His Other Wife Read online

  His Other Wife

  By

  Umm Zakiyyah

  HIS OTHER WIFE

  A Novel

  By Umm Zakiyyah

  Copyright © 2015 by Al-Walaa Publications.

  All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-942985-00-6

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015958572

  All characters and events in this book are fictional.

  Any resemblance to real persons or incidents is coincidental.

  Order information at ummzakiyyah.com/store

  Verses from Qur’an adapted from Saheeh International, Darussalam, and Yusuf Ali translations.

  Published by Al-Walaa Publications

  Camp Springs, Maryland USA

  Front cover photo from shutterstock.com copyright © by Kues

  Back cover photo from shutterstock.com copyright © by michaeljung

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This book gives a glimpse into the fictional lives of Muslims who are striving to hold themselves, their lives, and their faith together after having suffered emotional, spiritual, and sexual abuse. As such, some sensitive subjects and experiences will be highlighted, albeit lightly. In this vein, all reflections, quotes, and journal entries mentioned herein are devised by me for the purposes of this literary work unless otherwise noted, whether in reference to a popular saying or to a specific author or expert.

  The self-help book YOU CAN BE A BETTER PERSON! that is referenced in the latter part of the novel is completely fictional, as are the quotes from it. However, the books Trail of Broken Wings by Sejal Badani and No Time To Say Goodbye by Carla Fine are real, as is the organization Words Heal Inc: Sadie Peterson Delaney Literary Collaborative that provides resources for bibliotherapy, the use of books in healing and therapy.

  The term “groupie” as referenced in fictional conversations in the novel was borrowed from the context used in the Facebook post by coach Megan Wyatt:

  Seeking Islamic knowledge isn't about being a “groupie.” It's about seeking 'ilm [knowledge] to bring you closer to Allah, and deeper into living your purpose. And for growth to happen, people often need to leave their ‘group’ to expand their knowledge. People often panic when they see people doing this, assuming they are somehow going astray. Beneath the panic is a hidden fear that one is afraid if they were to leave their group, they would go astray. So holding on to a "groupie identity" becomes a means of feeling certain. But a true seeker, one who is sincere about knowing God and living their purpose must not be one caught up in titles and labels, and rather, be moving with a heart that is always saying “Guide me [O Allah], and I will follow You.” La ilaha il Allah is our purpose - find it wherever you must to actualize it.

  Anyone interested in participating in affiliate programs or projects dedicated to community outreach and/or promoting literature and organizations for those facing spiritual and emotional crises can contact [email protected].

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I thank all of my UZ readers and members of His Other Wife Discussion Group for their support and feedback. I thank my developmental editor Jamilah El-Amin at [email protected] for her time and dedication to this project. I also thank my daughter Fareedah for her honest critique of the original short story series.

  I send a special thanks to my business consultant, KI Creative Studios at kicreativestudios.com, for their phenomenal work. This project wouldn’t have been possible without you.

  And as always, after God Himself, I owe my greatest thanks and appreciation to everyone who has remembered me in their private and public supplications to the One who holds with Him all good. A heartfelt thanks to you all.

  Last and definitely not least, I thank you, the reader, for taking this journey with me.

  May each of you be granted the greatest success in this world and the highest success in the Hereafter.

  GLOSSARY OF ARABIC TERMS

  Abi: “my father”

  adhkaar: recitation of remembrance of God or mentioning His Names (plural of dhikr)

  akhi: “my brother”

  Allah: the Arabic term for “God”

  Allahu’alam: “God knows best”

  alhamdulillah: expression of praise to God

  ‘aqeedah: foundational religious beliefs

  ‘aqeeqah: celebration after the birth of a baby

  as-salaamu’alaikum: the Muslim greeting of peace, often followed by wa-rahmatullaahi and wa-barakaatuh

  astaghfirullah: “I seek God’s forgiveness”

  a’oodhubillaah: “I seek refuge in God”

  ayah: part or verse of the Qur’an

  bai’ah: vow/pledge of loyalty and obedience

  bi’idhnillah: “with the help of God”

  bismillaah: “in the name of God”

  daff: hand drum

  da’wah: any teaching about Islam

  dhikr: recitation of remembrance of God

  du’aa: informal prayer or supplication to God

  dunya: the life of this world (as opposed to the Hereafter)

  emaan: faith or belief in God and Islam

  fatwa: religious ruling

  fitnah: a trial, tribulation, problem, or something that causes great difficulty to face or overcome

  habeebti: “my love”

  hadith: statement of Prophet Muhammad

  halaal or halal: permissible, allowed

  haraam: forbidden, sinful

  hifdh: memorization of the Qur’an

  inshaaAllah or insha’Allah: God-willing or if God wills

  Istikhaarah: formal prayer and supplication performed when trying to make a decision

  Jannah: Paradise

  jilbaab: outer garment for Muslim women that resembles a large, loose dress (also “abaya”)

