by Sara Naveed
‘Let me change. I’ll be back in a minute.’
I held his hand tightly.
‘Aariz, please. Not tonight.’
‘I promise we’ll make love tonight,’ he said, his eyes sparkling.
I wanted to trust him. I wanted to believe his words.
‘Meanwhile, you finish your milk. Be right back.’ He quickly kissed me on my forehead and walked towards the bathroom.
I heaved a sigh of relief, tucking away my hair behind my ears. Perhaps I was overreacting. The way he convinced me that he loved only me and there was no other woman in his life was enough to overpower the doubts and uncertainly that had plagued my mind. For the first time since we got married, I felt content. I felt closer to what I wanted to conquer. I loved him and I wanted to feel this emotion physically. As I waited for Aariz to come back from the bathroom, I took the glass of milk kept on my bedside table and quickly gulped it down. I then fixed my hair and face and sat down on the edge of the bed.
I passed him a quick, nervous smile as he stepped into the room. He smiled back—–this time there was no hint of uneasiness on his face. Instead of coming directly to the bed, he went to the switchboard and flipped a switch, engulfing the room in darkness. I felt his hands on my skin but couldn’t see his face. I could only hear the collective sound of our breathing and the nervous thumping of our hearts. I did not quite understand how he managed to undress me in the dark. But then I realized I wasn’t fully naked. I had my undergarments on. I felt his bare, warm skin as he lowered himself on top of me. I wanted to see how aroused he was; I wanted to see his expression while he made love to me. Having sex for the first time in complete darkness was not what I wanted. But I didn’t want to complain again, so I ignored that thought and focused on what was going on between us. My body ached with desire as he started leaving a trail of kisses down my neck. I closed my eyes and grasped the bed sheet in my fists. I moaned loudly before my mind went completely blank, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Momentary Bliss
The next morning, I woke up with a heavy head. I tried to remember what exactly had happened last night but my memory failed me. I remembered Aariz’s words: ‘We will make love tonight.’ But I didn’t feel any different. I had heard a million stories from girlfriends about losing one’s virginity—about the soreness between the legs; the breaking of the hymen; the blood-stained sheets. But I didn’t feel any of that; only my head throbbed with pain. As I turned around to get a glass of water, I suddenly realized that I was fully clothed. Didn’t Aariz take off my clothes last night? Of course he did. I remembered that part very well. But what had happened after that? I tried to gather the pieces of last night’s memory but failed. The last thing I remembered was him lying on top of me and kissing my neck. Other than that, my mind was completely blank. Why couldn’t I remember anything? It was supposed to be a very special night for me. The most memorable one. Before I could get up or do anything else, I saw Aariz making his way to the room, bearing a breakfast tray.
‘Hey, good morning. Thank God, you’re up.’ He beamed at me as he put the tray on the side table.
I smiled at him nervously.
‘I contemplated waking you up but couldn’t. You were sleeping like a baby. I just couldn’t disturb you.’ He sat down next to me, holding my hand.
‘I’ve brought breakfast for you.’
‘That’s . . . very thoughtful of you.’
‘Let’s eat. I’m very hungry,’ he said and started buttering a slice of toast.
With every passing minute, I grew more impatient. I wanted him to fill me in on the details.
‘Aariz . . . did you . . . put on my clothes last night?’ I asked him.
He looked at me and nodded.
‘Okay,’ I murmured, cursing my brain for forgetting everything.
‘Why, what happened? You didn’t like it?’
‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ I told him. ‘I . . . just can’t remember when it happened.’
‘How would you remember, Zynah? You were sound asleep by the time we finished.’ He smiled.
‘Right,’ I nodded.
‘Last night was special in so many ways,’ he said and winked. ‘I hope you have no doubts about my feelings any more. You know how much I love you.’
I looked up at him, into his eyes, trying to read his face.
‘What happened last night?’ I asked him, trying to gauge his reaction.
‘What you had been waiting for,’ he said and flashed me a smile.
‘Did we . . . have sex?’ I asked.
He nodded.
‘Are you sure? Because I don’t recall anything of that sort . . .’
‘Zynah . . . we did have it. I enjoyed every bit of it.’
I looked at his face and thought, what a skilled liar he was. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation on his face or in his eyes. I couldn’t remember the intricate details of the previous night, but I knew for sure that we did not have sex. What made him lie about it? He could have told me the truth.
‘What happened?’ he asked, breaking my reverie.
‘Uh, nothing,’ I said, looking down at my plate again.
‘Are you feeling okay?’ he asked, concerned.
I nodded as I looked back at him.
Putting my plate on the bed, he leaned closer to me, swept my hair to one side and put his arms around my neck.
‘I love you, Zynah.’
‘I love you too,’ I whispered, still in a trance.
What are you hiding from me, Aariz? Is there any problem you’re afraid to share with me? Please, let me know if there is . . . Please. I want to know, I pleaded in my head.
