Nothing Is Predictable Read online

  I was hoping Mom would warm to the idea and reconsider. Much to my surprise, she answered, “He may be an honorable man! He may be the best man out there! But he is not for you. He is a married man with children and for God’s sake, he is Muslim with different beliefs to yours. I am not condemning him for his religious differences, we all have the right to choose whatever religion we believe in. It’s just, his way of thinking will not work for you. You are too progressive for him.”

  “Oh Mom, Tariq is not old-fashioned. He is modernized, you know.”

  “I don’t care, he is not for you, no matter how modernized. He will go back to his strict traditions and beliefs, young lady, expecting you to be submissive, and that is my problem, you are not that type of woman.”

  “You know what? I don’t want to talk about this first thing in the morning. Let me enjoy my coffee!” I snapped back at her, shutting down the conversation.

  Chapter 15

  Marry me

  USA 1992

  Days went by, with Jamal constantly calling to convince me to see him. I finally gave in. I knew I would also be able to see Tariq that day if Mom thought I was with my ‘friend’ Jamal. Mom didn’t know about my relationship with Jamal. The only one who knew about him was my sister Evangeline.

  I stood in the park staring at the beautiful trees around me and as the breeze rustled through the leaves, I smelt something very familiar. Eau Sauvage, the cologne Jamal used to wear. I turned around and there he was, walking toward me, looking blonde and as gorgeous as ever, with his beautiful blue eyes. I didn’t know whether to run up to him, throw myself into his arms, and kiss him like in movies with a happy ending, or slap him. Of course, being the person, I am, I slapped him. He was shocked at my greeting, but he just laughed at me. I was smirking too.

  “So is this the violent wife I would have ended up with?” He laughed and embraced me lovingly.

  “Take it easy, soldier, take it easy, no need for loving embraces at the moment,” I said, trying to push him away.

  “Shut up and sit down, Zara. My God, you are just the same and still so beautiful. I miss you.”

  We sat on the ground. I sat about three feet away from him. I couldn’t help but melt when I smelt his cologne.

  “Okay, so what happened in London?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to waste time talking about that. The bottom line is, I thought I had a child and I had to go to London to find out without dragging you into it and ruining your life. But I come back to find you’re with someone who has three kids! Are you mad, girl?”

  “Okay, so it wasn’t your child. Is that why you’re back? Is everything resolved?”

  “Yeah, it’s all over, the settlement is over and everything is finalized and I’m free to live and do whatever I want and I want you, Zara, YOU! I want to go to your family right away and ask for your hand in marriage and never be parted from you ever again. You’ve been on my mind and in my thoughts the whole time I was overseas. You know those calls you were getting when no one answered? That was me, just wanting to hear your voice, I had to hear your voice.”

  “Oh my God! That was you the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you speak to me, Jamal? You know the pain I went through thinking you never loved me? You know how unworthy you made me feel? Why didn’t you speak to me? Why? If only you’d done that, none of this other stuff would have happened. You’re too late now.”

  I was enraged and emotional and I started crying and hitting him on the chest. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t hold back; the memories were too painful. In an instant, he grabbed my head, leapt forward and kissed me passionately. I couldn’t move, I was frozen, I didn’t want him to let go but at the same time, I didn’t want to give in. He then moved away slowly, kissed my hands and held them to his heart.

  “Let’s forget about the past, Zara, let’s move forward. I’m now in a position where I can move forward, unlike before. I don’t care if your family don’t approve of me. I’m pretty sure now that Tariq is in the picture I’ll look like the perfect option for them. He’s actually cleared the way for me! I should thank him. I don’t have three kids and I’m not still married.” He giggled.

  “Two kids!” I yelled, looking at the ground, numb with having Jamal right there in front of me after all this time. “Two kids!” I yelled again.

  “Zara! Ahhh…you are so stubborn at times! Seriously! You still think he has two kids? He has three kids! How dare he come to you and pursue you when he has a wife living with his mother!”

