41. 𝑯𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒏, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒔, 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖?

Hassan's pov

He looked up at me, his messy curls scattered across his small forehead, eyes brimming with tears, and his mouth quivering as I gently pried my phone from his tiny hands. I could see the impending tantrum brewing, so I quickly handed the phone back, desperate to avoid it.

Instantly, his face lit up with a bright smile, his tiny teeth on display, and I sank back onto the couch, defeated. My phone had been ringing non-stop for the last two minutes, but Zayd was determined to keep it in his possession.

"Z, I need to answer this call, fisabillilah," I pleaded, hoping he'd let me take it without a fight.

My two year old shook his curls defiantly, and in his usual stubborn way, said his new favorite word: "No!" The way he said it was almost cute, but the situation was far from amusing.

With a sigh, I stood up, mentally surrendering, and went in search of the only person who could possibly help me. It was 4 PM, and Halimah had been in the kitchen for hours, preparing Iftaar.

We were halfway through the holy month of Ramadan, a period observed by Muslims worldwide, where we fast from dawn until sunset. Ramadan, the ninth month in the Islamic (Hijri) calendar, is one of the holiest times for us. It's a blessed month where sins are forgiven, and the rewards for good deeds are amplified. Every year, I feel blessed to witness it again.

Today, we had invited over Ayesha and Saleem, Sam and Maria – the usual crew. Halimah had started cooking earlier than normal to make sure everything was ready on time. I'd usually be in the kitchen helping her, but Zayad needed supervision in the living room, and Halimah insisted I stay with him so she could focus on the food.

"Baby," I groaned as I entered the kitchen, dramatically flopping against the counter. She was busy seasoning a large bowl of chicken, her gloved fingers expertly mixing the spices. I watched as she dipped a finger in, tasted it, and promptly spat it out into the sink. The first time she did this during Ramadan, I nearly had a heart attack, thinking she'd broken her fast. But she quickly explained that tasting food doesn't invalidate the fast as long as none of it is swallowed, a rule that had taken me some time to get used to.

"Na'am?" she responded absentmindedly, still focused on covering the bowl of chicken in cling film. She removed her gloves and finally turned to face me.

"Zayd won't give me my phone back, and it's been ringing for the past five minutes!" I whined, stepping in front of her to stop her from moving past me. Instead, I pulled her into a hug, resting my chin on her head.

"Hassan, he's two," she said flatly, staring up at me like I was stating the obvious. "Just take it from him and distract him with something else."

"I tried, but he starts tearing up. You know how that goes."

"Did you try giving him his iPad? Or a snack?"

I blinked down at her, realizing how easily she could solve this, and how little I'd tried. Zayd really had me wrapped around his little finger, and it was showing. Sheepishly, I admitted, "No... I didn't."

She laughed softly, pushing me away with a playful smile. "Babe, I have so much to do. Let me go before I get behind schedule " Her laughter continued as I kissed her face repeatedly, covering her beautiful features in affection.

"Fine, I'll go. But only because I hear my phone ringing again," I relented, dropping my arms from her waist and retreating back to the living room.

When I returned, I found my phone discarded on the floor, and to my surprise, Zayd was now engrossed in the toys I'd initially tried to use as a distraction. I picked up my phone, dusting it off, and quickly checked the missed calls. I dialed back the most recent one, and after just a few rings, it was answered.

"See, bro? That's the right way to answer a phone" Sam's voice came through the speaker, teasing me.

"Yeah, well, Z wouldn't let me take it."

Sam laughed loudly. "First it was Halimah, now it's Zayd. You're wrapped around their fingers, man. Pathetic."

I grinned, rolling my eyes. "Like you're any better. Didn't you almost cry when Maria ignored your calls last week?"

"Alright, alright. No need to bring that up." He laughed, quickly changing the subject. "Hey, I called to see if it's okay for us to come over now. Maria's ready, and I wanted to check in with you."

"Yeah, come on over," I replied.

"Great. Honey, we can head out!" he shouted to Maria before speaking to me. "Alright, see you soon, man."

"In Shaa Allah," I replied, and the line went dead after he repeated the same.

Next, I called Saleem, whose call I had also missed. It took longer for him to answer because it was after about ten rings that he finally picked up, his voice a breathy whisper. "Assalamu alaikum, brother."

"Wa alaikum salam. Are you okay? You sound like someone's chasing you," I asked, my brow furrowing at his strange tone.

He let out a small chuckle. "Oh, no. Ayesha and I are playing hide-and-seek, and I'm hiding from her."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Of course you are. But you called earlier?"

"Yeah, I—" His sentence was cut short by a loud voice in the background.

"Found you! You're it!" Ayesha shouted, followed by the sound of scrambling.

I could hear Saleem's shocked yelp as he tried to escape, the phone rustling as it changed hands. Then, Ayesha's voice came through. "Who answers a call during hide-and-seek? Is that Hassan? Let me talk to him!"

"Hassan!" she finally said. "How are you?"

"Good, alhamdulillah. And you?"

"Good. We're freshening up and heading over soon. Let bestie know, alright?"

"Will do. See you soon, In Shaa Allah."