Doubting the Doubts
After our so-called sexual encounter, I did see a change in Aariz’s attitude towards me. He had become more attentive, caring and affectionate but we still did not have sex. He did express his love in the form of a few kisses here and there but did not initiate anything beyond that. This made me unhappy but I did not bring it up again, as I did not want to sound like a nagging wife. However, deep down I knew that things were not as transparent as they appeared. I had to know the truth. I had to unravel the mystery.
A few days later, I received a call from Soniya.
‘Hey!’ Soniya said.
‘Hi, Sonz. How are you doing?’ I asked her, sitting on my bed.
‘Zee, are you free this evening?’
‘Um, yeah, why?’
‘Let’s meet up.’
There was an urgency in her voice.
‘Yeah, but can we meet tomorrow?’ I asked.
‘It’s urgent, Zee.’
‘But . . .’
‘I’ll wait for you at Hard Rock Café. Be there in an hour,’ she said, and hung up.
Perplexed, I looked at my phone screen, wondering what could be the matter. Then put the thought away for the time being and got up to get ready. An hour later, I pushed open the heavy wooden door of the café and walked in. Sonya was seated at our usual booth, busy on her laptop.
‘What’s up, Sonz?’ I asked, taking a seat in front of her.
‘Zynah . . .’ She looked up and smiled at me weakly. ‘I might be wrong, but I need to show you something.’
I crossed my brows in confusion as she turned the laptop in my direction.
‘Do you think this person is Aariz?’ She pointed towards a picture of a group of men at a party, dancing and cheering in an inebriated state.
I narrowed my eyes and looked closely.
‘Umm, yes. That’s Aariz,’ I finally said. ‘Of course, that’s him.’
‘Oh-kay,’ Soniya said slowly.
‘But what happened?’ I asked, my heartbeat quickening.
‘And what about this one?’ She showed me another picture where Aariz was sitting on a beach with a white guy, nuzzling his neck.
‘Yes, that’s Aariz,’ I confirmed.
‘So I was right . . .’
‘What do you mean? What are you trying to say?’ I aske
d, my voice becoming shaky.
‘All I’m trying to say is . . .’ Soniya said. ‘Aariz has another account on Facebook which he operates under a different identity.’
‘What? No way! He has only one Facebook account that he rarely uses!’ I told her.
‘I’ll tell you why I said that. Last night, as I was going through my newsfeed, I came across a few photos of one of my Canadian ex-colleagues. Aariz’s uncanny resemblance with one of the persons in the pictures made me observe them carefully. After seeing all of them, I realized that Aariz was tagged with a different name, hence a different account. Here, let me show you that account.’ Soniya pulled the laptop towards her and opened the aforementioned Facebook profile. I felt the blood rush to my face.
‘See this. Aariz is Aaron Kay on this other account.’
I clenched my fists under the table as I looked at the picture on the screen. She was right. It was Aariz’s profile. He had put a close-up of his face as the display picture. The cover photo was him with a few other men. I looked at Sonya mockingly.
‘What happened?’ she asked me, confused.
‘This could also be a fake profile, Soniya! What are you exactly implying?’ I said, raising my voice. Why was she trying to humiliate me?
‘It’s not a fake profile, Zynah! Look at the comments. I have checked out all his pictures and those of people tagged here. All of them are real and are based in Canada. Wasn’t Aariz also studying in Canada before he came to London?’
Irritated, I snatched the laptop out of her hands and started clicking on the pictures.
‘Zee.’ She placed her hand on my shoulder. ‘Aariz is hiding something from you. His secret Facebook account proves that. It’s time you talked to him about it. For your own sake.’
‘But . . . he might be using this ID for his friends. A lot of people have two Facebook accounts—one for their family and one for friends,’ I tried to reason with her.
‘It’s not his second account that’s bothering me. It’s the comments on these pictures. Such comments are shared with lovers, not friends. Is he even straight?’
I paused to look at her, my fingers trembling.
‘Yes, Zynah. I doubt that he is. I haven’t told you this but I did notice something odd about him at your wedding. Zynah,’ she sighed, ‘please listen to me carefully. You need to find out before it’s too late.’
I looked back at the laptop screen, at his pictures with his male friends. In one of them, a guy was kissing Aariz on his cheek making him blush.
Maybe my friend was right. Maybe the truth had been right in front of my eyes all these days.
Aariz was already at home when I got back. He was in the washroom, taking a bath. I entered the room and slumped heavily on to the bed, the day’s events whirring in my head. Suddenly, I felt something vibrate. I sat up and pulled it from under the blanket. It was Aariz’s cell phone. He had put it on silent mode and hidden it under the covers. A JM was calling him. I had never heard this name before. Who was he? A colleague, a friend, or someone else? Could he be James by any chance? Or could it be the guy from Aariz’s picture on the beach? I had to find out. Luckily, I had seen him enter his passcode once and remembered it. I unlocked his phone and browsed through it. I opened the call log and dialled JM’s number. With my eyes on the washroom door, I tucked the phone shakily under my ear. I knew Aariz could come out any time and catch me in the act.
Suddenly someone answered. ‘Aaron, where were you? Why didn’t you answer my call?’ a man said on the other end of the line.