  “A wife living with his mother?” I yelled. “What other crap are you going to put on this guy? Seriously! What? That he’s a drug dealer as well?”

  “That one I haven’t heard, but it wouldn’t surprise me,” Jamal replied.

  “C’mon Jamal, that’s enough, you’re insulting me now.”

  Jamal stared into my eyes with love. I looked back at him, into the eyes I had fallen in love with. Then he put one hand on my cheek and got on to one knee and said, “I love you, I love you, I have always loved you. Marry me, Zara. Marry me, I don’t ever want to be parted from you again. Marry me.”

  Yes, he was on one knee and yes, he was my gorgeous Jamal who I couldn’t live without, and yes, he was everything I had dreamt of. So why was I not feeling something? Why couldn’t I say yes and throw myself into his arms, as I had always envisioned. I knew that what Jamal had said was right. Right then, from my family’s point of view, he would have been a dream match for me, even if only to keep me away from Tariq, and even though he was also Muslim. I knew Mom would instantly approve and be relieved I had chosen Jamal over Tariq. So why didn’t I answer Jamal without hesitation?

  “I can’t, Jamal, I’m sorry but I think I love Tariq now.”

  “What the hell do you mean you love Tariq? You don’t love him, you know you always loved me, this is just you rebelling against what happened between us and probably what your family did to you. Your sister Evangeline told me what your family did. Don’t tell me you love him, Zara, I know you still love me, otherwise you wouldn’t be here today.”

  I went silent and contemplated what he had just said. It made perfect sense. Although he was right, I wanted vengeance for the misery he had put me through.

  “I’m sorry, Jamal, I can’t, you’re too late.”

  I leant toward him, pressed my cheek against his cheek to feel his skin once more, and kissed him on the forehead with my eyes closed. I slowly ran my hand down his face to feel him for the last time, then stood up and ran away without looking back.

  I felt his pain; the pain of his heart being ripped out, the pain of wanting to run after me and never let me go, the same pain I’d felt when he’d driven off that day after telling me he was leaving for London.

  Why hadn’t I just said yes? It was all I had ever dreamt of.

  “Zara! Please come back, Zara! Zara!” he yelled, anguished, because he knew he had lost the battle.

  I ran away as fast as I could to escape his voice, entering a shopping center so I would lose him. I needed to regain the clarity I always lost when I was around him. His presence never failed to melt my heart. I seemed to surrender my identity to him and I had no control over my emotions.

  I knew I was still in love with him. His love had never left me. How could I forget my heart? Unfortunately, my stubbornness and the need to avenge his wrongdoing overcame my ability to forgive and forget the humiliation and abandonment he had put me through when he had left me on the street that day, and again when he had hung up on me when I’d called him in London.

  Although I understood the reasons, and knew his intentions had always been honorable, I still couldn’t forgive him for abandoning me so heartlessly.

  I wandered around the shopping center to distract myself from my emotional turmoil. I found a public telephone to call Tariq and felt comforted when I heard his voice. I knew he would never abandon me the way Jamal had. Tariq’s valiant defense of himself with my family had proved to me he would go t
o extreme measures.

  I confronted him about the three kids and the wife living with his mother, all of which he denied. He said they were lies. I decided to tell him about Jamal and admit it had been Jamal, my ex, ringing me, not my cousin. I told him he had returned; however, I didn’t tell him he had proposed to me. Tariq felt threatened by Jamal and shortly afterwards, I found out he had confronted Jamal without my knowledge to make sure he stayed away from me. I should have been annoyed about that but strangely enough, I wasn’t. Instead, I felt I was worth fighting a battle for. Maybe it was my nineteen-year-old naïve ego.

  In February 1992, Tariq and I eloped and secretly married in a Christian church. He respected my religion and had no problem with me remaining a Christian, as long as we respected each other’s beliefs and didn’t impose our beliefs on the other. I was happy to be married in a church and had no qualms about his beliefs because he was not a strict practicing Muslim.

