33. 𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓

Pitch black. I am trapped in this black abyss, no clue on how I got here. Surrounded by soft murmurs of familiar voices and beeping sounds.

Where am I?

I can hear the world around me, distant and muffled, like echoes from another realm. Sometimes, I catch fragments of conversations—familiar voices tinged with worry and sadness. I recognize them, but they feel so far away, like a dream I can't fully grasp.

There are moments when I sense a presence beside me, a gentle touch on my hand, a brush against my cheek. I want to respond, to squeeze their hand, to open my eyes, but my body won't obey. I am trapped within myself, a prisoner of my own mind.

Time has lost all meaning. Days, nights, hours—they blend together into a continuous stream of nothingness. I try to remember how I got here, but the memories are hazy, slipping away like sand through my fingers. I search for a way out, a way back to the world I once knew, but the path eludes me.

I hear murmuring from my left side. The sound is more audible now, and the voice is deep and so incredibly familiar. It feels like it's the only voice I've been hearing for ages. There's a sense that I should recognize it, that it belongs to someone significant.

"Abia definitely misses you," the voice says. "She won't stop laying on your prayer mat and keeps meowing at me as if to ask where you are. I told you she was pretending not to like you."

The speaker chuckles, but the sound is wrong. It's not a chuckle filled with amusement; instead, it carries an undertone of pain and...ache?

"After I confessed to you about pining over you for years," he continues, "you never asked me why I pretended like I didn't know you. As if I hadn't imprinted you in my heart. The truth is, I didn't want to creep you out, even though I was already a bit of a creep, looking for you whenever I came over for holidays. And then, after dinner, you spoke to me. You genuinely seemed interested in getting to know me. At that moment, my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest. You wanted to know me. Right then and there, my naive heart started pounding with hope."

His words hang in the air, charged with emotion, and I can feel the depth of his confession settling into the silence that follows.

I wanted to speak. I wanted to respond. I wanted to shout out to this person. But I was paralyzed. I couldn't do anything, and I felt tears of frustration slide down the corners of my eyes.

Then, a flicker of light appeared in my mind.

It was as if I had been transported into another dimension, one filled with events. Were these past memories? It felt like I was reliving them.

.

I quickened my pace as I carried the assorted dates to the dining room. Hassan and I had prepared them together. They looked so delicious, and I couldn't wait to bite into them.

Hassan and I were observing the Sunnah fasts, and it was time to break the fast. If it wasn't already time, it was almost time.

"Baby!" I heard Hassan call out, ever impatient.

"I'm here, I'm here," I responded, walking into the room and sitting opposite him on the mat as he poured milk into jugs.

His phone alarm for Maghrib went off. We each grabbed a date and recited our Duas. As I was about to bite into mine, Hassan gave me a blank stare. Confused, I stared back at him as he glared at the date in my hand and gestured to his.

I chuckled as I moved closer to him. He held his date between us, and we bit into it together. Soon after, we drank the milk.

.

The sound of sobs brought me out of my sleep.

I cracked my eyes open in the dark, squinting at the ceiling as I tried to figure out where the sound was coming from.

"Ya Allah," a voice whispered, raw with pain, from across the room.

I looked to my side and found Hassan's side of the bed empty and cold. Panic seized me, and I abruptly sat up.

I turned toward the source of the noise. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw a figure hunched on the prayer mat we kept in the room, though we rarely used it.

It was Hassan. He was shaking as he remained in sujood. I immediately got up, turned on the bedside lamp, and walked over to sit beside him, waiting patiently.

I sat there for about two minutes, trying to hold back my own tears. No, I needed to be strong for him.

Hassan finally said his salams and, slightly turning away from me, wiped his face. The shame was evident in his movements. My heart ached for him.

I shifted closer, gently holding his arm, and pulled him to face me. He looked down at his lap, avoiding my gaze. I let him be, waiting patiently until he finally looked at me.

His eyelashes were heavy with tear droplets, and his eyes were filled with pain. Despite my efforts, my own tears began to fall.

I opened my arms in invitation, and he immediately sank into them, his body racking with sobs.

I held him tightly, my hands trembling as I tried to console him. I wanted to be his anchor, a source of strength, but I wasn't sure how successful I was.

"You're so strong... s-so strong, baby," I whispered, gently rubbing his back.

My words seemed to have the opposite effect, making him even more emotional as his sobs grew louder and more intense.

We stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in each other's embrace. Gradually, his sobs quieted down, turning into soft whimpers. Finally, we began to pull away from each other slowly.

As he lifted his head, I could see the raw pain in his eyes. His eyelashes were still wet with tears, and his face was a portrait of anguish. My own tears had left tracks on my cheeks, but I tried to offer a comforting smile.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"We'll get through this," I murmured softly, hoping my words would provide some solace. "Together."

