"Beti!"
"Yes, Aunty?"
"When do you see the doctor again? You're looking so pale".
"Tomorrow".
"I'll come with you".
"Okay".
It had been two months since she had seen the doctor to discuss options for how she'd like to face death. That conversation seemed many moons ago. So much had happened since then that time had just flown.
Zehra was growing faster than Rabia had ever counted on. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. She was talking up a storm and was as adorable as they come. The fact that she and Hamza had a special bond endeared him to Rabia too. A little. She couldn't forgive him for stripping joy from her already limited life.
But besides her kids, not much tethered her to this earth. Her parents were going to get over it, she knew. Eventually they'd be busy with raising her kids and reveling in her other sisters' lives. Women died in childbirth routinely before. It's not like anyone's life stopped. So she'd die due to another female illness. No one was going to stop living after her. It was all temporary.
She knew her end was here. Surprisingly, she wanted to see Kausar more than anyone else. Out of all the sisters, this one had caused her the most heartache with her distance and guilt. She didn't know how she had offended Kausar but could tell that she had unknowingly committed a crime.
On a whim she called her.
"Appa!"
"Yes, Appa", Rabia smiled, "How are you? Don't you feel like calling sometimes? I know you won't come to see us".
"I get so lazy", Kausar said, shifting uncomfortably in bed. This pregnancy was proving to be more exhausting than the last one. "I was thinking about calling you this weekend".
"Thank God, Kausar Rasheed remembers us little people", Rabia exclaimed, "Sorry, Kausar Ahmed".
"It's the same thing to me", Kausar smiled this time, "Rasheed or Ahmed….. neither did anything for me".
"Ugh!" Rabia groaned, "They're all the same, aren't they?"
"Yup! It's the same circus with different monkeys".
Rabia snorted. Kausar had never been sarcastic or snarky but maybe Arshad had rubbed off on her.
"I'd love to see you", Rabia said.
"I was hoping to visit towards the end of this year", Kausar said, tentatively so as not to raise hopes of her sister, "I heard about your health issues".
Rabia was a little taken aback. It had been over a month that she had told Arshad about it all. Kausar hadn't contacted her and she had assumed that Arshad hadn't told her. Overall it seemed like a wise decision. Not everyone had to worry about her. But now it seemed like she knew.
"I'm fine now", She decided to let it go in the interest of rekindling her relationship with Kausar, "Just can't wait to see you and Musa".
They chatted about a few other things before hanging up.
Hamza entered.
"Ami says you have another appointment tomorrow?"
"Yes! Aunty is coming with me".
"She wants me to come too".
"It's up to you".
"I had some meetings at the office", He scratched his head, "There are some factory tours that I have set up….."
She had run out of patience with him a long time ago.
"Aunty is enough", She said before leaving the room, "If there's an update, anyone can inform you. You don't have to be there physically".
She left.
He sat on the bed. Rabia's anger at him didn't make sense to him. For a woman who was battling cancer, she sure knew how to focus on mundane stuff. What did she care if he had affairs or girlfriends? Didn't she have bigger fish to fry? Men usually took a mistress or another wife if one was terribly sick. So many men did that! It wasn't like this was new. Her own father had been missing most of her life……….
Ten minutes later he was snoring.
"Rabia!" Her oncologist sat across from her and Nasima, "Your blood numbers are dangerously low. You've had some blood transfusions. I can give you another bag today. But we have to make plans for how long this will go on".
Nasima looked from Rabia to Dr. Ansar, a puzzled expression on her face.
"I can take the blood today", Rabia said.
"Yes you can", Dr. Ansar said, "I'm okay with it. We can certainly buy some more time with some palliative measures like this one".
"Palliative?" Nasima interjected, "Rabia is cured, right? You told us that Rabia is cured".
The doctor was bewildered. She had some idea that Rabia's husband wasn't as involved as one would expect but thought that Nasima was.
"The scans didn't bring the good news that we had hoped for", She told Nasima gently, "Rabia and I talked about them during our last appointment".
