31. 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓!

"Just make sure to let me know when you're free so we can go on the walk you keep complaining you need," Ayesha said to me through the speakerphone of my phone, which was propped against my ear as I cut up the onions on the chopping board.

I chuckled, chopping the last onion and tipping the pieces into the skillet on the stove that now had melted butter in it.

"I'll probably be free tomorrow, Inshaa Allah, after breakfast, right before noon," I said. "I have an appointment tomorrow"

I'm finally at eight months, and I'm so excited and grateful for this journey. It feels like just yesterday we found out I was pregnant.

It's been months of always feeling tired, moods wings, aching feet, clothes not fitting and eating unhealthy food.

This pregnancy definitely hasn't been all rainbows and sunshine, but Alhamdulilah for this journey. I had even gained weight and I feel insecure about it, but Hassan loved the weight gain and never failed to let me know. If he could, I truly believe he would live in my skin. My clingy man.

These days, I've had to force him to go to work because he never wants to leave my side. And I the same. It's so endearing for someone to want to be in your presence all the time. It really shows me how in love we are.

"That's fine, babe," Ayesha replied. "I hear all the chopping, miss wife. It must be nice to have a handsome man coming home to you every day with flowers and chocolates."

That was true. Hassan had been bringing me either chocolate boxes or flowers whenever he could, and I really appreciated his thoughtfulness.

And I wanted to show my appreciation so I'm cooking his favorite dish for him. He's probably going to fuss about why I'm on my feet and not resting but he deserves this and more. I'm forever grateful for him.

"I'm sure Aunty can get you the same if you actually indulge her in her marriage conversations," I teased as I stirred the onion mixture on the skillet.

Ayesha gasped dramatically before she replied, "Halimah Musa! The only people she knows are over thirty and live back home. I am not doing it. Why can't my neighbor be secretly in love—wait, my neighbors are old. Never mind."

I burst into laughter at her resignation as I added shrimp to the skillet. The sizzle and aroma filled the kitchen.

With a quick flick of the wrist, I sprinkled a pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper over the shrimp, letting them sear to a perfect golden brown. I reached for minced garlic and chopped parsley, infusing the shrimp with their aromatic flavors.

The shrimp curled slightly as they cooked, turning opaque and tender.

"By the way, what are you cooking? I can practically smell how delicious it is."

"I'm making some alfredo shrimp pasta. You can come over; there's enough," I responded absentmindedly.

"Girl, I wish I could, but I unfortunately have plans...with my bed."

I let out a soft chuckle. Ayesha and I are truly the same person. I remember before I was married, it was extremely rare for me to leave home for leisure. I would be in the house either cooking, reading, or sleeping. Those days seem like years ago.

"Well okay, whenever you want to eat, you can always come over, bestie," I said, removing my phone from my ear and placing it on the counter before pressing the loudspeaker option as I walked to the fridge to get cheese.

"Of course, babe. I know Hassan is secretly tired of me with the rate at which I visit you."

"Of course not. He knows you're my number one bestie," I responded as I turned off the stove.

"Oh alright, since you insist. I already got an Uber coming."

I opened the fridge door and brought out the cheddar and mozzarella cheese. My hand instinctively brushed over my swollen belly, feeling a soft kick in response. I smiled and called out to Ayesha, "The baby just kicked."

"Oh my God. It's so weird to think that a human is growing in you, sorta creeped out too. Subhana'Allah, the miracles of Allah."

Honestly I can't wait to have a mini version of Hassan and I running around. I hope the baby gets Hassan's eyes.

Hassan and I already bought gender neutral clothes and the baby room was all furnished and done awaiting it's owner. Inshaa Allah we get to meet our little one soon.

I walked back to the counter where my phone lay to reply Ayesha, when my foot met a slick, cold patch on the tile floor. Before I could react, my legs slipped out from under me. For a split second, everything seemed to hang in the air, my body weightless and unbalanced. My heart pounded in my chest as I flailed, trying to find something to grab onto.

I tried to grab onto anything to balance myself but everything was out of reach.

Then I crashed down hard on my back, pain exploding up my spine. I gasped, the breath knocked out of me, my hands instinctively cradling my belly. The block of cheese skidded across the floor, coming to rest near the counter.

"Halimah? What's that noise?" I heard Ayesha's voice faintly in the background. Even through my limited hearing, I could hear the worry in her voice.

The shock of the fall left me dazed, a moan escaping my lips as I struggled to catch my breath. Fear surged through me, my thoughts racing. Is the baby okay? Did I hurt the baby? The edges of my vision blurred, the kitchen spinning around me in a nauseating whirl.

"Halimah!?"

I tried to speak but I was unable to. My tongue felt heavy and the pain in my back was excruciating.

I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt heavy, uncooperative. Darkness edged in from the corners of my sight, and I fought to stay conscious, to stay aware, but the effort was too much. The last thing I saw was the ceiling tilting above me, and then everything went black.

~

Ayesha's pov

In a state of panic, I found myself frozen in place, calling out Halimah's name over and over again. The sickening thud from the floor echoed in my mind.

With a surge of urgency, I sprang to my feet, hastily grabbing the abaya strewn across the room. My veil was wrapped hurriedly around my head as I clutched my phone, fingers shaking as I dialed the first number that came to mind.

Downstairs, the phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered, "Assalamu alaikum Ayesha, how are you?"

"Hassan, something's happened to Halimah," I blurted out in a frantic rush. "I heard something fall, and then she stopped responding. I don't know what's going on. I'm heading there now." I hastily locked the door behind me; my parents were out, leaving me home alone.

"I'm on my way," Hassan's reassuring voice came through the phone as I hung up.

