His Other Wife

by Umm Zakiyyah

  Jacob heard the offense and accusation in his father’s voice, and Jacob couldn’t tell what was more offensive to his father, the divorce or the fact that Jacob didn’t consult him first. But because it wasn’t a question, Jacob remained quiet, a loose fist beneath his chin as he leaned an elbow on the arm of the small couch that was situated at an angle to where his parents sat on the larger, wider sofa. He did not feel even the slightest inclination to respond. But in his mind, he marveled at how parents could remain so stuck in time as to imagine that their son, a grown man, was still a child. Did they really imagine that he had taken marriage lightly simply because they were unable to personally validate his struggles?

  “Your father and I are just concerned about you,” Ruth interjected, her tone soft, but Jacob detected the offense in her tone too. She was hoping her gentle approach would convince him to open up and confide in them. “Please help us understand what happened.”

  “I filed for a divorce,” Jacob said, “and I hope by this time next week, it’s final.”

  Ruth drew in a deep breath and exhaled audibly, a clear sign that she was losing patience with her son. “Jacob, this is not a game,” she said, her voice tight in offense. “Marriage isn’t something you throw away when you get tired. It’s for life.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jacob said.

  “In God’s eyes,” Malcolm said authoritatively, “marriage is for life.” It was obvious that the mention of God was supposed to make Jacob feel guilty.

  “I don’t believe marriage is a divine prison sentence,” Jacob said, careful to keep his tone level. “Marriage is a divine mercy, not a punishment.”

  “Marriage is what you make it,” Ruth said, her tone conveying the offense she’d felt at Jacob’s statement. “If it feels like a punishment, it’s because you didn’t put in the work to experience the mercy.”

  Jacob shook his head. “I don’t agree with that. There are people in abusive relationships, and it’s not their fault.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Malcolm said. “We’re not talking about abusive relationships. We’re talking about your relationship.”

  “You and Deanna are a beautiful couple,” Ruth said as if chiding him.

  “And that means we should stay together?” Jacob said, looking at his mother with a hurt expression on his face.

  “Look, son,” Malcolm interjected, lifting his hand as if to request a truce. “All we want to do is understand what happened so we can help.”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Jacob said, his voice apologetic. “I’ve already made my decision. You don’t have to blame yourselves.”

  “But this is unacceptable,” Ruth blurted. “No Bivens has ever gotten a divorce.”

  So there it is, Jacob thought bitterly, the real reason they’re so hurt. He was almost relieved that it was out in the open. Now they could talk more honestly. “I hope to change that,” Jacob said, careful that there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice.

  But his mother sucked in her breath as if he’d slapped her. “What?” Ruth said, indignant, and Malcolm patted his wife’s leg to calm her. “How could you say something like that?”

  “Because it’s true,” Jacob said, speaking more confidently. “It’s not an honor that none of us are divorced. It’s a burden. I suspect there are others in a similar situation who don’t realize getting out is an option.”

  “And what about the children?” his mother said, voice rising in an accusatory tone.

  “What about them?” Jacob said, careful not to sound as defensive as he felt. He hated when people behaved as if they cared more about his sons than he did.

  “What will happen to them, Jacob?” Ruth spoke as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. “They can’t just be tossed back and forth with no real home.”

  “They have two parents, and that’s not going to change,” Jacob said.

  “Have you read the statistics on children of divorce?” she challenged. “They’re significantly more likely to get a divorce themselves.”

  “Yes, I have,” Jacob said. “And I have no problem with that.”

  “How could you have no problem with being the cause of your children being more likely to break up their family?” she said in exasperation.

  “Because I’ll never understand how in the name of happily-ever-after,” Jacob said, voice rising in conviction, “a family breakup could be worse than the emotional and psychological breakdown of another human being.”

  The room grew quiet, and the weight of Jacob’s words hung in the room. He had no idea if his parents’ silence was due to the profundity of his statement or the depth of their shock and disagreement.

