Upon returning to their room, Tahir playfully mocked Warda, “I know what you are thinking.”

“I will do whatever you decide.” Warda looked intently into Tahir’s eyes as she responded.

“My love, I can assure you that many in the Taliban leadership do not share the minister’s viewpoint. Most of them are biased against modern education because they are madrassa graduates,” he commented as he changed into his pyjamas.

They were both contemplating issues as they pretended to sleep in bed. Tahir felt perplexed by his current sentiments for Warda and their eventual destiny together. “Can I say now that I love her unconditionally, or is it admiration of her strength of character? Is jealousy of her virtuous beliefs eroding my affection for her? Could her devotion to a cause make her love for me seem less important?”

Warda would always do as he said, he was sure of it. Even more troubling to him was that she would go to Pakistan with him without any reservations. She owed Shireen an obligation, which she might partially fulfil by continuing her mission of educating the Afghan women despite the difficulties she would face. Would he be burdened by the guilt of restraining her from discharging that commitment? Is her laughter a genuine expression of her joy or just an attempt to make him happy?

After he took a mental break and stopped thinking for a while, one thing became very clear to him: he was never going to abandon his wife, and he was responsible for her safety and well-being.

“I am expecting”. The exciting announcement from Warda jolted him out of his train of thoughts.

She had been experiencing morning sickness recently, and her dream of becoming a mother became a reality when she saw the positive result on the strip test she had packed.

“That is wonderful!” Tahir exclaimed as he leapt to his feet and turned to face Warda.

“Warda, we have to return for the sake of our child,” he said with seriousness. “The country has regressed by decades, and the wars have wrecked its infrastructure. It is not safe for you to have our child here. All the qualified doctors and nurses have already left.”

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The following day, they informed the authorities of their desire to return. It was a relief for Tahir to return home and resume his regular life with his loved ones. While everyone was overjoyed to hear the news of her pregnancy, she could not help but feel guilty about prioritising her interests over those of her countrywomen and being unable to sustain Shireen’s noble goal of empowering and educating the women of Afghanistan.

Meanwhile, her brother Mustafa departed for the USA for residency after passing the US Medical Licensing Examination.

As fate would have it, Warda had a miscarriage during her second trimester and lost her son. She was devastated, but she secretly believed this was destiny’s way of punishing her for betraying Shireen’s cause.

With her husband’s emotional support, Warda pretended life was normal.

Reports from her homeland indicated a state of relative calm but no signs of prosperity. The Taliban indeed reduced sexual assault and extortion practised by the warlords as weapons against the enemy. They generally improved law and order but clearly did not prioritise education. As a result, women suffered greatly in society, with limited opportunities for education, healthcare, and employment.

No matter how much Tahir tried to cheer her up—by spending more time with her, taking her out more frequently—he could tell that his wife was severely depressed. Often, he would discover her startled awakening in the middle of the night, her scream barely audible, as if she had just experienced a nightmare. The most unsettling thing was that she never spoke to Tahir about her apparent regret at abandoning Shireen’s mission, which was unfulfilled.

“Warda, for God’s sake, you are losing yourself to the past,” Tahir approached her directly.

“That’s ok as long as I don’t lose you,” sighed Warda.

“No, Warda! You know what I mean. I want the woman I married back. Please speak to me, Warda. We will have another child, and even if we don’t, we will adopt an orphan in Afghanistan,” Tahir spoke earnestly.

“I did not marry you for a child; I married you for you…my Warda,” he continued.

Warda looked up at Tahir and spoke in a broken tone, “Don’t ever talk to me about Afghanistan. That place cursed.”

“You are lying to yourself. Your heart is in Afghanistan. You and I will go there and stay for a couple of months. It would help if you started at Shireen’s school; they also have work for me,” Tahir pleaded.

The minister who offered us the assignments seemed to be a good person. As the Amir’s spokesman, he is an influential person who can guarantee our safety.”

Tears were now dribbling down her cheeks. Tahir was relieved to see that she was opening up.

“Your destiny is intertwined with that of Afghanistan, and I love you too much to see you in this state of sorrow and frustration. Happiness has its price; luckily, in our case, it’s not too much. After all, I’m a Pashtun, and my forefathers came from that country too. So let’s go, girl!”

Warda was weeping loudly as Tahir took her in an embrace.