It was Ibrahim’s first birthday and Fawad and I knew too well the struggle that had brought us to this point. As I was getting dressed for the small family gathering that we had planned at home, I began to reminisce how this year had gone by. There were happy and bitter memories but now when I stood before the mirror adding a few final touches to my make-up the greatest feeling was of joy and contentment. Finally, it felt like everything was settled. Everything was perfect.

Fawad’s parents were here from Lahore and I was all the more grateful. Their presence made the family seem complete. Ibrahim was being spoilt to the brim by an ever-doting grandma and dad.

This one year… all those memories… I remembered how soon after starting to go to work, after my recuperation; Fawad had announced one fine day that he was changing his job. A market competitor was offering him a better position with a higher pay package and better facilities. It would foolish not to take it. In fact, he thought that this job would be the game changer. We would finally be able to afford to buy a house and be done with all this living ‘on rent’.

I wasn’t so encouraging at first. This place had held on to him when everything else was crashing. Very few corporate places would do this. And Fawad had really felt appreciated and now this. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“But your boss stood by you when you needed the job the most. Won’t that be disloyal of you Fawad to turn your back on her?” I knew losing Fawad wouldn’t be good for the company. They depended on him too much. He took care of most of the dealings with their foreign branches and so much more.

“That’s the point Saima. My salary is about the same as any newcomer at the firm and there hasn’t been any response to my application about a salary raise that I submitted months ago. In fact, HR called me today and told me that with all the holidays that I’ve taken already might cost me the job if I keep pushing for an increment. That sounded a lot like blackmail. I won’t be blackmailed into keeping my mouth shut Saima. I know how good I am with my work and I owe it to myself to do what’s right for my family.” He sounded demotivated and stressed, but strangely stoical too.

I rarely saw him in that light. He was always so positive and spirited but when he came home today I really felt that he was tired of it all.

I didn’t mention, though I wanted to; why his boss wasn’t doing anything about it because I could tell that he already felt let down. We finished our meal in silence after that. Fawad needed his space. This was a huge decision and he had a lot of mental planning to do. After dinner he sat at his desk with his laptop and started working.

In hindsight I felt the transition was pretty much painless. Fawad joined the new job a week later and all the loose ends were tied pretty much quickly.

Working hours were almost the same with a handsome salary package. We began taking vacations and also organising dinner parties for family and friends.

I began to feel the essence of money and how it can buy you happiness sometimes, even though in my heart of hearts I knew that I was happy for a number of countless reasons that had nothing to do with material objects. But it was finally nice not to be budgeting all the time and planning for ages before purchasing something that I wanted. I pampered my child with clothes and toys and so much more. It definitely felt good.

And now here we were about to enjoy our baby’s first birthday. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. It felt good. I deserved it.

I could hear the guests coming in. My parents finally arrived followed by my friend Saman. I ushered them all into the drawing room. Ibrahim was all smiles and laughter.

Ibrahim became excited at the sight of so many colourful, lovely gifts. “You want to tear them all open, don’t you dear,” I said playfully. I was sure he would actually get more pleasure in ripping open the wrappings than the gifts themselves.

“Just enjoy the party Saima,” Fawad said more than once.

I thought everyone was already here and Ibrahim was getting restless. So, it was time to cut the cake.

“There’s one more person Saima. We’ll just wait for her.”

“Who is it Fawad?” I didn’t remember him mentioning anyone else besides the guests that were already here.

“It’s my boss Saima.”

“Boss? But he’s already here with his wife and kids.”

“No Saima, my previous boss,” Fawad informed me in a delightful tone. And as he said it, the bell rang and Fawad went to open the door.

I couldn’t help wondering why Fawad had invited her. As far as I could tell he had cut all ties from the old place when he resigned and didn’t he resent all of them after the way he felt he was treated. Why would he call her?

I saw Fawad let her in. She was looking particularly pretty in a black lace dress with a red bag, shoes and red lipstick to match. Fawad stood by the open door chatting with her, smiling and being all cordial and sweet.

The world stopped spinning on its axis. Was she the one? After that incident I really didn’t have reason to doubt my husband’s loyalty to me but when I saw the two of them together and the way they looked at each other I couldn’t help my mind going crazy.

Was he always in touch with her even after he changed jobs? Who accepts an invitation by an employee who practically left, throwing dust in your face? And who comes to a birthday party looking like a queen?

I was downright mad and when she approached me with a huge grin on her face I had to smile and greet her because I was the host and she was my husband’s friend, whatever that meant.