Rabia's rigid body didn't leave many questions for Nasima.
A girl was bent over a table, solving math problems that were four classes too advanced for her. A woman, barely in her thirties, watched her with pride. Mathematics was the only legacy she cared to leave behind. And she had found the daughter who'd carry it forward.
The scene changed. Arshad declined Rabia. She wasn't young enough. Nasima was happy in a way. No one from her sons deserved Rabia. But when she saw Rabia at Kausar's wedding she felt a resentment towards all the men who had rejected this jewel.
Hamza's threatening voice filled the air around her. He was hell bent on getting Rabia. Then he was just as adamant about leaving her.
"Aunty! Aunty!" Rabia's voice pierced through her mind.
"I'm sorry, Aunty!" Rabia sniffed as she saw the tears in Nasima's eyes, "I didn't mean to hide it. I just wanted it all to be normal. I've never had it normal. I wanted some normalcy in my tragic life for a few weeks".
Tears had never been an answer but they did help excrete anger and hostility from the body.
"We were at the doctor's", Nasima found an opening while Hamza and Faraz watched television. Rabia and the kids were in bed.
They barely looked at her.
"There's some bad news", She continued, "Rabia's cancer didn't respond to the chemotherapy. The doctor says she doesn't have much time".
She finally had their attention.
"Rabia has known for some time. She didn't want to bother us. She also wanted to live her life happily with her kids for as long as she could. But she got a blood transfusion today and it looks like she has some belly pain that will need stronger pain medicines. She'll treat herself at home for as long as she can but might eventually need to get admitted for pain control and comfort".
She left the room.
"You didn't tell me", She was surprised he could complain about it to her.
"I didn't want to", She was stoic. The only thing that she wanted was dignity. And Hamza had always been in the way of that.
"Why? I'm your husband. Who else do you discuss these things with?"
"I'm a private person, Hamza!" She said, wondering how Hamza could lay any claim to their relationship. "I don't open up easily. I opened up to you and got bitten. It's hard for me to trust you".
"This isn't about trust", He whined, "This is about you and me sharing our problems with each other".
She laughed. How naive of Hamza to think that she didn't need trust!
"Everything's about trust, sweetie!" She said gently, "I can't share with someone I don't trust".
"Rabia!" His hands touched her shoulders and turned her towards him, "I've always loved you. I've never loved anyone more than I love you".
This man had professed his love to many women, she knew. His hand was inching towards her waist, she registered it. Telling him what she thought of him was important. She caught his hand with one swift motion.
"If you'd like me to believe you then promise me something", She knew her grip was tight and probably hurting him but she didn't care.
"Anything, Rabia, anything", The contrite husband act was his specialty.
"Promise me that you won't touch me ever again", Her eyes burned with suppressed fury, "Promise me that! And also promise me that you won't come to my funeral. You will not be a part of any of it. Promise me that! I can't forgive you, Hamza! I have tried. God knows I've tried. But you didn't make it easy. Promise me that you'll honor my last wishes".
He was stunned. Women had never hated him like this. When he broke up with them there was usually a very solid reason that he gave them. He guilted them into accepting that they weren't a good match for him. Over the years, his narcissism and associated gaslighting had worked for him in making sure that he had clean breaks and those women remained friends wit him usually. This was weird. This was new. The most inexperienced woman had been Rabia and she had caught on to the farce.
"And one more thing!" She said as she turned and got ready to sleep, "I don't want you raising my children after me. It's either going to be Aunty or Kausar. No one else! Please hand my kids to Aunty or Kausar when I'm no more".
Suddenly a cold took over his body. She was dying and he had committed so many sins against her that the limited time that she had been given by the powers above wasn't enough for an appropriate apology to her. He tried to say something but his mouth felt like cotton and his words were caught in his throat. He looked around wildly. There was a glass of water at her bedside. He reached for it to moisten his throat but before he could, Rabia's arm stretched out, took the glass and she drained it in one gulp without realizing that he had been reaching for it.
The irony of it wasn't lost on him. She had finally found her peace. He had finally lost it.
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