  Meanwhile, back at the family, my marriage was regarded as a funeral. Family members condemned our union and sent their condolences to my mother and siblings. Everyone was shocked; the two who were most affected were my poor mother and Jamal. Mother mourned me and cried every day. She couldn’t accept what I had done and Jamal, well…

  Jamal and Evangeline

  Evangeline, at home reading with her kids who were watching TV when her husband was out, heard a knock on the door. She opened it to find Jamal on her doorstep.

  “Jamal, welcome! Please come in, are you okay?” Evangeline asked, opening the screen door to let him in.

  “Sorry to come unannounced. Is this a bad time? I really need to talk to you. I can’t handle what’s happened, I need to talk to someone who’s a part of her.”

  “Of course, would you like a coffee or tea, have you had dinner?” she asked.

  “Just a tea please.”

  Eva asked the kids to go to their rooms while Jamal sat in the TV room. His head was bowed and he looked devastated.

  “There you go, I’ll leave the sugar and milk here.” She sat down and then began to tear up. The pain she was enduring from my elopement along with the look of devastation on Jamal’s face were too much for her to bear.

  “I lost her, how could I let this happen? This is all my fault, I’m the one to blame for all this! This is all my fault, Evangeline.” He began to cry from the pain of his broken heart.

  Crying with him, she tried to comfort him.

  “Jamal, I know you love her. I don’t know what came over her because I know she loves you more than life itself. I don’t know how this happened.”

  “If only I had told her why I had to leave, none of this would have happened. I’m a fool to have handled it that way. I didn’t think she would consider another relationship so soon. Evangeline, please don’t hate your sister for what she did, I am to blame for her decision. This is my burden to carry.” He covered his face and began to cry uncontrollably.

  “Jamal, please, please don’t do this to yourself, this is killing us all. I don’t blame you for what she did, it was her decision, and her stubbornness led her to this.”

  “I love her, I love her, I have always loved her, Eva! I can’t live without her, and to think she is married now, I just can’t handle this. I struggled the whole time I was in London, waiting to find a way to come back to her. I was too late. Too late.”

  Eva replied, “She told me what happened. I’m not blaming you for what you did. I know you didn’t want her involved when you had unresolved marital issues. So what does she do? She runs off with someone who has kids! How ironic is that, seriously!”

  “It’s my fault, my fault, I should have included her in everything I went through without shutting her out. This is the price I have to pay.”

  “It’s the price all of us have to pay, not just you. Most importantly, I think she is the one who is going to pay the most,” Evangeline said.

  “I don’t care. If she leaves him, I’ll be here for her, I don’t care, I’m going to wait for her, I promise you, I know she won’t last with him, I know what he’s like, I promise you I will wait for her.”

  “Jamal, you can’t put your life on hold! She’s married now, and we don’t know how this will turn out. I don’t want her to know you still have hope. This time, she needs to make the right decision without pressure or influence from anyone else. If that’s how you feel, fine, I just do not want anyone pressuring her to make more decisions. I think the conundrum my family caused added to the pressure of her inability to think clearly, otherwise she wouldn’t have run off with him.”

  “Of course I won’t tell her. I can’t approach her now, she’s married for God’s sake. Oh God, the thought of saying she’s married makes me sick.”

  Evangeline was miserable to see Jamal a broken man. She respected and liked him. She had acknowledged our love and knew he genuinely loved me. However, the issue of his religion had made her keep her silence and now that this had happened, I think she regretted her silence and lack of support of us.

  * * *

  I wondered why everyone was so devastated. If the marriage didn’t work out, well it didn’t work out. There was no need for such drama. As for my wedding… Well, there was no wedding. The priest’s wife was my witness, because not even my friends supported my decision to marry Tariq.

