Zoya

Today Zoya had a shorter day shift and was planning to return home early, spend time with Zaib, make him dinner and relax for the rest of the evening. They had not been the closest lately; however, his gesture in visiting her workplace with food had touched her heart. He was making an effort to stay close to her amongst the chaotic schedules; she wanted nothing more than to return that.

Her shift was a later in the morning so by the time her alarm yanked her out of her slumber, Zaib had already left. She was disappointed that she hadn't gotten to see him but felt incredibly excited about the evening she had planned. She changed into her hospital scrubs and consumed a quick breakfast of a croissant and a cup of strawberry yoghurt.

Before leaving, her gaze landed upon the little, pink sticky note hanging from the fridge's surface. She perked up, dashing towards the kitchen and stared at the cursive writing.

'I know you want to see me every morning and trust me I do too, but it was a really important meeting. I can't wait for our date today. PS: I stole a morning kiss.

You can return it when I'm back

- Z '

She traced the words with her fingers, smiling like a lovesick fool. She imagined him briskly searching for the pack of sticky notes and grabbing one from her desk to write this affectionate message for her. He unknowingly did romantic things for her, which made her heart overflow with love for him.

She wanted to do something in return of his doting so Zoya had worked on a little gift for him: a scrapbook, in which she highlighted some things she loved about him and had compiled them with series of some of their stunning pictures. She had started it during free hours at university when she'd be waiting in the short interval between the first and the next lecture.

She would gift it tonight and also confess. She had finally decided to tell Zaib the truth. God, she ached when she thought of him hurting. She didn't want to inflict more harm by carrying on lies with regularity.

She could only hope Zaib would understand and forgive her.

As she headed to the bus stop, her phone vibrated in her pocket, halting her steps. The ID read 'Mom'. She wondered what her mother-in-law would want on a regular Wednesday morning; she answered the call immediately.

"Zoya please, it's urgent! I need your help, it's Zain," choked sobs escaped the speaker and Zoya felt her heart sink upon hearing the desperation in her tone. This could not be good. It was something bad.

"I'm on my way," she found herself muttering. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, almost causing her to double over in anxiety. There wasn't enough time to ask for explanations or wait for the bus; she signalled over the first taxi she saw and hopped in.

The ride was longer than it needed to be. The entire journey, Zoya's heart was in her throat, breathing uneven. Upon reaching Zaib's house, she dashed to the door and noticed it was unlocked and slightly ajar. She dreadfully stepped inside and a very disarranged living room came into view. Vases shattered- torn pages from books dispersed across the floor. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she noticed drops of blood, drying into a reddish-brown. Chills travelled down her spine as goosebumps rose on her arm— what had happened here?

A blood-curdling scream reverberated through the house, the source of the sound coming from upstairs. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, Zoya dashed upstairs into the master bedroom—the closest room. There, slumped on the floor was Zain, passed-out and bleeding from his hand-her bedraggled mother-in-law weeping as she held him close to her frame, her eyes soulless. Zoya's breakfast threatened to lurch up- she felt sick.

Instinctively, Zoya hurried to the injured man and started assessing him. His hand was wounded, probably self-inflicted. The problem, however, was his abnormal pulse rate which was very weak, his breathing shallow; the biggest giveaway was his blue lips and fingers: this was a drug overdose.

"How long has he been like this?" She urgently enquired, her voice soft, scared she would cause the drained woman more anxiety.

"H-he passed out just now. Zoya, he was not himself. He-I-tried to help but then—" a strangled cry left the older woman and she visibly collapsed, her body quivering.

"Take a deep breath mom; you don't need to tell me everything right now. He is not in a critical state yet, but we need to get him to a hospital immediately. The ambulance will take a while to arrive but I have connections." Zoya grabbed out her phone as she dialled the number.

"Position him straight up to make sure he's getting as much oxygen as possible. Open the windows," Zoya instructed and then quickly informed the emergency services.

The next ten minutes were a blur. When the help finally arrived, they rushed Zain to the hospital while Zoya notified them about his condition and even aided the ambulance workers as they were short of staff. Zain had been given a breathing tube and intravenous fluids which were injected into him, trying to clear the drugs out of his system.

