Naila noted that the call is on recoding. "Oh, so you have been recording stuff," Naila shook her head and unlocked his ohone after hanging up with her mother. She navigated straight to voice recording folder and checked the files. She found a lot of them. Naila immediately shared a hundred of them to her phone and deleted the messages in the WhatsApp. She noted that some recordings looked longer and one was super long from the day before. The time kind of suited with the time they fought eat other. Naila smirked and opened the WhatsApp messages. She checked who all he had chatted with. And she noticed that few of the audio files has been shared with some of his friends and then one shared with a lawyer friend of his. "He is so cunning and fast," she mumbled and shared those audios to her chat and deleted them again. She threw the phone on the bed and opened the door, almost running to pick her phone up. Danish was waiting in the living area for his phone.
"Where is my phone?" He asked.
"On the bed," she replied the shut the door behind her. She downloaded all the audios and made sure she saved them in a separate folder.
She listened to the most longest audio from the day before as she expected, it was their fight. Naila smirked again. "I cannot believe that he has been recording all the conversations and calls," she laid back on the bed listening to all of them. She listened to many audios though some of them included his work calls. She then listened to the audios he had shared with lawyer friend and it looked like the audios has been edited. He had cropped the portions he shouted at her and shared only the clips Naila appeared to be screaming. Naila's heart ached. She felt crushed. "Why did I even choose to marry him?" She regretted again.
"What a load of crap," Naila cursed and put her phone down, wiping her tears and her nose. She felt sure that he is trying to sabotage her and blame her for the divorce, playing the victim card when Naila is the real victim. "I cannot just let this happen," she decided though she felt helpless. She was sure that no one is on her side. She understood that he is afraid that the court might ask him to pay alimony so he is creating scenarios where she appears to he the bad person who deserves nothing.
Naila got up and walked towards the table. She opened the draw and looked for the glass jar she gifted him. She opened the lid. She gifted Danish a complete customised gift hamper which he didn't open for days. And when he did, he did not even bother to ask what the wish jar meant. He did not write even a single wish in it. He did not write anything he wished to do with her, accomplish with her. It hurt Naila then when she understood the gift meant nothing to him as the jar looked empty for years. He did not notice when she started filling them either. Never once had he checked what she had written.
Naila decided to add a new wish in it. She picked a piece of scroll and wrote in it. "I wish I was understood at least once by my family," but that did not feel enough. She wrote another one. "I wish he regrets what he did to me. I wish he learns a lesson for destroying my life. I wish people see his true colours," she wrote a longer one. She rolled the tiny scrolls and tied them with the tiny satin ribbons to match the aesthetics. "I probably should find a lawyer I guess," she decided.
She packed the jar carefully. She picked up her phone and started ordering for trolleys. She wanted a set to pack her everything. She was not sure if everything would fit. She did not wish to stay another week in the house she put a lot of effort to maintain. It did not feel fair to be kicked out of the home shej contributed to build in her fair capacity. But she had no choice.
Naila stepped out of the room. She saw Danish leave in a hurry. She felt relieved. She was starving again. She made omelet and and buttered few slices of bread and had it. She then dressed up. She put on her grey wide legged jeans and maroon crop top. She put on her shoes and stepped out carrying nothing but her phone.
She walked through the streets. She knew deep in her heart that she will miss it dearly. "I cannot continue to live at my parents' place for long. I need to find a job," she decided. "I would rather live on streets than hear them nagging about how to be the ideal wife everyday".
Naila walked into her favorite cafe. She waited in the line. A good fifteen minutes later, she placed the order. She always wanted to try the mocha latte but never bravely spent her saved up money, afraid that she might run out of it.
Danish never gave her spending money or anything for emergency despite being a homemaker for a year. But he always asks why she would need money in her pocket while sitting at home doing nothing. He never gave a thought to how the house has been running, looking clean, tidy, and food on the table. He always believed that since she quit her job, she doesn't need extra money but get pissed that she stopped paying for expenses. He got pissed multiple times that he started forcing her to look for another job.
But Naila refused to listen to him for her sake, for her health.
Naila smiled at the waitress as she placed the drink on the table. It smelled good. She closed her eyes and took a sip. She felt good. "I want to keep feeling good," she told herself.