  “Yes, maybe my decision will make divorce a more likely option for Younus and Thawab when they’re older,” Jacob added confidently. “But I’m happy to be an example to them so they’ll know when enough is enough.”

  The look on his parents’ faces was difficult to read, but Jacob went on. “And that’s much more preferable,” he said, “than raising children who confuse being driven to mental illness with being patient in marriage.”

  The silence in the room remained so long that Jacob was almost certain he’d offended his parents.

  “No one wants what’s best for my sons more than I do,” Jacob said sincerely, his voice low out of respect for his parents’ heightened sensitivities. “That’s why I didn’t leave Deanna sooner.”

  A troubled expression lingered on his parents’ faces, but he could tell they weren’t inclined to respond.

  Jacob shook his head, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I know you want to understand what happened. But that’s not something I’m ready to share with you or anyone right now,” he said. “Yes, we’re getting a divorce, and it’s for a good reason.” He paused before adding, “But our privacy and dignity are more important than your understanding and agreement.”

  ***

  Aliyah heard her mobile phone ringing just after she’d finished working with Ibrahim on his homeschool assignments. She walked out of his room and hurried down the hall to her own and quickly glanced at the caller ID before accepting the call and putting the phone to her ear.

  A grin spread on her face as she said, “As-salaamu’alaikum.”

  “Wa’alaiku-mus-salaam wa-rahmatullaahi wa barakaatuh,” Jacob replied, happiness evident in his voice.

  “Why the good mood?” Aliyah said, giggling as she closed her room door then walked over to her bed and sat on the edge.

  “Because I get to hear your voice after an aggravating meeting with my parents,” his deep voice said through the phone.

  Aliyah smirked. “Well, I’m glad there’s an upside to this.”

  A second later she frowned and her tone became more serious. “But is everything okay with you and your parents?”

  She heard Jacob let out a laugh. “No,” he said, humor in that sound, “but that’s nothing new. They just want to save me from the horrible fate of divorce.”

  “Oh, that,” Aliyah said, smiling and rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “At least they’re not trying to save you from the horrible fate of Islam,” she said in grim humor.

  “That’ll probably be our next meeting,” Jacob said.

  “Really?” Aliyah said as if genuinely surprised. “I thought they’d given up trying to get you to change your religion.”

  “Maybe they have…” Jacob said thoughtfully. “But I think it’s more of a temporary truce.”

  “So how’d they find out about the divorce?” Aliyah asked.

  “Apparently, Deanna paid them a surprise visit yesterday,” he said, exhaustion in his tone.

  Aliyah frowned empathetically. “Oh no…”

  “And she told them I’m the one who wants the divorce, but she’s trying to be the better person and reconcile.”

  Aliyah rolled her eyes, unable to temper the aggravation she felt right then. “She’s still talking about reconciliation?”

  “Still?” Jacob repeated, laughter in h
is voice. “She never wanted reconciliation,” he said. “She just wanted me sentenced to being her husband for life. Every time I suggested marriage counseling, she refused.”

  “You told them that?” Aliyah asked curiously.

  “No,” Jacob said with a sigh. “I didn’t tell them much of anything. But they kept pushing for details.”

  “That’s understandable,” Aliyah said sincerely. “They have no idea what happened.”

  “And they don’t need to,” Jacob said, irritation in his voice, but Aliyah could tell it wasn’t directed at her. “I told them our privacy and dignity are more important than their understanding and agreement.”

  Aliyah nodded thoughtfully, reflecting on what Jacob had said. “I like that, mashaAllah,” she said. “I need to pen that in my journal or hang it on my wall.”

  “Well, I’m glad somebody agrees,” Jacob said.

