Marrying Mr. Arrogant

"Allah wants to lighten for you your difficulties, and mankind was created weak." -The Qur'an 4:28. ... "Ayra, come downstairs quickly. I need to take you to the hospital." My brother, Wali says, sounding irritated. I've not been feeling well got the last couple of days, so Mama told my brother to take me to the hospital for a checkup. As we reach the hospital, Wali takes me to the ultrasound room. The lady doctor asks me to lay on the stretcher and puts the ECG gel on my stomach. "Is she married?" She asks Wali after a few minutes. "No." His reply comes out more like a question. "Well, she's pregnant." I begin to panic. My heart beat goes wild. I look over at Wali and his lips are pressed into a thin line, disbelief marred across his face. "That's not true. Wali, I did nothing wrong. I promise." I frantically defend myself. "Sir, look here." she says, ignoring me and points to the ultrasound imaging machine. And there it is. My baby. "That's not true. That can't be true." I say again, my mind not functioning. Wali grips the railing as if plunging all of his rage onto it. "Just keep your mouth shut. She's a doctor, she knows what she's doing." "She's lying, Wali." I say, panic lacing my voice. "Listen, I'm a doctor and I'm only telling what I see. How can you deny it?" "No. No." I reiterate. "How far along is she?" Anger laces Wali's voice which makes my stomach sink with dread. "Give me five minutes. I'll bring a file with all the details." The doctor says and rises from her chair gracefully. I draw in a short, deep breath and slant my head towards Wali's direction. His gaze meets mine and the look he shoots me makes my already-dead heart shudder in its grave. Nostrils flaring, he looks away. Finally, the doctor arrives and throwing a disapproving glance at me she looks at Wali and offers a sad smile. "She's two months through." No emotion assails me. I feel so dead, I'm not even sure if I'm breathing or not. "Alright, thank you." Wali nods her goodbye, picks up the file, pays and angrily ushers me to follow him to the car. "Wali, I swear I didn't do anything." I refuse to accept it. Maybe if I keep denying it, it’ll become true. "If you don't shut up, I swear to God I'm going to kill you." As soon as we reach home, Wali shouts for Mama to come to the lounge. I hastily run to my room and lock it. What the hell have I done? What the hell have I done? What the freaking hell have I done? Regret and shame slam into me with a force so great, my knees buckle; the reality of this situation embeds itself inside me, making my legs collapse. I frantically reach for my bag around the bed and fish out my phone. I dial Sam’s number, grateful that I had kept it even after how things played out. Although, he's not my boyfriend and never was, it's still his baby. Even a person like him deserves to know something as big as this. After two to three rings, he picks up. I hear loud music bursting through the speakers and it crawls into my ears, giving rise to a headache. I don't give him a chance to speak. "Sam, I'm pregnant." He's silent for the space of two or three heartbeats. Then he says, "Listen, whoever you are, it's not my fault. Whatever it is, solve it on your own. And don't call me again." With this he hangs up. He didn’t even bother. As if this means nothing. Like I mean nothing. My heart shatters; thoughts whirling and I cry as hard as I can but it doesn't help with anything. With each breath, I feel asphyxiated. With each tear, I disintegrate. With each heartbeat, I feel empty. I feel dead. Like someone ripped my heart out and decided that I could live without one. Suddenly, I hear banging on my door. "Open this, right now!" Wali shouts, his voice reverberating through the wood of the door. I don't reply but my body shakes with fright of that which is to come. "Ayra, open the door." I hear Mama say. "Mama, are you still talking to her politely after all that she's has done!? She freaking committed zina (adultery)." Wali shrieks. "Wali, shh. The neighbours will hear it." "I don't care! I'm going to break this door!" Before he gets the chance to do so, I hurriedly walk over, spin the doorknob and cast the door open. After Mama, Wali and I are seated, they fire questions at me. "Who's the guy?" Mama inquires. I swallow hard, not knowing what to say. Words seem to be a novelty that I don’t have at the moment. "Mama the guy doesn't matter! What should we do with the baby?" Mama sighs dejectedly, "What can we do? We’ll get an abortion." My stomach tightens and I absently rub the pit of my stomach. Somehow that doesn’t sit well with me. "It's not allowed in Islam unless the mother's life is in danger or the baby is abnormal." Wali argues. "What should we do then? Let the baby come to life when it has . . . such a mother?" Mama cries. "I'll adopt the baby." Wali articulates. Hope flutters in my chest like a ray of light in utter darkness. Like finding water in the middle of a dessert. "No, you'll destroy your life!" Mama debates, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'll not kill an innocent! I'm not a murderer!" "We'll discuss this with your father after he comes home." Mama weakly mutters. "I can't believe I raised a child like this!"