  Jumu’ah: congregational Friday prayer services

  khimaar: cloth head cover worn by Muslim women, often referred to as hijab

  kufi: skullcap

  kufr: disbelief in Islam

  maashaaAllah or mashaAllah: “It was God’s will,” said in admiration or acceptance of something

  madhhab: an Islamic school of thought

  madhloom: one who has been wronged or oppressed

  mahr: dowry (marriage gift) given to the woman upon marriage

  masjid: mosque

  mimbar: pulpit

  mus-haf: an all-Arabic Qur’an (Muslim holy book)

  musallaa: prayer area

  naseehah: sincere advice

  nasheed: Islamic song

  nikaah: marriage contract or ceremony

  niqaab: face veil

  qadr: fate or predestination

  qiblah: the direction of Makkah, faced during formal prayer

  Qiyaam al-Layl: voluntary night prayer (also Taraweeh)

  Qur’an: Muslim holy book

  Salaah: formal, obligatory prayer, of which there are five: Fajr, Dhuhr, Asr, Maghrib, and ’Ishaa

  sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam: “May peace and blessings be upon him.”

  seerah: biography

  shahaadah or shahādah: formal testimony recited to mark one’s entry into Islam

  Shaytaan (plural: shayateen) Satan or demon

  shirk: worshipping other than God; giving God attributes of creation or vice versa

  shuyookh: plural for “sheikh”

  surah or soorah: a chapter of the Qur’an

  subhaanAllah: expression of glorification of God; often said in surprise, dismay, or deep reflection

  Sunnah: life example of Prophet Muhammad; also: voluntary prayer

  tab’an: “of course” or “naturally”

  tafseer or tafsir: explanation of the meaning of Qur’an

  taqwaa: God-consciousness or sincere piety

  tawakkul: complete trust
in God

  thawb: Arab-style male robe

  ukhti: “my sister”

  Ummi: “my mother”

  wa’alaiku mus-salaam: the Muslim greeting of peace and response to as-salaamu’alaikum, often followed by wa-rahmatullaahi and wa-barakaatuh

  waleemah or walimah: wedding celebration

  wali: a woman’s marriage guardian; also: ally of Allah or sincere, pious worshipper with whom God is greatly pleased (plural: awliyaa’)

  wallah, wallaahi, or wallahi: a term used to make an oath in God’s name

  zina: fornication or adultery

  For the struggling men and women. You know who you are.

  “Marriage is not the end of the rainbow, and divorce is not the end of the world.”

  —from the journal of Umm Zakiyyah

  Chapter 1

  His Other Wife

  In the foyer of her apartment, Aliyah tilted her head to the side and unfastened the decorative hijab pin that secured the plum chiffon fabric in place. As the khimaar loosened itself from her head, she exhaled and kicked off her flats, relieved to be home. She set the scarf pin on the front table next to her cell phone then casually tapped her forefinger on the mobile screen to log in to her voicemail.

  Aliyah frowned in disappointment as she realized that the single message that had been left on her phone while she was at work all day was from her uncle. Disinterested, she put the voicemail on speakerphone as she pulled the loosened cloth from her head then ran a palm over the braids plaited to her scalp in cornrows. Holding her khimaar, she scooped up the phone with her free hand and headed to the couch as her uncle’s eager voice projected from the mobile.

  “…So give me a call, Aliyah. I think this may be the one.” Aliyah rolled her eyes as she let the chiffon cloth fall to the floor table in front of the couch then stabbed at her phone to delete the message before pressing the red icon to end the call.

  She appreciated her uncle’s enthusiasm in fulfilling his role as her marriage guardian, but she wasn’t ready to get married. Her uncle had converted to Islam when she was in high school and had been influential in her own decision to become Muslim, and for that, she would always be grateful. Her parents practically disowned her after she left the church, and Benjamin was the closest thing to a father she’d had since accepting Islam in college. But for the past eight months Aliyah was becoming increasingly annoyed with her uncle.

  But Aliyah couldn’t ask her uncle to stop looking for a husband for her. Benjamin was wrestling a guilty conscience more than he was feeding his enthusiasm as her wali. It wasn’t his fault that Aliyah was divorced. She wished he could understand that. If there was anyone to blame for her marriage falling apart, it was Aliyah herself. She was the one who’d eagerly introduced Matthew to her uncle and begged him to support the marriage. She’d foolishly believed that if she did everything right, everything would turn out all right.

  Matthew was one of the good guys, Aliyah couldn’t deny that. But she should have been less naïve about the nuances of the spiritual growth of a new Muslim. Matthew had been Muslim only a year when they’d met, and Aliyah had been Muslim for eight. It wasn’t until they were living together as husband and wife that the seven years between their Islamic experiences felt like light years.

  Aliyah tossed her cell phone on a sofa cushion then collapsed onto the couch herself. She leaned her head back in exhaustion and stared at the ceiling of her apartment. I need a new job, she thought to herself. She liked teaching algebra and computer science at the local college, but the money simply was not enough.

  She fought a tinge of guilt as she recalled being penniless and jobless and begging God to send her any form of provision. In the end, it was her best friend, Deanna, who came through for her by asking her husband to put in a good word for Aliyah at the college where he worked. Aliyah was ecstatic when she was notified that she was hired for the position. It had been hard to believe she was a bona fide college professor now. And it didn’t hurt that the masjid was only a five-minute drive from the campus, so she was able to relax in the women’s prayer area during her lunch break and planning periods if she didn’t have any student appointments.