  Our first three months were the same as with every marriage, the happy honeymoon period. It was all about the two of us and no one else mattered. However, as happy and settled as I felt, numerous times I still woke up from the nightmare about Dad. Sometimes I’d look at Tariq in disbelief, shocked that I had married him.

  Am I really married? How did this happen? These thoughts constantly went through my mind. Our marital intimacy caused me discomfort and an ill feeling in my stomach. Whenever we were sexually intimate, I repeatedly had flashing images of the old man. A few times he noticed I had my eyes tightly shut and asked if it was from physical pain or discomfort. I would not open up to him or let him know the emotional pain I had endured most of my life. That part of me was my dark shameful secret alone.

  His family never accepted me as his bride, for I was Christian. In a way, I was relieved and I didn’t care. The less interaction with them, the better was how I thought. Unlike him, they were extremely religious. Although my family wouldn’t accept him as a Muslim with children, after a few months, Mother couldn’t stand the pain of being separated from me and reconciled with me. My siblings respected her decision and followed suit. They didn’t want to banish me forever from the family, as Mother could not have endured it.

  Most of my uncles disagreed with my mother’s forgiveness and refused to reconcile with me. They turned away from her and condemned her decision. My mother always said to me, “The fire only hurts where it burns.”

  It would be interesting to know if those who condemned her would ever be able to abandon their own children under similar circumstances.

  Chapter 16

  Paranoia

  USA 1993

  Tariq and I were interacting with my immediate family, yet even though we all tried to make it work as best we could, I felt it was more pretense than acceptance on the part of my family.

  Tariq showed no negative traits during the first few months of our marriage. He was loving and generous toward me. He grew to love and respect my family for reconciling with us. I took a break from training and quit my job when I married Tariq because he didn’t want me to work for someone else. I decided to help Tariq with the business and since I was a graduate in business studies, I helped manage the stores and ran the administration from home.

  One day I was working on the computer when Tariq arrived home early from work. He greeted me as usual and went to the bedroom to change. I heard him mumble and fiddle with the door, then he threw something in the bedroom and broke it before charging out to me.

  “Who was here today?” he asked furiously.

  “No one, why?” I replied vaguely while I continued to type.

  “Why is ou
r photo frame face down on the dressing table?”

  “What are you talking about? Is that what you broke? You’re seriously asking me this stupid question?” I replied cynically.

  “Our photo together, why is it facing down and not upright?”

  I stopped typing and slowly turned around, looking at him in annoyance.

  “Firstly! This is the dumbest question you have ever asked me and secondly! Did you consider perhaps the photo just fell? I mean, what are you implying? That I deliberately put it face down. Really?”

  “You make sure that it always faces up, okay? Also, did Troy ring you today? Don’t joke around with him anymore! I know what he’s like. It only takes a smile from a woman for him to make a move on her.”

  “Am I hearing what I’m hearing? You’re being ridiculous here, cut it out! What the hell are you accusing me of? Am I not capable of talking to anyone maturely? This is bullshit, you’re upsetting me now,” I snapped, and turned back to the computer.

  He shrugged me off and went to have a shower. I was so upset with him, I didn’t speak to him all evening and didn’t even make dinner. Instead, I worked on the computer until bedtime. As I lay in bed, he apologized for his behavior, kissed me goodnight, and went to sleep. I was awake most of the night contemplating why he had acted that way. It was bizarre and unacceptable and seemed so unlike him. I had no idea why he was acting so paranoid.

  Weeks went by and many times when he arrived home, I noticed him acting strangely. One day he lost his temper at me, asking me why his bathrobe was wet and hanging on the door. He bombarded me with paranoid questions.

  “Who was here?”

  “Who wore my robe?”

  “Why is my robe wet?”

  That day, I had used his robe accidentally, which was why it was wet. Our robes were the same and I’d simply mistaken his for mine. Something so minor didn’t warrant such a frantic reaction and these ridiculous accusations.