Written in the Stars

by Aisha Saeed

  “That’s the thing. There is no misunderstanding, and if you think I will keep it to myself, you are very mistaken.”

  Before I can respond, Saba simply walks away.

  “Naila.”

  I look over. It’s Feiza. Her face is pallid.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She puts a finger over her mouth and motions me toward her bedroom.

  I follow her inside and watch her press her ear against the closed door before she grips the lock and fastens it.

  “We need to talk,” she whispers. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” My stomach sinks. I don’t need to ask. I see her expression. I know.

  “I’m just going to say it. I’m not going to run around it.” She takes a breath. “Saba came to me a little bit ago. She wanted me to go with her to talk to Nasim. She says you are having an affair. She says she saw you with a man.”

  I move to speak, but nothing comes out.

  “I know, Naila—I’m sure it’s just Saba being Saba,” she says. “You know her, always causing trouble. When do you have time to do anything of any sort? It’s the new man she’s talking about, I think. The one who’s been in town. We saw him at the market, remember? He’s wandering about, doesn’t talk to anyone. Sometimes he’s with another man, an older one, but no one has ever seen them before. People are always trying to find some new story to spin. I just don’t understand why she would spin you into it. She doesn’t realize that your reputation is now tied with ours—Naila? Are you okay?”

  My breath is coming out in gasps. My shoulders tremble.

  “Naila,” she exclaims, “it’s not true, right? She’s lying, right?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. Whatever I say, no one will believe me.”

  “I will believe you. Just tell me it’s not true. Tell me what’s happening. A lot is at stake.”

  I squeeze my hands together tightly until my knuckles are white.

  “Whether what Saba is saying is true or people just believe it to be true, there really is no difference. It won’t be good,” Feiza says urgently. “Why would she say such a thing?”

  “‘Won’t be good’? Nothing has been good for as long as I can remember now.” I rub my temples as Feiza stares at me in disbelief. “Feiza, I’m going to tell you what is really happening. It seems I no longer have a choice.”

  With a trembling voice, I tell her everything. About Saif. About my marriage.

  Feiza presses a hand against her mouth. “I should have known. We all took it as a cultural thing, the way you just seemed so strange when you first moved here. We thought it was about you being from America, maybe you were homesick or maybe you didn’t like us. But I should have figured it out. I should have known something like this had happened.”

  “You had no way of knowing. None of you had any idea. I realized that soon. How could you know why I was sad?”

  “Sad.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Life is full of sadness. It’s part of being a woman. Our lives are lived for the sake of others. Our happiness is never factored in. Do I want this life? Living here and seeing my husband a few times a year, raising my daughter alone? I don’t know what it was like for you in America, but this is how life is. This is reality. But this advice is coming too late. It’s meaningless now.”

  “I just need until tomorrow evening,” I tell her. “Can’t I figure out a way to get her to stay quiet for just that long?”

  “Gossip spreads faster than kerosene fire,” Feiza says. “If she doesn’t say it, who knows who else might.”

  “But I have no place to go.” A tear slips down my cheek. “Maybe I should just tell Amin. He gets in first thing tomorrow.”

  “Tell him?” Feiza says. “And then what?” There’s an edge to her voice I have never heard before. “You think he’ll press a hand on your head and give you his blessings? You’re not his child, Naila. You’re not some distant cousin. You’re his wife. You think you’re going to tell him and he’s going to help you pack your things? You honestly think he’ll help you? You have no idea what might happen.”

  I stare at her. I remember the conversation from three months ago. When he learned the nature of our marriage. When he asked me if I wanted to leave. When he said it was too late.

  “If Saba knows,” Feiza says, “then soon everyone in this house will know. And Nasim, she’s going to call your uncle. Amin might stop her if he can. But you know her. And you know your uncle. You’re not safe here anymore.” She stands up. “I don’t know what to say. I wish I could help you. But I should go. I have to be careful too. If I’m seen talking to you, when Nasim realizes I knew and said nothing . . .” Her eyes glisten. She wordlessly walks out of the room.

  Chapter 50

  I spend the night staring out the window, trying to think of options, alternatives, but nothing comes to mind. My heart sinks when the pink tint of morning arrives. The house is still silent.

  No one knows. Yet.

  I pace the house. Amin should be home in the morning. Saba hasn’t said anything to her mother. She’s waiting for Amin, I’m sure. She wants to be the one to tell him. I need to stall her for just today. I need to not leave Amin’s side, so she has no chance to corner him.

  I hear a dull thud. The sound of a car door shutting outside. I move to the foyer just as the front door creaks open. It’s Amin. He steps in, fresh-faced and smiling in a gray suit and blue tie. I catch his gaze, and he smiles. My stomach hurts knowing what I must say. Before either of us can speak, the clatter of plates reverberates through the house.

  “Beta,” Nasim exclaims, pushing past me to embrace him.

  “Ami.” He laughs, trying to disentangle himself from her tight hug. “I was gone for less than a week.”

  “It’s not easy for a mother when both her sons are away.” She wipes a tear from her eye.