  The shrilling of the home phone sent Aliyah’s heart racing, and she sat up quickly and opened her eyes. Aliyah hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep. The house was dark except for a glow of light coming from the kitchen. The phone shrilled again, and Aliyah groaned as she pushed herself off the couch and walked over to where the cordless sat on a wall table near the front door.

  “Hello?”

  “Girl, open the door.”

  Aliyah hung up without replying, and true to character, Deanna was pounding on the front door before Aliyah could even unbolt it and pull it open.

  “Are you deaf?” Deanna said as she stepped into the foyer carrying a half-full paper grocery bag. “I’ve been standing outside that door for at least ten minutes.”

  Deanna must have come from one of her workshops, Aliyah guessed based on the tailored crimson pantsuit and matching stilettos that she wore. Deanna’s flushed cheeks suggested agitation that had been incited by something other than Aliyah, but Aliyah knew Deanna wouldn’t mention whatever it was. Deanna’s façade of strength was impenetrable.

  “I’m sorry, Deeja,” Aliyah said as she closed the door and locked it. “I was knocked out.”

  Deanna rolled her eyes as she handed the paper bag to Aliyah then readjusted the straps of her designer handbag on her shoulder. “Put the ice cream in the freezer before it melts, and you might want to heat up the gyros in the microwave.”

  Aliyah’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face as she peered into the bag. “You brought gyros?”

  “Yes, against my better judgment,” Deanna said as she kicked off her heels. “You know that bread has too many carbs.”

  “I love you, Deeja!” Aliyah sang out as she made her way to the kitchen and Deanna invited herself into the living room.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where’s the remote?”

  “It’s probably on the couch somewhere,” Aliyah called out from the kitchen. A minute later she returned to the living room with the gyros on a glass serving plate, a stack of paper napkins next to them.

  “I saw his other wife,” Deanna said as she stretched out her legs and flexed each foot from where she sat on the couch.

  Aliyah felt nauseated as she set the plate on the floor table in front of Deanna then pushed aside the khimaar that was lying there. “How do you know it was her?”

  Deanna pointed the remote toward the television to turn down the volume. “It was her.” She set down the remote then reached for a gyro. “She was with Matt,” she said as she folded her legs under her as she often did to get comfortable.

  “May Allah bless their marriage,” Aliyah muttered as she lifted a gyro from the plate then sat down next to Deanna on the couch.

  Deanna’s hand froze inches from her mouth as she glared at Aliyah. “No, Ally. That is not the correct response to this news.”

  “Deanna Janice Bivens,” Aliyah said, purposefully using the authoritative tone that Deanna’s mother often used when she referred to Deanna by her full name, “yes it is the correct response. Now let’s eat.”

  “You know what your problem is?” Deanna said thoughtfully, setting down her gyro. “You’re too nice. That’s why people run all over you. I’m not saying you have to wish harm on that girl, but you don’t have to pray for her marriage. She stole your husband, for goodness sake.”

  “She didn’t steal my husband.” Aliyah took a generous bite of her gyro, her eyes on the television screen as she savored the taste of soft bread, seasoned lamb, raw onions, and cream sauce.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot,” Deanna said sarcastically. “You gave him to her.” She picked up her gyro again and took a bite, a disturbed expression on her face as she stared at the TV, her cheeks bulging slightly as she chewed.

  Aliyah lifted the remote from next to Deanna and turned up the vo
lume, but it was difficult to pay attention to what the detective actress was saying to the police officer.

  “Even when we were in college,” Deanna said, raising her voice over the television, “you always wanted to make everyone happy. But there’s only one woman who can make a man happy, and that’s his wife.”

  Aliyah remained silent until she finished her gyro. “She is his wife,” she said as she lifted a napkin from the plate and wiped her hands and mouth.

  “And she was also his second wife.”

  Aliyah gritted her teeth. “Deeja, let’s not go there.”

  “Ally, please. You know I’m right. You practically became the poster child for women supporting polygamy, and that was a terrible mistake. You don’t let some woman convince you it’s your Islamic duty to share your husband.”

  “I suggested polygamy, she didn’t,” Aliyah said, voice clipped. “Anyway, what does it matter now? I’ve been divorced for over a year. Leave it alone.”

  “No, I can’t,” Deanna said. “I’m really bothered that you didn’t take my advice.”

  “Why do you think you have the answer to everything? You may be a marriage counselor, but that doesn’t make you an expert on marriage.”

  “Do you even hear yourself? Of course that makes me an expert on marriage. This is my area of expertise. I did my doctorate thesis on—”

  “Yes, I know, as you’ve said a million times. But every marriage isn’t salvageable, Deeja.”

  “See, Ally, this is what pisses me off, your defeatist attitude. Do you know why I’ve been married for eleven years and why Jacob and I would never even think about divorce?”

  “Um, let’s see…” Aliyah said sarcastically. “Could it be because of Allah’s qadr maybe?”