didn’t like him anymore. Or worse still, as today’s encounter revealed: “It’s another man, isn’t it?” a biting disgust in his words.

She looked at him in shocked silence. He rose and stormed from the room without another word. She dragged the crumpled cotton bed sheet with her and made her way toward the dress mirror.

Her sunken eyes and medusa-like curls made for a disheveled picture. She was too short. Her nose was too long. Her face a bit round. And her forehead almost square.

Her mother came from a lineage of graceful Kashmiri women. Her two sisters were fortunate enough to have inherited these traits. Flawless skin. Gleaming grey-green eyes. Lithe beautiful figures. She was destined to be the odd one out, to look like the father that had walked out on them.

All she knew about him was that he came from Sindhi Pakistan. And even though she was too young to have committed his face to memory, it stared back at her every time she looked into the mirror. Raven black hair, olive skin and deep dark eyes.

She failed to see the fairness of it all. Or the humour. She felt unbeautiful. Not ugly, just diminished. She thought about Nafees. He deserved more. She wasn’t it. But she couldn’t think of being with another man. She loved only him. It made no sense that he would even think she might have been. He was just frustrated. She desired him, but her body frequently disobeyed her. And now he knew just how unbeautiful she was. Everyone who found out left her. And soon, he too, would leave her.

*    *    *

“Dammit!” Nafees cursed the darkness. He stubbed his toe on a badly laid paving stone outside the house. But he needed the night air. He inhaled, hoping the fresh air would displace his muddled thoughts. Two years of marriage, and what had it got him? He could feel her slipping away, as if he didn’t matter to her anymore. She spent her days hiding behind the screen of her laptop.
He had rushed through his day of meetings and audits to get home. There was no peace to be found at the office. His firm was being threatened by closure. His career was about to go up in smoke. No, flames! The might of the corporate world was like that - a raging fire, devouring everything in its path. His mini-accounting firm was struggling to keep up. Nafees could feel the bile of fear rising in his throat. He was about to lose it all. His company, his wife ... and his sanity.

The cigarette felt musty from his sweaty grip. He fumbled in his pockets for the Zippo lighter. He found only the keys to the BMW. Shit. Where’s the lighter? No lighter meant no relief. Irritated, he flicked the damp cigarette into the flower bed. He didn’t want to go back into the house. But it was going to be a long night. He needed to take a drive.

*    *    *

This morning was a special torture for Shamim. She rarely slept at night and looked forward to a few hours of sleep after Nafees left for work. But now it was 7am and there was no sign of him. What time had he left for work? She really needed to talk to him. Last night had been unsettling. He’d been upset. She’d been hurt. Nothing would be resolved by silence. Or by avoiding each other.

The phone rang. That would be him.

“Hello?”

She heard the crackle of static on a bad line. But no reply.

“Hi, Nafees?”

“Shamim, hi. It’s me.” It was a female voice, not his. Shamim felt the earlier heaviness grip her throat.

“It’s me … Ruby,” her best friend chuckled. “Are you ready to be picked up?”

“Hey Rubes. Err, for what?”

“Our breakfast date? Remember? Chocolate brownies at RJ’s and a fitting with the designer for my wedding gown. You absolutely have to see this dress, honey. It’s dreamy.”

Ruby sounded beside herself with excitement. Shamim knew she’d be awful company today, but she couldn’t let Ruby down.

“I need an hour to shower and…”

“Half an hour is all you get,” Ruby said. “I’m on my way.”

Shamim stared at the phone receiver. Ruby had been her friend since that awkward first year at university. Through the ten years they’d been friends, they had shared love and broken hearts in the way that sisters might. She would have to be there for Ruby. She owed it to her. But she was also just beginning to see a different side of love, so she wasn’t sure she could mirror her friend’s enthusiasm.

*    *    *

Shamim left the house with Ruby under a clear, sunny sky. She returned a few hours later, drenched by the mid-afternoon summer rain. The electric gates in front of the house struggled to open. Clumps of mud plastered the wheel rails. The wheels made their squish, slosh complaint as they obeyed the motor’s command.

Ruby didn’t come in with her. She was in a hurry to see her fiancé. Once inside, Shamim reached for a towel from the guest bathroom to dry her hair. She loved the rain. Rainy days reminded her of when she first fell in love with Nafees. Of the hours spent in the campus coffee shop when lecture halls seemed too far away. Of the days at the bus stop when he waited with her until the rain subsided. Rainy days reminded her of her wedding day. And of those endless nights of their honeymoon on the coast.

She removed her soaked shoes and plodded toward her room. Then she gasped. She heard his footsteps behind her as she stopped dead in the doorway.

“Oh my,” he said. “When did this happen?” His hand on her shoulder was reassuring.

“I ... I just got home. I don’t know how this happened.”

Their bedroom was flooded. The Persian rug did its best to soak up the insidious liquid. The cream carpets were a shade of grey from drinking too much. And the drip,drip,drip from two of the four down lights revealed the treacherous point of entry. She looked up to see a crack forming between the two lights. Tiny, hair like, but ominous.

“Nafees, this is awful.” She was crying.

“Hey,” he said. “It happens. Roofs leak sometimes. Our stuff’s insured. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

She was scared. She realised she had been for some time. Scared of losing him, of losing everything that meant anything to her.

She looked to him for comfort and saw a familiar softness in his eyes. She felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of that unwavering love he’d once felt for her.

She wanted to believe in it. She wanted to believe the insurance would pay for new carpets and ceilings. She wanted to believe that rain could still be pretty and filled with romantic memories. She wanted, more than ever, to believe that they were going to be okay. That he still loved her. And that he wasn’t going to leave her.

His hand caressed her cheek. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.
Copyright Shafinaaz Hassim

Shafinaaz Hassim was a participant on our Preparation for Romance Course. Read The Raft by Gail Gilbride Bohle who also did the Preparation for Romance Course.

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