Gunaah

I stop leaning against the side of the car when I see Inayat come out of the airport. I smile but she doesn't. I don't think she sees me. If anything my wife looks more lost than before.

She almost walks past me. "Inayat?" I call out. She flinches before turning around. That's when she finally notices me. "H-Harold. Hey."

I smile the tiniest fucking smile I can muster. "Hello darling." I take her suitcase from her, mindful to not touch her. "How was your trip?" She nods. "It was okay." Then why does she look so lost?

I open her door for her and round the car to take my seat. The drive was quiet until halfway through she opened her mouth. "If I weren't the way I am, would you have loved me?"

I keep my hold on the wheel tight to make sure I don't lose it. "Where is this coming from?"

"Just answer the question Harold."

"I don't know. I don't think I have it in me to fall in love, darling. It has nothing to do with who you are and everything to do with who I am. I care about you more than anything I've ever cared about and I would do anything for you. But-"

"But you will not do all that out of love for me but out of obligation as my husband."

"That's not what I m-"

"It's okay. I'm not upset. I'm not anything. I just wanted to know for sure where we stand. Now I do."

"Inayat-"

"You should focus on the road Harold." That's the coldest way anyone has ever said my name. Even my father said it with less ice.

~~~~~~

The scotch burns the back of my throat. The decanter almost empty. I didn't find it full anyway. I'm sure my father drank some of it, or maybe it was my mother. I don't think she drinks that much but I didn't know she took weed either.

"Rough day?" I don't turn. Cassandra maybe a house helper's daughter, but she and I grew up together. We weren't particularly close but we weren't that farther apart either. We were friends. To some extent at least.

"Rough life." I say before emptying my glass and pouring whatever is left of the scotch in. She comes to sit beside me as we both look out our window to the surrounding trees. It's quiet, so fucking quiet.

"What are you thinking about?" I don't know Cassandra. Probably how to ease my wife's problems. Why is it so hard to love someone?

"Do you remember how I was as a kid?" I ask her instead and don't wait for an answer. "I used to get attached to everything. I used to love everything. When my father told me to do something I would put my life on the line to do it.

I wanted to be loved by him so terribly. Even when I went to college and was an absolute fuck boy with daddy issues, I gave my all to anyone I met. I loved so easily but then, then it all went down the drain."

"You never shared what happened. You just came back from that island like this. What happened there?" A lot. So much happened there that I don't know where to start.

"I made friends. Friends I felt I had known for generations and ......"

"And?"

"And I met a girl. I fell in love. And like a stupid fucking idiot, I got my heart broken. Joëlle reminded me of a young me. She wanted love and attention and I thought I can give it to her. I thought I can love her enough for her to not look for it some place else but I was wrong.

I was fucking stupid. She didn't need my love or care or attention. She didn't give a single fuck about it. All she cared about was her father's approval and it didn't matter what she had to do to get it."

Breaking my heart was the most harmless thing she did. When I look back I still can't believe I was deceived so easily. The Joëlle I loved and the Joëlle I killed were two different women.

One was a broken girl who loved head massages and baking. She was the girl who told me I'm strong and I can face the world even if my father doesn't face me.

The other was a girl who was willing to kill a man because he fell in love. She was the girl who was going to let a dozen middle aged men rape a girl because she wanted to live with her lover. She was the girl who betrayed not only her boyfriend but her best friend for her absent father's approval.

I know why she needed him in her life, I wanted my father's approval too but I wouldn't kill or let people get raped for it. If my father is that kind of a man, he needs to go before I off him myself.

"Is that why you're not willing to fall in love? Because you're scared?" Maybe. Maybe I am scared. Maybe I don't want that heart wrenching pain in my chest again. Maybe I don't want my limbs to ache when I wake up.

I'm not sure if every heartbreak is the same but mine was so strong it made me lifeless. I haven't forgotten lying in the middle of the road with a pint in my hand and tears in my eyes.

A random man pulled me off or I would've been sludge under someone's car. And I wouldn't have hated it. I knew I was fucked up when I had nothing else to do, when dying didn't feel scary.

I tried to find purpose but I found none. I murdered people. The people that were part of that cult that destroyed all our lives. I watched their blood drain from their bodies and splashed it on Joëlle's grave.

That was my petty revenge. I buried her myself but I didn't want her to find peace. She left me with life long misery and I'm hoping I can give her an eternity of it back. I want her to know I didn't just kill her. I killed other people who helped her ruin two lives.

Two lives of people who did nothing but love each other. They didn't harm anyone. They did nothing and yet they paid the price for hundreds of years.