He nodded slightly, his grip on my hand tightening.

.

"A race?" he asked, looking at me with amusement, his mouth twitching at the corners.

"What? Scared you'd lose to me?" I teased, already jogging lightly and stretching around him in circles.

Hassan chuckled at my words as he bent down to retie his laces, his eyes sparkling with playful challenge.

I looked around at the park, relieved to see it was almost deserted. Perfect.

"Ready?" I asked, and we stood poised at the starting line.

I called out the countdown, and the race began. We sprinted side by side, our laughter mingling with the sound of our footsteps. Halfway through, I tripped hitting the ground. Ouch.

Hassan noticed I wasn't running beside him anymore and turned around to see me sprawled on the ground.

"Man down, man down!" I shouted dramatically, trying to stifle my own laughter.

Hassan burst out into laughter himself as he turned back and attempted to lift me up. I playfully let myself go limp as if I had fainted, making it even harder for him to lift me due to his uncontrollable laughter.

After he finally managed to lift me up and help me brush off the dirt from my abaya, he pulled me closer. His fingers gently lifted my chin, and he smiled at me with pure contentment.

"God, I love you," he said softly, his eyes full of warmth.

I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I love you too," I replied, feeling the happiness of the moment wrap around us.

We stood there for a while, holding each other, the world around us fading into the background.

.

Hassan. My Hassan.

"I'm going home to take a shower now. I miss you as always. I love you, baby."

Wait. Don't go.

I tried to shout out, but my voice refused to cooperate. It was as if my words were trapped inside me, a desperate plea that couldn't break free.

Suddenly, a weight pressed down on my eyes, and a source of light filtered through my eyelids. My eyes began to quiver in response, and more tears slid down my cheeks.

My mind swam through a haze of emotions, struggling to make sense of the sensations around me. The light grew brighter, almost unbearably so, and the weight on my eyes intensified.

I heard the door close shut and with a sudden jolt, my eyes snapped open, and I found myself murmuring, "Hassan."

The room around me slowly came into focus. The unfamiliar surroundings of a room, dimly lit by the bedside lamp, brought a rush of reality crashing back. My heart pounded in my chest as I processed the remnants of my dream, the vividness of it lingering like a ghost in my mind.

How did I get here? I last remembered making dinner for Hassan and-

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

Subhana'Allah. Subhana'Allah. I fell.

On instinct, I cradled my stomach in a panic, my heart racing as fear gripped me. A wave of relief washed over me when I felt my baby moving, a reassuring flutter that calmed my nerves.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and attempted to sit up. As I did, a sharp pain shot through my back, causing me to wince and lie back down slowly. The discomfort was intense, and I realized I needed to be more careful.

Lying there, I focused on my breathing, allowing the pain to subside gradually. My thoughts drifted to the baby growing inside me. I gently rubbed my belly, feeling my baby respond to my touch.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to gather the strength to move again.I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on a vase of fresh flowers and I also saw a chair with Hassan's jacket strewn across it.

The ache in my chest deepened, a raw reminder of his absence. The dream had felt so real, so painfully real, and now the emptiness seemed even more intense. I missed him so much.

Gathering myself, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I knew I needed to find a way to bridge the gap between us, to feel his presence even when he wasn't physically there. His words echoed in my mind, a soothing balm to my aching heart.

"I love you," I whispered into the stillness, hoping somehow the sentiment would reach him wherever he was. I closed my eyes again, allowing the memory of his voice to comfort me, even as I yearned for his return.

The door opened just as I was about to close my eyes. I hastily looked over at the entrance and saw Hassan talking on the phone. He was rummaging through his pockets as he spoke, a look of concentration on his face.

"I'm on my way, Mom. I forgot my keys in my jacket. I'm back in Halimah's room now... Yes, alhamdulillah... She—" His words cut off abruptly as he glanced in my direction. He did a double take, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at me.

For a moment, Hassan stood frozen, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The silence stretched between us, filled with the weight of unspoken emotions.

"Hassan," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. A flood of feelings coursed through me all at once—sadness, relief, happiness, and a deep, overwhelming love.

"Nur," he breathed, his voice filled with a mix of astonishment and joy. He rushed toward me, and in an instant, we were in each other's arms, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go.

The embrace was filled with a multitude of emotions, our hearts beating in sync. Tears streamed down my face as I buried my head in his shoulder, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. He held me just as tightly, his hands gently stroking my back as if to reassure himself that I was really there.

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the world outside fading away. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of us, reunited and safe in each other's arms. Finally, I pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, which were brimming with tears.