  “Agrees?” Aliyah repeated, laughter in her voice. “Why would I disagree?” she said. “I wish I would’ve thought to say that to every nosey person who kept asking why Matt and I got a divorce.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s like people feel your divorce isn’t valid unless you tell them every single private detail of what happened, and they agree with you,” she said. “It’s like they have some ‘invalid until proven valid’ rule they operate off of.” She shook her head. “I swear, I can’t tell you how many times people lectured me about the importance of marriage, as if Matt and I tossed a coin for the decision.”

  “Exactly,” Jacob said, relief in his tone. “That’s how I feel with my mother and father.”

  Aliyah was quiet momentarily. “But it’s different with parents,” she said. “They usually do really care about what happened.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jacob said. “Sometimes they’re more offended than concerned. They just don’t want anyone to ruin their family name.”

  Aliyah thought of how proud her parents were to have been married for so long. “That’s true,” she said. “Having a long lasting marriage is definitely a bragging point in the Thomas home.” She paused thoughtfully. “That’s probably why my mother is so up in arms about Cassie and her husband.”

  There was extended silence.

  “Have you heard any more from them?” Jacob asked.

  “No,” Aliyah said with a sigh. “But I don’t expect to. Cassie and I aren’t really close, and I doubt my mother will ever speak to me again.” She grunted. “Like she didn’t for ten years.”

  “I meant from Benjamin and Valerie?”

  Aliyah frowned. “No,” she said. “But they don’t talk a lot about other people’s lives unless there’s a reason.”

  “Well, I gave Joseph my phone number in case he had any questions about Islam or anything.”

  “That’s good mashaAllah,” Aliyah said, but she didn’t feel optimistic. Her mother had a way of making sure she got her way, by any means necessary. And with Joseph being a project manager in one of her organizations, there was no end to the manipulation she’d likely subject her son-in-law to.

  “I hope he calls,” Jacob said sincerely. “If not me, then Benjamin at least.”

  Aliyah bit her lower lip. “Just make du’aa,” she said finally. “Between Cassie and my mother, he’d have to be pretty committed to still be interested in becoming Muslim.”

  “Is there any other way to be when it comes to your soul?” Jacob asked rhetorically. “I mean, God doesn’t disappear just because people don’t want you to submit to Him.”

  “They probably think they already are submitting to Him,” Aliyah offered. “That’s how Shaytaan works,” she said. “He makes you believe you’re on the right path when you’re not.”

  “That’s true,” Jacob conceded. “Satan is certainly good at his job.”

  “Yes he is,” Aliyah agreed reflectively.

  “It’s just difficult to comprehend how someone wouldn’t become Muslim after they heard about Islam,” Jacob said. “It’s one thing if you’ve rationalized yourself out of ever learning about it in the first place, like many people do. But after you know?” He let out a low whistle. “That’s not something I want to face Allah with on the Day of Judgment.”

  “They’re the same thing though,” Aliyah said. “All ignorance isn’t excusable in front of Allah. Rationalizing yourself out of learning about Islam is pretty much the same as knowing it’s true and rejecting it.”

  “You think so?” Jacob asked, his voice skeptical.

  “Yes, absolutely,” Aliyah said. “That’s like skipping class then asking the teacher to excuse you for not knowing about an upcoming exam. But excusable ignorance is not knowing there’s a class to attend in the first place.”

  “Hmm…” Jacob said, as if considering the perspective for the first time.

  “There are even hadiths about people answering the last question in the grave by saying that they just said about Prophet Muhammad, sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam, what they heard everybody else saying.”

  “That’s true,” Jacob said, as if recalling a hadith just then. “SubhaanAllah.”

  “So ignorance isn’t always an excuse,” she said.

  Jacob was quiet for some time, and Aliyah sensed that he was reflecting on what she’d said. “That makes me feel a bit better about the divorce,” Jacob said finally.

  Aliyah drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “About the divorce?”

  “Sometimes I feel bad,” Jacob said, “because I know Deanna never really knew me, you know?”

  Aliyah didn’t know, but she was listening.

