THE WEIGHT OF TALAAQ

Talaaq is the Islamic term for divorce, where a husband pronounces the dissolution of his marriage to his wife. It involves the husband declaring "I divorce you" (or similar words) three times, with each declaration separating the couple further. The three utterances are typically spoken on separate occasions, and once all three have been spoken, the marriage is considered irrevocably ended. The scene began In the opulent halls of a grand Muslim wedding, promises are exchanged, vows spoken, and hearts entwined in the sacred bond of marriage. But behind the façade of happiness lies a story of betrayal and heartache, where love is tested, faith shattered, and redemption sought amidst the chaos of shattered dreams. As the newlywed couple embarks on their honeymoon, passion ignites between them, only to be extinguished by a shocking revelation. In the heat of passion, the husband discovers that his beloved wife is not the virgin she claimed to be, unleashing a storm of anger and disbelief that echoes with the first pronouncement of talaaq. Desperate for answers, the husband demands an explanation, but his wife's tears offer no solace. With secrets buried deep within her heart, she refuses to speak, leaving the wounds of betrayal to fester and the rift between them to widen. As days turn into nights, the husband's resentment festers, his love turning to hatred with each passing moment. Refusing to eat the meals prepared by his wife's loving hands, he spirals into a dark abyss of anger and despair, consumed by the bitterness of betrayal. But the wife, devastated and broken, refuses to give up hope. With each passing day, she fights to save her marriage, to prevent the pronouncement of the second talaq that looms over their heads like a shadow of doom. With every ounce of strength she possesses, she clings to the hope of redemption, determined to rewrite their story and reclaim the love they once shared. But as accusations fly and trust crumbles, their marriage hangs in the balance,teetering on the brink of destruction, In a moment of drunken rage , he committed an unforgiveable act, violating the sanctity of their union and leaving his wife broken and alone. With accusations of infidelity ringing in her ears, she stands accused and abandoned, her hearth heavy with sorrow Though the wife was broken and devasted, she refused to give up, with each passing day , she fights to protect her marriage, to prevent the remaining pronouncement of "talaaq" which automatically dissolves , her marriage, along the line something unexpectedly happened an intriguing twist ,.....the question is would she be able to prevent the pronouncement of the remaining talaaqs and what's this plot twist ?

okwumbaleo1 · Urban

Not enough ratings

4 Chs

Chapter 2

Ayesha sat in her childhood bedroom, the familiar surroundings offering a strange mix of comfort and sorrow. Her mother's footsteps echoed in the hallway, growing louder as they approached. The door creaked open, and her mother's concerned face appeared in the doorway.

"Ayesha, dear, is everything alright?" her mother asked, her eyes filled with worry. "Why haven't you moved in with Farhan? It's been almost a week since the wedding."

Ayesha forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside her. "Mama, everything is fine. Farhan and I discussed this. We decided I would stay with you for a little while. He's looking for a new place for us to live."

Her mother's eyebrows knitted together in doubt. "Really? That doesn't make much sense. Why wouldn't you just move in with him now and look for a place together?"

Ayesha bit her lip, her heart pounding. "It's just how we planned it, Mama. Farhan thought it would be nice for me to spend some time with you before we settle down completely."

Her mother sat down on the bed beside her, taking her hands in hers. "Ayesha, you know you can tell me anything. If there's something wrong, you don't have to hide it."

Ayesha looked away, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry. "It's fine, really," she said softly. "Farhan and I are fine."

Her mother sighed, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, if you say so. But I hope you know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

Ayesha nodded, squeezing her mother's hands. "I know, Mama. Thank you."

As her mother left the room, Ayesha lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't tell her mother the truth. Not yet. She needed time to think, to figure out how to fix the mess she was in.

Farhan had pronounced the first talaaq during their honeymoon, his anger and disappointment evident in every word. It had been a devastating blow, but Ayesha knew that their marriage wasn't over yet. They were still legally married until he pronounced it two more times. She had time to make things right.

"Well, Farhan just proclaimed his first talaaq," she thought to herself, a mix of determination and fear coursing through her. "We are still legally married. Until he makes the pronouncement three times, our marriage is not over. For now, I'll try everything I can to make him see reason and not pronounce the remaining talaaqs."

Ayesha resolved to find a way to reach Farhan, to show him that their marriage was worth saving. She would not give up without a fight. She owed it to herself, to her love for him, and to the vows they had taken.

The next morning, Ayesha's mother brought up the subject again over breakfast. "When do you think you'll be going back to Farhan?" she asked gently.

Ayesha took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Soon, Mama. Very soon. Farhan and I just need a little more time to sort things out."

Her mother's eyes softened with understanding. "Alright, dear. Just remember, whatever happens, you have my support."

