As Long As I Live

Reconciliation

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*****

It was painful.

She could feel the eyes of all of her relatives, both close and distant, staring at her. Every few minutes someone would come up to her and congratulate her on her wedding and move away as quickly as they would come. It was harsh. It was heartbreaking.

Not one of her cousins had come up. She didn't have any friends. So she sat all alone at the stage, dressed in the finest clothes and jewelry but barely able to hold back her tears.

This wasn't how her walima should've been.

It should have been fun, with all her friends and cousins coming up to tease her and never leave her side till her husband came to collect her. Her aunties should've been showering blessings upon her and her mother should've asked her over and over if she was happy with Aamir, if he had been treating her well.

Nobody came. Nobody teased. Nobody blessed. Nobody asked.

She sat with her head lowered, her cheek still hurting from Aamir's slap that had required tons of makeup to conceal. Tears sprung to her eyes.

She had heard from Sameera that the walima was meant to be the happiest day of any woman's life because the wedding day would be full of fear of leaving the family behind whereas the walima would be a celebration of the knowledge that the family the bride had married into would love her no less. There would be no crying on the walima, no sadness and no apprehension. Just pure bliss.

That was how it was meant to be. Not for her though. It didn't matter in her case because there had been no fear, apprehension or sadness to begin with. Her parents had been so happy to be rid of her. They didn't care. Aamir didn't care. Nobody cared.

What had her life become?

Mayra shook her head clear of those memories as she stood before the door of her parents' house. She couldn't bring herself to knock at it yet for her brain replayed memory after memory where her parents had made it abundantly clear that she was no more a part of their lives.

Mayra still didn't know what her the most about her parents - the fact that they chose to believe her friend's lies over their daughter's truth or their indifference to Aamir's crimes against her. Or may be both had hurt her equally bad - so great in their torment that it didn't matter which was worse. Both equally shattering, equally catastrophic.

She wanted to turn around and run away. She wasn't ready to do this. Aamir was right when he made her rethink the decision to come here by saying that just because he had reconciled with his father didn't mean that she had to do so with her own parents right away. She could take this at her own pace, deal with them when she felt ready. But she seriously doubted if she would ever feel ready enough or strong enough.

It had to be done.

Before her courage gave out she lifted her hand and knocked at the door twice.

Waiting for the door to be opened, she prayed for courage, she hoped for strength. She kept telling herself that all wouldn't magically be alright again but somewhere deep in her heart she longed to be the child that she was, loved and adored by her parents, to keep the illusion alive that the past two years had never happened.