"I was so worried," he said softly, his voice trembling. "I couldn't stand being away from you."

"I know," I replied, my voice equally shaky. "I missed you so much."

He cupped my face in his hands, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "You're here now, and that's all that matters. Alhamdulilah" he said, his voice full of relief.

We sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding hands, as we began to talk.

The weight of the past days lifted, replaced by the comforting presence of Hassan by my side.

We spoke for what felt like hours, though in reality it was only a few minutes. The conversation was a soothing balm, a mix of updates, reassurances, and quiet laughter that seemed to mend the emotional rifts caused by our separation. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the cocoon of our shared words and presence.

Suddenly, the door opened once again. A doctor walked in, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw me awake.

"Halimah? Hassan? Why wasn't I informed of this?" he asked, a note of incredulity in his voice.

I glanced at Hassan, who looked sheepish and embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his head in that endearing way he did when he was caught off guard. With a nervous smile, he reached forward to press the call button. His fumbling actions made me giggle, a sound that seemed to surprise even myself. The doctor, too, let out a chuckle at Hassan's endearing clumsiness.

"Better late than never, I suppose," the doctor said with a good-natured grin. He stepped closer to my bedside, his demeanor shifting to one of professional concern. "Nice to officially meet you, I am Doctor Ahmed. How are you feeling, Halimah? Any pain or discomfort?"

"Nice to meet you too sir. A bit of pain in my back, but I'm okay," I replied, feeling more at ease with each passing moment.

Dr Ahmed nodded, making a few notes on the clipboard he carried. "That's to be expected. You've been through quite an ordeal. We'll need to run a few tests to ensure everything is progressing as it should, but seeing you awake and alert is an excellent sign."

Hassan squeezed my hand reassuringly, his eyes never leaving mine. "She's a fighter," he said proudly, his voice filled with admiration.

He smiled, glancing between us. "Well, it seems like you have plenty of support here, Halimah. That's just as important as any medical treatment."

As he went about his checks, asking me various questions and examining my vitals, Hassan remained by my side, his presence a constant source of comfort. I answered the doctor's questions, feeling more confident with each response.

"Everything looks good so far," the doctor said finally. "I'll have the nurses come in to run a few more tests, and we'll monitor you closely. But for now, just focus on resting and recovering."

"Thank you, doctor," I said sincerely, grateful for his kind and reassuring manner.

He nodded and left the room, leaving Hassan and me alone once more. The atmosphere was lighter now, a shared sense of relief filling the space between us.

"You really scared me, you know," Hassan said softly, his fingers gently tracing the back of my hand. "But seeing you awake now, hearing your voice... It's everything."

"I'm sorry for worrying you," I replied, my voice equally soft. "But I'm here now, and we're going to be okay."

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, the connection between us stronger than ever. The trials of the past days seemed to fade away, replaced by the hope and promise of the future.

Hassan leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too," I whispered back, feeling the warmth of his love envelop me.

Hassan's phone rang, startling us both. He reached over to grab it from where it had been discarded at the foot of the bed.

"It's your mom," he said after glancing at the caller ID.

He answered the call, putting it on loudspeaker and bringing the phone closer to me. "Assalamu alaikum, Mom. Alhamdulillah, I'm good. I have someone who wants to speak to you."

From the other end, my mother's voice came through, filled with her characteristic blend of concern and warmth. "Hassan, who are you introducing to me? I want to hear updates on Halimah. Also, what do you want to eat for lunch? Those granola bars are poison and I have had enough of it."

I couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound of my mother's familiar complaints bringing a sense of normalcy to the room.

"Subhan'Allah! Hassan? Who was that?" my mother asked, her confusion evident.

I was about to respond when I heard sobs over the phone. My heart went out to my mom, and I felt a wave of emotion wash over me all over again.

"My baby is awake," she wailed, her voice breaking. "Salim! Your daughter is awake!" Her voice faded as she presumably went to find my father to share the news.

I heard faint shouts in the speaker as my mom relayed the news.

Hassan and I exchanged a look, his eyes mirroring the relief and joy I felt. "We've all been so worried," he said softly, squeezing my hand.

"I know," I replied, my voice choked with emotion. "I wish I could hug them right now."

"We'll get there In Shaa Allah ," he assured me, his voice steady and comforting. "One step at a time."

The phone call had brought a surge of emotions, but it also reminded me of the love and support that surrounded me.

As we waited for my mother to return to the phone, I leaned back against the pillows, feeling a renewed sense of hope. The road to recovery might be long, but with Allah by my side , Hassan and the support of our families, I knew I could face it.

Alhamdulilah always.

~

I know i say this about most of the chapters but I loved this chapter 😭💗

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