  He looks over at me and shakes his head apologetically.

  “You’re finally home.”

  It’s Saba. She walks up to join us but stands at a distance. Her arms are crossed. Her lips curl for a second, and she opens her mouth to speak when we hear loud shrieks of laughter. Zaina runs into the foyer and topples into Amin’s arms. I watch Amin lift her up and toss her in the air. Zaina laughs until her face flushes red.

  “The puris are fresh,” Nasim announces. “Let’s go while they’re still hot.”

  I look at Saba. She is eager to tell him. I can see how she’s trying to catch Amin’s eye.

  I won’t last until tonight. I need to talk to him first.

  After breakfast, I follow him to the bedroom.

  “I feel like I was gone a month!” He turns to me. “It’s good you didn’t come.” He loosens his tie. “We spent the whole time in and out of meetings. I don’t even know if Karachi has a sun.” He laughs until he sees my drawn expression.

  “What’s the matter?”

  I take a deep breath. Looking at him, I suddenly feel shaky. He told me once he wouldn’t help me, but that was before. He knows me now. I can tell in the way he looks at me, the way he defends me from his sister, he loves me. And yet I know that love does not stop people from hurting one another. I know love does not guarantee he can do what I want to ask him to do.

  But what other choice do I have?

  There’s a knock at the door. “What are you two doing?” It’s Nasim. “Ruqaya and her husband are here. Don’t be rude.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” he calls. He turns to me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, you know my mother, she—”

  The door handle shakes.

  He lets out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’ll probably only be a half hour.”

  I watch him press his hand on the doorknob and open it. I look up at the clock. It’s noon. Please stay longer than thirty minutes, I pray. Stay all day. I have eight hours to go. Then I’m free.


  * * *

  “Please come visit us again,” Nasim says.

  Ruqaya and her husband are in the foyer putting their shoes on. After the disastrous encounter with her sister, Nasim staved off most guests, but now, guests come regularly. Ruqaya, who stands before me, struggling to clasp the tops of her black shoes, is still my favorite. Despite my frequent attempts, she knows little beyond “hello” and “good-bye,” but that does nothing to diminish her enthusiasm for learning English.

  “Okay,” she says now, her face scrunched up in concentration. “I will. See you. Later.”

  I pretend to smile. I have no time for this today. Today I need to figure out what to do.

  Nasim shuts the door after they leave and locks it. “Do you have to teach English to everyone you meet?” She rolls her eyes. “How about practicing your Urdu while you’re still in Pakistan?”

  Just then I hear the sound of footsteps stomping past me. “Feiza,” Saba calls out, “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m about to put Zaina down for a nap.”

  The footsteps continue, faster, and then a door shuts in the distance.

  I get up, my heart pounding. I walk quietly down the hallway until I am in front of Feiza’s room. I hesitate before pressing my ear to the door.

  “Feiza, why won’t you believe me?”

  “Saba, maybe someone did just need a ride on the tonga. Why should we assume the worst, especially of someone in our own family?”

  “I saw him three different times! He’s been lurking around. What is he here for? I’ve heard he won’t take his eyes off of her when he sees her. I know it’s not just a rumor!”

  “So, Saba, what are you saying? That all the men who stare at us know us? That there are secrets behind each look?”

  “You know that’s not what I’m saying. Something is going on. No one has ever seen this man before here. And haven’t you noticed how strange she’s been acting lately? The way she just daydreams during dinner? The way she seems lost in thought all the time?”

  “Saba, she’s always been quiet. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I’ll let my brother and mother decide what it means. First thing, as soon as I have both of them in front of me, I’m telling them what I know.”

  “Don’t do this,” Feiza pleads. “She will have no place to go. You know what will happen if you say something. Think about what you’re doing. She’ll be sent back, and then her uncle? He’ll kill her. You know he will. Don’t do this.”

  Beads of sweat form on my forehead. My mouth goes dry. I back away from the door.

  A moment later, Saba emerges. I watch her walk to her bedroom. She slams her door.

  I hear the creak of pipes through the walls. Amin is showering. I look at Saba’s door and hesitate for a moment before making my way there. Maybe she is the key. I have to stall her long enough to give me a few more hours. Just until the evening comes. Without knocking, I step inside.

  “We need to talk.”

  Saba looks up, genuinely surprised. She is in bed, a book in her lap. I take a deep breath. Each word must be spoken with a full appreciation of its consequences.

  “Saba, I know you don’t like me, but I wanted to talk to you about what you said to me the other day, what you thought you knew—”

  “Thought? I know what I know. If you came here to try to convince me otherwise—”

  “I know what you want to do, but you don’t know all the facts. Please don’t do something you will regret.” I walk closer to her and close my eyes. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to tell her this.

  “Saba, I’m pregnant.”

  My jaw clenches. I see Saba’s blank expression.

  “Pregnant?” An amused look spreads across her face.

  “Yes. I wanted to tell you so you would think carefully before you decided to say anything to anyone. Especially things that aren’t true. There is a lot at stake.”