I was convulsed with emotion when I heard another man address Aariz as Aaron. It proved that Aariz had two accounts on Facebook, and he had kept his other identity—Aaron—hidden from me. Despite it being cold in the room, sweat trickled down my face. I did not know what to think of this person. Who was he and what relationship did my husband have with him?
‘Babe, are you there? Hello?’ he asked.
I ended the call and put the phone down on the table. Right then, Aariz stepped out of the washroom. I quickly wiped off the sweat from my face and smiled.
‘Hey, what’s up? Where were you all day?’ he asked, towelling his hair dry. When I did not say anything, he stepped closer and picked up his phone from the table.
I inspected him closely as he effortlessly swiped the screen with his fingers. He would soon find out that someone had called JM from his phone and that someone could only be me. Before he could throw questions at me, I decided it was time I bombarded him with mine.
‘By the way, some JM was calling you a moment ago. I answered but he ended the call abruptly,’ I said, gauging his reaction. ‘I called him back but he didn’t say anything.’
‘Oh, JM . . .’ He looked away, letting out a soft laugh. ‘That’s the same James from our office actually. I have saved his number as JM. You know, a nickname for James.’ He shrugged coolly without looking me in the eye.
‘But I have never met him before,’ I said.
‘Well, he works in the IT security department and our IT guys rarely step out of their cabins. They have a lot of work,’ he explained.
‘Right,’ I said, my voice low.
I stopped myself from cross-questioning him. I could have asked him why he had a nickname for only one employee. What was so special about him? Why would an employee call him ‘babe’? Why did he have two accounts on Facebook? And why had he kept the second account a secret? But I stayed quiet. I knew Aariz would brush off my concerns and make some excuse or the other if I confronted him. But what if . . . Aariz was gay?
I struggled hard to hold myself together, but I could not stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. After all, till when could I ignore all the signs? I had to prove myself wrong. I had to know the truth. Once and for all.
The Harsh Reality
The next morning, after he had left for work, I made up my mind to spy on Aariz. I had tried hard not to dwell any further on it, but I could not stop my urge to find out what was going on. As his wife, I felt that I had the right to know about my husband’s strange behaviour. For the first time since I had moved here, I looked into his closet and rummaged through the other cabinets and drawers in our room that he used. The only suspicious item appeared to be a tube of lubricant that was tucked inside one of his drawers. I inspected it and was shocked to learn that it was a lube for anal sex. Why did he have anal lube in the drawer? Did he use it the night when we first attempted to make love? As far as I knew, we did not have any sort of sexual intercourse. There had been no stains on my body or the bed sheet when I had woken up the next morning. Aariz had tried to convince me that we had made love but I know I was just playing along until now. I would have continued to believe that Aariz could never have sex, or perhaps he suffered from erectile dysfunction. But I became suspicious when I found out about his secret Facebook account.
I did not say anything to Aariz when he returned home that evening. He went about his regular routine. I wanted to go through his cell phone or laptop. Those devices could give me more insight into his secret life but he was seldom without them. I would have to wait to access his laptop when he wasn’t around.
My chance came one evening when he made plans with some friends from school.
As soon as he got ready and left, I reached for his laptop and thankfully found that I did not need a password. I opened the iMessage folder and found several conversations as I scrolled down the list. The chat that piqued my interest was with JM—the same JM who had called him ‘babe’ over the phone.
I scrolled through the entire conversation:
Aariz: What’s up? Missing me? ;)
JM: There isn’t a single moment when I don’t miss you, babe. You know that.
Aariz: I miss you too. Xoxo
JM: I have started missing your warmth in my bed. When are you coming over to stay for a night again? I can’t wait to cuddle you.
Aariz: I’ll be with you soon, love. I might drop by this evening.
JM: Let me know b
efore coming. I want to prepare dinner for my love.
Aariz: Sure. Xoxo
Tears stung my eyes. One of the pictures in their chat was the same as the one I’d seen on his Facebook profile—a photo of Aariz on the beach. Someone else had taken the photo and clearly that someone was James because he had sent it to Aariz. My eyes began to swim and my body went limp but I continued to look through his files and folders. I browsed through the pictures saved on his laptop and then scanned the ‘history’ of the web browser. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen and read. I put my elbows on the laptop, folded my hands together and inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself.
I had been so blinded by my own love that I had not noticed his lack of passion for me. So enamoured was I that I had not even considered whether he was heterosexual or not. I did not know what made me believe that he was interested in me. Why had I thought that he wanted to marry me as much as I did? I should have known that he wasn’t into me when he had rejected the idea of marriage in the beginning. I had been a fool to pressure him into a relationship; forced relationships don’t work and this one wouldn’t either. I shut my eyes and let out a loud sob—a final and complete admission that my husband was gay.
The Confession
I was still in front of Aariz’s computer, with my head bowed down, when the door of my room creaked open. I looked up to find Aariz standing in front of me.
‘Zynah . . .’ he began but his voice trailed off as his eyes fell on his laptop and then back at me. ‘What are you doing? he asked in a low voice.
I turned the laptop screen to face him. A look of horror crossed Aariz’s face when he saw the photograph of him and James canoodling on the beach staring back at him.