Ayesha nodded, grateful for her mother's unconditional love. "Thank you, Mama."

After breakfast, Ayesha decided to reach out to Farhan. She picked up her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number. The phone rang, and she held her breath, waiting for him to answer.

"Hello?" Farhan's voice came through the line, sounding distant and cold.

"Farhan, it's Ayesha," she said, her voice trembling. "Can we talk?"

There was a long pause before he replied. "What is there to talk about, Ayesha?"

"Everything," she said softly. "I don't want us to end like this. Can we please meet and talk things through?"

Another pause. Then, finally, he sighed. "Where can we meet?"

Ayesha hesitated, unsure of what to suggest. "Can I come over to the house?" she asked cautiously. "Can I bring my bags?"

There was no response for a few moments, just the sound of Farhan's breathing on the other end of the line. "I'm always at home," he finally replied, his voice flat and emotionless.

Ayesha felt a mix of relief and anxiety. "Alright," she agreed. "I'll come over this afternoon."

No response from Farhan

As Ayesha hung up the phone, she felt a glimmer of hope. It was a small step, but it was a start. She would do everything in her power to save their marriage, to show Farhan that their love was worth fighting for.

With that resolve, she began to prepare for the meeting, her heart filled with a mix of hope and determination. She chose her outfit carefully, wanting to appear both confident and approachable. She packed her bags, her hands trembling slightly, and left the house, telling her mother she had some errands to run.

When she arrived, she took a moment to look around. The house looked beautiful. The garden was well-kept, flowers blooming in vibrant colors. She admired the neatness of the lawn, and the vines climbing up the trellis.

"This is where our love was supposed to continue," she thought to herself, feeling a pang of sadness. "If not for the incident on our honeymoon…"

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No response, the second knock followed by a response , "who is there"

her heart pounding, "its me ayesha"

There was a silence then followed by the "door is opened"

As she entered the living room it is cozy and inviting. Farhan was seated on the couch, watching TV, but he muted it when she walked in.

Ayesha stood there for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. She couldn't hold back any longer. She knelt down in front of Farhan, tears streaming down her face. "Farhan, please," she began, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for everything. I don't want to lose you. Please, can we try to fix this?"

Farhan said nothing, his face a mask of cold indifference. He looked at her for a moment, then stood up and walked out of the room, leaving her kneeling there, alone and heartbroken.

Ayesha remained on her knees, staring at the space where Farhan had been sitting just moments ago. Her heart ached with the weight of his silence. She wiped her tears, trying to gather the strength to stand up. The cozy and inviting living room now felt cold and unwelcoming.

Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet and looked around. Their wedding photos adorned the walls, a stark reminder of the happiness they once shared. The laughter, the joy, all seemed so distant now. She walked over to one of the photos, tracing Farhan's smiling face with her finger.

After a few minutes, Ayesha decided to find Farhan. She walked through the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the silence. She found him in their bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The sight of him like this broke her heart even more.

"Farhan," she said softly, stepping into the room. "Please, can we talk?"

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and pain. "What do you want to talk about, Ayesha? What's left to say?"

Ayesha took a step closer, her voice trembling. "I want to talk about us, about our future. I know I've made mistakes, and I'm so sorry for that. But I love you, Farhan. I believe we can work through this if we try."

Farhan shook his head, his expression hardening. "It's not that simple, Ayesha. Trust is broken. And once it's broken, it's almost impossible to fix."

"But we can try," she insisted, her eyes pleading with him. "Please, Farhan. We can go to counseling, talk things through, anything. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this right."

He stood up, his hands clenched at his sides. "Do you really think a few sessions with a counselor will erase everything that's happened? Do you think it will magically make everything okay?"

Ayesha felt a surge of desperation. "No, I don't think it will be easy. I know it will take time and effort from both of us. But I'm willing to fight for our marriage. Aren't you?"

Farhan stared at her for a long moment, his face a mixture of emotions. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know, Ayesha. I'm so tired. Tired of the arguments, the hurt, the disappointment. I need time to think."

Ayesha's heart sank, but she nodded, understanding that pushing him too hard might only make things worse. "Take all the time you need," she said softly. "I'll be here, waiting, hoping that we can find a way back to each other."

Farhan didn't respond. Instead, he walked past her, leaving the room. Ayesha stood there, feeling more alone than ever. She knew this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey, but she was determined to do whatever it took to save their marriage.

That night, she lay in their bed, staring at the ceiling, tears silently streaming down her face. She prayed for strength, for patience, and for the chance to rebuild the love they once had. As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Ayesha made a silent vow to herself: she would not give up on Farhan, on their marriage, on their future together. No matter how hard it got, she would keep fighting for the love they had shared, hoping that one day, he would do the same.

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