Relief flooding through me as the uber car pulled up outside, and tears threatened to spill as I hurriedly climbed in, giving the driver Halimah's address as I nervously fidgeted in the back seat. Alhamdulilah, there was little traffic, and within twenty agonizing minutes, we arrived. I practically leaped out of the car, seeing Hassan's vehicle pull up beside me. Together, we dashed to the front door, Hassan unlocking it swiftly as he called out Halimah's name with a tremor in his voice.

"She was in the kitchen when we were talking," I managed to say, my heart racing as we hurried towards the room.

The sight that greeted us made my legs slack in shock and my breath catch in my throat.

Halimah was sprawled on the floor, her eyes closed and her face pale. One hand rested protectively over her swollen belly, the other splayed out at her side. A puddle of water glistened around her, seeping into the fabric of her abaya, coming from the open fridge door.

My heart pounded as I took in the scene. Her usually vibrant features were slack, her long veil splayed around her.

The hum of the fridge seemed louder now, almost mocking in its indifference.

For a second, I was rooted to the spot, my mind racing with panic and disbelief. Then, the urgency of the situation snapped me back into motion. My fingers quickly brought out my phone again as I called 911.

Hassan sprang into action, moving swiftly to Halimah's side with the intent to lift her, but my instincts as a nurse kicked in, and I shouted urgently, "Don't move her!"

"I can't just leave her there! That's my wife and baby!" he exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and anger coloring his voice, determined to reach out to her.

"Her vertebrae may be fractured, and by touching her, you may damage the spinal cord, and the nerves that branch out from the spinal cord, potentially paralyzing or killing her!" I shouted back.

He seemed to weaken at my words, his face draining of color as the gravity of the situation settled over him. His eyes widened in shock, and his hands began to tremble. His whole body shook as he staggered forward, his knees buckling under the weight of his fear and helplessness. He collapsed to the floor, his legs giving way completely.

As he sat there on the cold tile, his gaze fixed on Halimah's still form, anguish twisted his features. His eyes brimmed with tears, and his lips quivered, caught between the urge to cry out and the need to stay strong. Every muscle in his body seemed to strain with the desire to reach out and touch her, to reassure himself that she was still there, still alive.

His eyes roamed over her protectively cradled belly, her pale face, her motionless form, and his expression grew more tormented by the second. The want to help and touch his wife was so palpable in his expression, it was almost as if he believed sheer willpower could bridge the gap between them and bring her back to consciousness.

"Please, Halimah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please wake up." His anguish was raw and consuming mingling with the cold, clinical hum of the fridge and the persistent drip of water, each drop a cruel reminder of the accident .

I tried to not burst into tears and let the fear of the situation deter me as I spoke to the 911 operator on the phone then hanged up.

"They're on their way," I whispered and also slid to the floor.

She will be okay, my sister needs to be okay.

The minutes felt like hours as we waited, our fear and helplessness pressing down on us like a suffocating weight. Halimah remained unconscious, her breathing shallow but steady, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. Every small twitch of her hand or flutter of her eyelids sent a jolt of hope through me, only to be crushed when she didn't wake.

Then, in the distance, I heard the faint wail of sirens cutting through the still air. Relief and dread tangled in my chest as the sound grew louder, closer, until finally, the ambulance pulled up outside the house with a screech of tires.

I rushed to the front door and held it open for them to pass through, as I told them where she was as they neared me.

The paramedics moved with practiced urgency as they burst through the door into the kitchen, carrying equipment and a stretcher, their faces set in professional focus. One of them, a woman with kind eyes, knelt beside Halimah, immediately checking her vital signs.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice steady and reassuring.

"She slipped and fell while we were on the phone," I managed to say, my voice trembling. "She was unconscious when we found her."

The paramedic nodded, her hands moving swiftly as she assessed Halimah's condition. The other paramedic, a tall man with a reassuring demeanor, gently but firmly moved us aside to give them space to work.

"Let's get her on the stretcher," He said, his tone calm but urgent. "We need to get her to the hospital."

They carefully lifted Halimah, placing her on the stretcher with practiced ease. I watched, feeling both helpless and grateful as they secured her and prepared to move her to the ambulance. Throughout it all, her face remained pale, her eyes closed, and the fear gnawed at me relentlessly.

"Can I go with her?" I asked, my voice barely audible as I glanced up at Hassan walking beside me. I knew he wanted to stay by Halimah's side every moment, but the thought of us being separated was unbearable for me. I could only imagine how much worse it must be for Hassan. I had to ask, knowing I couldn't follow them on my own; I didn't drive and had no car.

Hassan nodded quickly, muttering that he would follow us in his car. I nodded in acknowledgment and turned to the paramedic with the same question.

"Of course," The lady with kind eyes replied. "We'll take good care of her."

As they wheeled Halimah out, I turned to see Hassan , his eyes red-rimmed but resolute. He nodded towards the car. I followed the paramedics, climbing into the ambulance, and hassan got back into his car and waited to follow us.

The doors slammed shut behind us, and the ambulance roared to life, speeding toward the hospital. Inside, the paramedics worked swiftly, their movements a blur of competence and care. I reached out, taking Halimah's hand in mine, and whispered a prayer, clinging to the hope that everything would be okay. Everything has to. O Allah help us.

I can only pull all my trust and worry on Allah because only he can help us in this situation.

Hasbunallah wa ni'mal-Wakil.

"And whoever relies upon Allah, then He is sufficient for him."

~

Assalamu alaikum besties🫣.

Eid Mubarak!

I am finally done with my exams (I totally failed some) and on my summer break so updates will be frequent now (I hope). Tell me what you think of the chapter, a bit heavy but i like how it turned out.

PLEASE Comment, vote and follow! I wanna know what ygs think of this book😭.