  “It’s like I was her caretaker more than her husband.” His tone suggested that he was lost in self-reflection, speaking more for his own benefit than Aliyah’s. “I tried to let her get to know me,” he said. “But she always shut me down. She never wanted to talk about anything that made her upset.” He huffed. “Unless it was about someone making her upset. I felt like there was this wall constantly between us, and every time I tried to climb over it, she punished me.”

  “SubhaanAllah…”

  “I know all of it isn’t her fault.”

  The tinge of sadness in Jacob’s tone made Aliyah curious about all he’d gone through. But she didn’t pry. She understood that some of the more intimate pain of marriage remained sacred even after the bond of marriage was broken. What’s between husband and wife stays between husband and wife, her parents would often say. And after her divorce with Matt, Aliyah mentally added, Even if they’re no longer husband and wife.

  “But she’s not the first person to go through severe trials,” Jacob said, the self-reflective tone still in his voice. “And she won’t be the last. And no matter what we go through, we can’t punish other people for it,” he said. “And we can’t always say we didn’t know, thinking that gives us a pass. In a marriage, it’s your responsibility to get to know the person you’re married to, especially if they’re doing all they can to introduce themselves to you.”

  Aliyah frowned thoughtfully. “I think some people are just incompatible.”

  Jacob let out a sigh. “Yes, that’s true,” he said tentatively. “But more people are just impossible. There’s a difference.”

  ***

  “Marriage counseling?” Jacob repeated incredulously. It was Tuesday morning as he shut the door to his college office to increase privacy, speaking into the Bluetooth earpiece of his phone.

  “Her lawyer says she’ll agree to everything if you agree to go to couple’s counseling.”

  “Before she signs for the divorce?”

  “They didn’t specify,” Jacob’s attorney said. “So I suggest agreeing to it, but only after the divorce, perhaps for co-parenting purposes.”

  Jacob gritted his teeth. This was a bad sign. Deanna was stalling, and he knew what this meant. She was testing the waters to see if they still had a chance. But the Islamic divorce had already gone through, and to Jacob, this legal paperwork was just the final aggravating red tape to free him completely.

  He drew in a deep
breath and exhaled to calm himself. Then he walked over to his desk and picked up the phone and tapped the icon for the du’aa app. He opened up the Istikhaarah prayer tab and read from it, quickly moving his lips to recite the supplication. He hated rushing through this prayer, especially without praying two units of voluntary prayer first, but he was on a tight schedule today, and this was the only time he had a moment free to speak to his lawyer.

  “Fine,” he said as if it took the last bit of patience from him. “But specify that it’s after the divorce, for co-parenting purposes.” He sighed. “Then please let’s set up a time for us to sign and counter sign the final divorce papers.”

  “You got it.”

  ***

  “I don’t want to sign it,” Deanna said, folding her arms defiantly as she stood looking out the window of the office of Attorney Schmidt’s office Tuesday afternoon, her back to him. She heard her attorney sigh in impatience, but she ignored him. “I don’t want a divorce. How can we stop him from divorcing me?”

  She turned to face Bryan then, her eyes filling with tears, but she refused to give into weakness. “Make him stay married to me.”

  “I can’t do that,” Bryan said. “All I can offer is the best divorce deal possible. But I have to be honest with you and say, your case doesn’t look good on paper. He put tens of thousands of dollars into your business. He personally endorsed and promoted your books. He participated in your marriage workshops and television interviews. Then there are the cases of assault—”

  “That was dropped,” Deanna said irritably.

  “No,” the attorney correct. “That was with your mother only. You have two restraining orders on public record, and one from—”

  “But not from Jacob,” Deanna said.

  “—Jacob’s place of work,” the attorney finished, his voice firm. “No, it’s not as strong as from Jacob himself, but it doesn’t look good in court. Jacob changed the keys to his office, and during that time, you weren’t living at the house. And if he also changed the locks during the time you were gone, then that’s enough evidence to at least argue that you were a physical threat to him and the children.”