I want Joëlle to know I fucking loathe her so much I can't think of love anymore without her shadow tainting it like a bad omen.

"I'm not scared Cassandra, I'm worried I can't love someone the same and I don't want to ruin a life by breaking their heart. Love doesn't scare me, it haunts me. It physically hurts me and the wound it gave me the first time around is still pulsing. I don't know how to heal it."

The woman beside me nods. "I always thought it was because of your wife's condition. Everyone knows your marriage isn't normal and everyone believed it's because of...."

"It's not. Inayat and I are two sides of the same coin. We are stuck together but we don't even see each other. I know there is something serious that happened but she doesn't share and I don't blame her because I didn't tell her any of my troubles either.

We just exist with our problems. Problems that have no solution." A light shuffle from behind makes me turn.

My wife isn't crying, isn't saying anything but her face says enough. She heard things. Things I didn't tell her but another woman.

I stand up but Inayat turns to leave. My steps aren't as smooth with the alcohol in my veins but I follow behind nonetheless. "Inayat!"

"You don't need to say anything." She doesn't even face me. Just throws her words at me while running away. "At least stop and look at me darling, please." She doesn't.

"Inayat you know I can't physically stop you so just listen to my plea and talk to me. Me are married for god's sake!" That makes her face me.

I stop a single step away from her. We both stand in front of the stairs and I try to coax her into our room but she doesn't move. "Say it." She says instead. "Say what?"

"Tell me what you want to talk about."

"I-" the words stay stuck in my throat. What do I tell her? What can I say to her so she doesn't look as heartbroken? I don't even know what she is hurt about.

"You know Harold, all this time I believed I wasn't enough. That while you treated me with kindness it was because you're just a nice person and you don't want me to be all alone in the world. I believed you didn't love me because I'm not enough.

Because I'm damaged and broken and everything that's wrong. I thought if I fix myself, one day you would love me. But I was wrong. No matter how much I fix myself, I can't compete with someone you already loved!"

I stand much more like a statue than a human while my poor innocent wife cries. She thinks I don't love her because I love someone else. I don't.

"I don't love someone else Inayat. It was-"

"In the past?" She asks as she wipes her tears. "No matter what you say Harold, she still affects you enough that you cannot love someone else. You might not love her anymore but you gave up on it because of her. I can't compete with that."

My fists curl. This is the first time I feel this need but I want nothing more than to touch her. To hold her hand, to wipe her tears and tell her that she doesn't need to compete with her. That Joëlle was not the half of what Inayat is.

They were both broken but one collected her pieces to help others and one decided to spread more misery. Inayat doesn't need to fucking compete, Joëlle doesn't hold a candle to her.

"B-baby, please li-"

"No. Just tell me one thing. If she comes back, would you go to her?"

"Inayat, she is dead. She is never coming back and even if she was, whatever stupid emotion I had for her is nothing compared to the respect and affection I have for you. Whether you let me touch you or not wouldn't change anything.

You're not broken baby, you're hurt. And that's okay. Someone hurt you and you need time to heal. That is fine."

"She is dead?" I nod in response. Her shoulders don't ease, instead they bunch up even more. She leans against the railing right next to the steps and I move closer, worried she might fall.

"That is so much worse. I am comparing myself to a dead woman and still somehow coming up short." She sobs. No. No darling.

"You are not coming up short Inayat. Joëlle was not a good person. She was evil. You can't compare yourself to her, you are so much better-"

"AND YET YOU LOVED HER!" I take a step back. Stunned into silence. It isn't often that Inayat raises her voice. I hear footsteps, my family and a couple people who work in the house gathering around to see why the lord and the lady of the house are fighting on the fucking stairs.

"Her, Harold, not me! She was evil and wicked and whatever else was wrong with her and I'm none of those things. I'm better and yet she has what I never did. You know what?!

You! She had you, she had your love and your heart and I don't! What did I get from being nice? I got a miserable life. I grew up in pain and agony and now my husband doesn't love me either. What was the point of being nice?! What was the fucking point?!!"

I keep stepping away. My body numb at her outburst. I want to console her but I'm not sure I have the answers. I-

Another step back costs me more than just distance between her and I. My foot trips on the last step and Inayat sees it. She steps forward as a reflex to my fall but her hand never reaches out to catch mine. It would've been too late anyway.

I slip and hear screams from my wife, mother and someone else. I roll down two steps before my head hits the pure marble. Things turn blurry, black spots cover my vision and blood catches my eye. I spot it over the stairs, it's a lot.

The pain doesn't register. Not the one in my head at least. I see my wife's pale face before my eyes fall shut at last. It's a bit peaceful now. It's better.

~~~~~~