The Reckoning

"Susan, let us explain."
Rolf begins to step closer to them, his voice is commanding and confident. I'm struggling to deal with their disappointment. I look down, like a coward.
"No! You stay there. Fahmeen, explain this." Mum says, she's completely avoiding Rolf and I can feel the burn of her stare.

"Mum, I love him-
"How long?" She interrupts me, not wanting to know anymore than necessary.
"It's been-
"Since school started." Rolf says. I know we weren't together back then, so I look at him. He looks back at me.
"Yes, you were mine even back then, baby." His hand cups my cheek and I close my eyes at his affection but also knowing that they'd hate seeing this.
But remembering why we're here, why I'd risk all this pain, who I'd risk it for - I feel stronger. He makes me a better version of myself, gives me hope and I can be brave because of him.

"Our feelings are real." I squeeze his hand and leave his side to go closer to them.
"I never told you because I was scared of how you'd react just because of our positions."
"He's your teacher!" My sister shakes her head. Mum is watching me, patient letting me explain. She's always encouraged us to talk about our feelings and our problems.

"I know. But we've done nothing wrong. I under-we understand that people may think it's wrong but we're just two people who fell in love. There's nothing wrong with that." I hold mum's hand, I hold it tight. She doesn't push me away. Thank God. Her face is so disappointed though, the pain is unreal.
"So you're really going through with this?"
I make sure to look deep into her eyes when I say this, to prove I'm serious about Rolf.
"Yes. He's my life, mum. I've found him. My love."

We have to tell everything if we've come this far.

"Rolf?" My eyes find his and I need his support. He nods for me to go on. I see him swallow and I know this has made him nervous. He steps forward and comes close to my side.

"I'm pregnant."
She pulls her hand away quickly and my heart struggles to bear the pain of her separation.
Then my mother says the words I feared the most:

"Get out."
"Mum please-
"Fahmeen don't, just go. You've already chosen what you want." Sam says, she's crying. My tears start to fall and Rolf helps me up.
"Susan I'm sorry it had to be like this. Please don't blame your daughter, blame me."
"I do." She says, as if venom drips from her tongue.

"Fahmeen, let's go." He takes my hand, pulling me away. Maybe this is the best thing to do for now. But I can't go. I don't want to leave like this. My family is torn apart.
"No wait-
"Son of a bitch!"
We all look at my father who's angry beyond words. He only stares at Rolf and I feel him tense.
"Step out of the way, George. I won't tell you again." His voice is calm and I avoid my father's eyes. He has no right to be angry, to have a say in my life.
"Go away dad."

*Slap*

The sting was painful but all I could hear was bodies landing with a thud on the floor. Rolf's rage was unparalleled. I ignored the pain on my cheek and rushed forward as my father tried holding him off from anymore punches. Rolf landed one powerful one, nearly knocking him out. My father looked so weak, I hated how I pitied him.
"Rolf, stop." I touch his shoulder and his trembling body stills under my contact.

"For the sake of your daughter I will leave your head on your body. If you ever touch her again, I won't fucking stop till it's gone."

There was blood leaking from my father's mouth and I covered the sob that almost came out. I hated how he still affected me.
"Rolf, please." We need to just go. I need to stop hurting them.
My voice comes out pleading. Rolf quickly looks up at me.
"Shit."
He looks down at my father once his head had cleared and almost seems sorry.
"I'm sorry, baby." He stands and takes my hand, leading us out.

I don't think we'll be coming back.

...

*Mum, I love him*

*I love him*


*I'm pregnant*

She wakes up, sweat covering her forehead. Susan realised she was trembling, a woman who rarely cried was on the verge. The face of her daughter crying seemed to haunt her these past nights.

She even thought about the baby. Her unborn grandchild. The one she so easily threw out of her life. The guilt was eating away at her but the hurt easily subdued that. The secrets Fahmeen must have kept from her all this time. She felt sick imagining what else she could be hiding from her. Maybe this was all her own fault? If she raised them better this may not have happened. If she listened to the people who advised her to divorce her husband and give her children a fresh start in life, maybe her children wouldn't have done something like this. It was all her fault.

*24 years ago*

"What should I say?" Her sister shrugs as she's unsure too.

She wore her best clothes and even let her older sister style her hair. Susan never cared for what people thought of her but she figured the day she meets her future husband would be the best time. Apparently she was old enough to get married at 19, regardless if she thought herself, that she was too young. But her mother never cared for her feelings. So, it seemed, like always, the best thing to do would be to go along with what the elders say. They knew best, right? Susan was going to meet the man who proposed to her. Of course she's never seen him before or had a conversation with the man, but she trusted those around her. If they told her she was to be married then she would do just that.

"You look perfect." Aisha says, her teeth dazzling as she grins pleased with her work. Susan took a deep breath, she wouldn't let her nerves distract her from thoroughly assessing this man. If they were to marry, he ought to do something that catches her attention. Maybe make her laugh? Yes, that's it. He needs to have a good sense of humour if she ever was to get on with him.

Susan walked into the living room and there she saw him. His hair was fashioned like the trend of the time. He had a thick head of it and looked like he spent some time on it too. It reminded her a little of James Dean. He wore a formal shirt but a leather jacket on top. His boots were nice, she thought.

Susan's POV:

"Hi." He stood, a big smile on his face and hand out to shake. He seemed to be amused. Was something funny?
I didn't take his offered hand but sat down instead. He just thought that was hilarious too I guess as he just sat beside me. He didn't notice, or he ignored my distaste at him doing so.

"I'm George."
I chose to study the floor.
It was hard to go from brushing off any attention to suddenly having it all on me. This was weird and he was too close.
"Nice to meet you, George, I'm Susan." My eyes still down, I wouldn't forget my pleasantries.
There was an awkward silence. I wasn't going to say anything. He wanted to marry me, I on the other hand couldn't care less. Besides, if he wanted my hand he'd have to do a little better than that.
"I seem to have tough competition."
I side eye him, confused.
He leans closer and whispers,
"The carpet, it's nice huh?"

He watches the smile appear on my face and he laughs. *Maybe he wasn't so bad, after all?*

*Present*

She was back in her bed, years later and all that was left of her marriage was a bitter aftertaste and scars, emotional and physical. He who shall not be named was back in her life and it was her child she evicted. If she was to ever get her life back on track, it would be without him once again.

Susan creeps down the stairs and the TV's on. Her husband is on the sofa, comfy and relaxed. This is the perfect time.
"Alright, get out."
He looks back at her, mildly interested.
"Oh you're awake." He turns back to the TV.
"I won't ask again."
He heavily sighs and switches off the TV.
"You kicked your daughter out, now me too? What is this? Eviction day? I got no notice." He smirks.
"You're not funny anymore." Susan doesn't back down or turn away, and he finally notices she is serious.
"Fine, whatever. You'll want me back eventually."

That was easy, she thought.
She stands in her position as he walks about grabbing whatever little he owned.

The slam of the door gave her heart some peace. The house fell ghostly quiet and now it would just be her and one of her three children left.