  “Pregnant! That is wonderful news.” She places her book to the side and stands up. “I’m just curious, though. Who is the father?”

  I gasp. “Saba! Who do you think?”

  She raises her hands in the air. “Easy, now. It’s a simple question—no need to get defensive. How am I supposed to know? It’s funny, though . . .” She trails off as she now looks at me. “No one told me you were pregnant. That’s the sort of news I would have heard by now, unless of course you were keeping it a secret.”

  “I wasn’t sure I was until recently. That’s the only reason.”

  “So my dear brother does not even know? You haven’t told a soul, but you’re telling me?”

  I hoped by talking to Saba, she would understand, but now, as I look at Saba’s smile, I realize there will be no mercy.

  Chapter 51

  The call to prayer can be heard in the distance. I close my eyes. I try to take in the melodic voice as it resonates through the loudspeakers of the minaret. I consider praying. I yearn for peace, but my heart beats too quickly. My mind races with all the different possibilities. Peace is elusive.

  It’s been hours since I spoke to Saba. So far she hasn’t said a word. Still, I know reprieve is temporary. I feel like prey, hunted and caught, toyed with until the time is right. I try to imagine what will happen when Saba tells everyone. I shudder. What will they do? Will it even matter that I’m Amin’s wife? Will it matter that I’m carrying Nasim’s grandchild?

  I think of my chacha. Does he know about the rumors of my affair? What will he do when he does?

  I take a deep breath, trying to still my nerves. I watched Amin minutes earlier, but he was in the kitchen playing with Zaina while Nasim cooked dinner. I was going to call his name, remind him I needed to talk to him, but Feiza’s words made me pause. What if she’s right? What if going to him will make things worse? What if the best recourse is to say nothing and hope Saba waits until tomorrow to break the news?

  My small bag is packed. My wedding gold, some money, some dried fruit to last us a few days if we need it. I never found my passport, but we can deal with that when we have to, when we’re far away from here. When we’re safe. I think of Saif and shudder. I hope he listened to me and is safely indoors.

  Suddenly, I freeze.

  There is a man’s voice, but it is laced with too much anger to be Amin. The voice comes from a distance. I walk into the dining room. Down the hallway. I hear the voice again.

  It is Amin.

  “I will not tolerate it! I will not!” Nasim’s voice grows louder.

  I press my back against the foyer wall.

  I can see Amin’s face now. He steps into the kitchen in the distance. Saba trails behind; she looks furious.

  “What kind of magic has she done on you? Why won’t you listen to what we’re trying to tell you? You are going to take her word over mine? Your sister’s?”

  “Ami, Saba. You both have hated her since she came here. You never gave her a chance. I don’t care if there are rumors, it doesn’t make them true! There are new rumors every day. People talk about it and then they move on. You would say anything to turn me against her.”

  “Turn you against her?” Saba yells. “Do you hear yourself? I’m your sister, and I am telling you she is having an affair under your nose, and you are accusing us?”

  “I don’t care if the rumors are true,” Nasim interrupts. “Everyone is talking, Amin. They’re laughing at us! Don’t you care what is happening to our family?”

  Saba walks away from the kitchen. Before I can move, she spots me. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment. They are filled with venom.

  “Why don’t you ask her for yourself?” She points to me. “Maybe then you will see we’re not liars!”

  I watch Amin emerge. Nasim is steps behind him. Amin’s eyes are red, his face flushed. Looking at me, his eyes soften.

  “I’m so sorry.” He takes
a step toward me. “I don’t know what is going on here. Everyone has just lost their minds. It’s the only explanation.”

  Saba walks past him and up to me, her eyes narrow. “So have you told him yet? All the things you confessed to me?” Before I can respond, she turns to Amin. “Did you know your wife was pregnant?”

  Amin stares at my stomach. Looking up at me, he swallows. “Pregnant?”

  “Wasn’t important enough to tell your husband?” says Nasim with a triumphant expression. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t tell him or us this wonderful news unless you had something to hide.”

  “Naila . . .” He stares at me. “Is it true?”

  I struggle to find my voice. I’ve seen this scene unfolding since Saba threatened me, and yet now that it’s here, I don’t know how to begin.

  “Amin. Yes. But can we talk in private? I can explain everything to you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” His face is white like paper.

  “Look, let’s just go to our room. Please, let’s go to our room, let’s talk—”

  “No, there’s no more talking in private,” Nasim says. “I knew what you were for a very long time, but you’ve revealed your true colors to everyone, including my son, all on your own now.”

  “Amin”—my voice trembles—“it’s not what you think. If you just talk to me, I can explain to you. I didn’t do anything that they’re accusing me of. I swear it.”

  Nasim walks up to me. Her face is inches from mine. I can feel her heavy breathing, see the perspiration forming on her forehead. “Feiza, get her things.” She doesn’t take her eyes off of me.

  “Ami, please—”

  “Don’t you dare say anything. You do what you are told this minute.”

  Feiza looks at me and then, lowering her face, her lips quivering, she walks away.