Drifted Apart

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Momina Abdul Majeed

"Yes, I do." The words came out of my mouth in a whisper, more like a plea than a statement. A plea to save my Murad, even if it meant to sacrifice myself in the way. I was ready for it. I didn't deserve him, anyway. He didn't deserve anyone like me.

The Qazi went again, "Do you, Momina Abdul Majeed, daughter of Arif Abdul Majeed, accept Humdaan Sheikh son of Azeem Sheikh as your husband?"

"Yes, I do." This one came out a little faster than the one before.

And he went again.

As I opened my mouth, the door flew open, getting all of us, startled, including Humdaan. He clearly wasn't expecting guests in here. All eyes turned to look at the 2 police officers standing with their guns pointed at us.

"What the f*ck? How did they get in here?" Cursed Humdaan, furrowing his brows. I turned to look at the Qazi, who was already making his way towards the officers, speaking to one of them, while the officer listened to him intently with all his attention. It was the help he has promised, that arrived just in time.

A few seconds later a medic emerged from behind him and came rushing towards Murad, who was kneeling before Humdaan.

The gun that Humdaan had pointed towards Murad was taken away by the officer. But it was growing hard to keep Humdaan still. He kept fighting, pushing, and kicking, cursing at everyone who came near him. But the officers had it under control when they handcuffed him, behind his back and held him by the neck, pushing him forwards and taking him away.

My eyes landed on the medic trying to treat Murad, who kept resisting, pushing his hand away trying to get on his feet but failing every time. An officer walked to my side and undid all the strings that held me in place. The moment he was done untieing me, I sprinted across the room to where Murad was and wrapped my arms around his torso. He reeked of blood, but I couldn't care less now, that I was here with him. Moments later he hugged me back, tightening his grip around my waist, holding me close, pushing me to his chest.

He broke the embrace, held my hand in his with a firm grip, yet careful enough not to further hurt the bruises on my wrist, and led me out of that cursed place. I was blinded by the light and the fresh air that welcomed me. It felt like ages since I last felt this alive. We walked down the street to Murad's car, holding each other like if we let go, we are going to break apart.

He opened the car door for me and made me sit, not missing to do the seatbelt for me. And jogged around, sitting in the driver's seat. None of us said anything till now. He pulled out a phone..my phone from his pocket and tossed it over to me, saying "Call Mom. She was worried about you." He tells me. His voice plain, void of any emotion, the complete opposite of his actions.

I switched it on, and scrolled through the contacts lists to find her name and tapped on the call icon with trembling fingers. Murad must've seen me hesitate "Don't worry. It will be fine. She doesn't know anything. Just make up some sh*t to tell her."

He said, his eyes on the road in front of him. It's then I noticed his bruised knuckles, which were currently white due to his grip on the steering wheel.

"Momina!" He called, breaking the trance I was in. "Yeah, ok," I said and called Mom.

It was like she was waiting for him to call her because she picked it up on the first ring.

"Murad! It's been 3 hours where we--"

"Assalamoalaikum mom." I greeted her.

"Oh, Momina! Walaikumassalam my daughter. I was so worried about you! What kind of behavior is this? Do you have any clue about the state I was in? Why do you have a phone if you just had to cut off from the world? Do you have any idea what sort of thoughts crossed my mind? Even Murad didn't know about you till I called him myself!" And she went on scolding me, being a mother for the kid I was. And I had to play my role and shut my mouth, not wanting to become the reason for someone's pain anymore.

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