Between assisting the ambulance service and deflecting her mother-in-law's concerns, Zoya powered herself with determination. Her family needed her; she would be there for them. They finally arrived at the hospital and Zain was wheeled into the emergency room.

His mother insisted on accompanying her son inside the treatment room but it was strictly impermissible. "Mom, he will be fine. I'll keep you updated on his situation. I've seen many cases like this; I'm sure he will be okay by Allah's mercy," she placated.

A few hours passed by when the doctors finally informed them that Zain was stable; however, visitors would have to wait an extra hour.

Hearing the news, both the women cried out in relief and thanked Allah for His mercy.

His mother calmed down and then she spoke, "Zoya before I tell you what happened today I need you to promise me that this will stay between us. My husband is on a business trip at the moment. If he ever finds out what happened in his absence, he will never be able to forgive Zain. And Zaib won't be able to bear it either."

"But—" Zoya tried to interject. She wasn't sure it would be best to keep this a secret anymore.

"No Zoya, I need your word."

Zoya reluctantly looked down at the ground, debating her conscience whether to accept or not. But one glance at the distraught woman in front of her confirmed her thought, she had no say in this whatsoever.

"Okay, I promise."

Zaib's mother clutched Zoya's hand.

"Zain had been coming home late after his drug parties. Today, he came home at nine in the morning, having spent the whole night away from home," the poor woman begun, her voice quivering as if she was reliving the moments before he was rushed to the hospital.

"I— I couldn't bear it anymore. I confronted him, tried to knock some sense into him! And he-" her murmurs turned into loud whimpers and Zoya quickly grabbed her hand tightly, reassuring her.

"He blamed me for his problems and made horrible claims about my lack of love for him. He— he said I was the reason he had started to ease his pains with drugs!" Zoya grimaced, her heart galloping at the cruelty of his words. She felt a horrible ache in her lower stomach.

"When I said Zaib would be pained to find out about this, he completely lashed out! He destroyed whatever he could lay his hands on. He-was-unnaturally violent." Mentioning Zaib probably hit a nerve for his younger brother and he lost control, the hurling emotions of pain and embarrassment flooding his system.

"A-and then I called you. In a flash, he rushed upstairs and knocked back some more drugs and got into a frantic state, rambling about how things would become better if he—if he just- died!" She whispered the last word. Anyone before her could see the excruciating pain in her eyes, making her numbly quiet.

Zoya fiercely pulled her into a tight hug, praying that she could somehow erase the memories of such awful events. She couldn't imagine how traumatic it must've been for a mother to see her child in that state, wishing for death. Zoya found hot tears spilling on her flushed face. These people were her family now and they were hurting, badly.

Thinking about them, she remembered Zayna. "Mom, who's going to pick Zayna up from school? She'll be finished in an hour."

Realization dawned upon the mother and she gasped. "I'm supposed to pick her up but I can't leave Zain in this circumstance, not to mention the disastrous state of our home right now. I need to call Afeesa to ask her to take care of Zayna for a couple of days."

The women were interrupted by the nurse informing them that Zain could have visitors now. Zaib's mother immediately shot up, "I have to be there for him."

"Zoya dear, can you please call my sister for me. Do you have the number saved from the wedding?" She asked and Zoya nodded.

"Yes, I am in contact with her."

"Thank you, dear," her mother-in-law gave her a tight embrace before entering the hospital room.

Zoya slipped out the phone from her pocket and unlocked it. As soon as she did, she had a feeling of apprehension rush over her at the sight: there had been thirty-two missed calls from Zaib in the past four hours. Her heart crashed against her chest. She wanted to return the call immediately but her priority was to make sure Zayna was settled first.

After making arrangements for Zayna to stay with their relatives, Zoya hurriedly clicked on Zaib's number, hoping he wouldn't be too upset. The phone rang through a few times and then...the call was declined.

Uneasiness settled down her chest and she gulped, filled with anxiety. Zoya waited a few minutes before calling back again. Why had he rejected her call? Was he still in a meeting?

Again, the call was declined. Then Zoya's phone screen lit up from a new message.

Zaib💖

come home immediately

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