"In Shaa Allah!" she chirped, and the line went silent.

I couldn't help but smile at the people who had become such a big part of our lives. The six of us had grown close, always at each other's houses or planning trips together. These friends had become like family to me, a gift from Allah.

"Baby!" I called out to Halimah. "The gang's coming over soon!" I grabbed a marker that had mysteriously found it's way into Zayad's hands before he could put it in his mouth, shaking my head as I prepared for the evening ahead.

~

I found myself staring at her, completely lost in the way she threw her head back, laughing at something they were talking about on the other side of the room. Her laughter was pure, infectious. She looked so radiant, and even after all this time, I still couldn't quite believe she was mine.

"Hey, loverboy. Mind giving the rest of us some attention too?" Saleem's voice broke through my reverie as he nudged my shoulder, pulling me back to reality.

I blinked, realizing I'd been staring too long. Both Saleem and Sam were chuckling as I awkwardly cleared my throat, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

"You were saying?" I asked, attempting to change the conversation.

"Sam here claims he can still do a backflip, and I need you to help me convince him he's completely lost it," Saleem said, shaking his head in disbelief.

I couldn't help but laugh, which only earned me a glare from Sam as he stood up and began stretching his arms, clearly intent on proving us wrong. My laughter only grew as I watched his determination.

"Alright then, let's settle this," Sam said, cutting me off before I could protest further. He was already walking towards the door, his mind made up.

"Bro—" I tried again, but he waved me off.

"Nope, we're doing this." His voice was firm, and I realized there was no stopping him now.

Saleem and I exchanged amused glances, both of us shaking our heads as we stood up and followed Sam outside. The ladies looked on, utterly confused by what was unfolding but too amused to intervene.

By the time we made it to the backyard, we found Sam already stretching further, preparing for his grand performance. The sight of him bending and contorting, trying to limber up like he was about to compete in the Olympics, sent me into another fit of laughter. I could barely hold it in at this point.

"Sam?" I heard Maria call from behind me, her voice filled with amusement as she tried to stifle a laugh.

"This will be over quickly, baby," Sam responded confidently, without even turning to look at her.

"Sam, we were just messing with you, man," Saleem chimed in, trying to stop what was clearly about to be a disaster.

But Sam was already in the zone, completely ignoring us. He positioned himself, feet firmly planted on the ground, and started visibly counting down in his head. Saleem and I exchanged wary glances as we held our breath, bracing ourselves for what was about to happen.

Sam took a deep breath, and whispered-shouted bismillah and bent his knees, and launched himself into the air. For a split second, there was a glimmer of hope—maybe, just maybe, he'd pull it off. But that moment passed quickly. He barely stayed airborne for five seconds before crashing back down, landing flat on his back with a loud groan.

We all winced at the sound, and the backyard fell silent for a second before laughter erupted around him.

Mariam was shaking with laughter as she hurried over to him. She knelt beside him, trying to hold back her laugh as she asked, "Are you... okay?" barely managing to get the words out between her laughter.

I approached Sam, extending my hand to help him up, still grinning from the scene. He grabbed my hand, wincing slightly but smiling despite himself.

Saleem moved behind Sam, positioning himself to assist as we slowly lifted him to his feet. Together, we got him upright, both of us chuckling at the spectacle he had just made of himself.

"Piece of advice," I said, patting him on the back, "maybe stick to sitting in your sofa and talk to people about their feelings instead of flipping."

"You think you're so funny, huh?" Sam said, wincing as he shifted on the couch.

"No, man, you are," I shot back with a grin.

"You were supposed to lead us in prayer. How are you going to do that when you can't even stand straight?" Saleem asked, just as our phones went off, signaling that the Isha prayer was approaching.

Sam glanced at us, clearly still in pain. "You two will have to figure that out on your own now."

We eased him onto the couch, and I turned to saleem. "I'll do it."

Ever the stubborn one, he shook his head. "No, it's fine. I will."

Ignoring his protest, I pulled out my phone and quickly messaged Halimah.

Me: baby, can you help me find my gray socks upstairs, please?

My Heart: aren't you wearing socks right now?

Me: baby *crying emoji*

My Heart: Okay, okay *laughing emoji*

Me: i'm coming over now.

"Alright, cool, I'm gonna go freshen up," I said to the guys as I headed towards where the ladies were sitting. Halimah stood up just as I approached them, and I slid my hand into hers, gently pulling her out of the room. We started walking side by side towards our room.

As we reached the hallway, Halimah glanced at me suspiciously. "Hassan, you don't actually need my help finding your socks, do you?"

I smiled, falling a step behind her, and wrapped my arms around her from the back, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I just missed my wife, that's all," I murmured, swaying us gently from side to side.

She giggled softly and we stood there, just holding onto each other, soaking in the quiet warmth of being together. We stood there for minutes before we were interrupted.

"Get down here, you two! We're going to start praying without you. My husband's already standing in place!" Ayesha hollered from downstairs, her voice carrying easily since we hadn't bothered to close the door.

"We're coming!" I shouted back, trying to sound convincing.

"No, you're not, because if you were, we'd hear you guys moving!" Sam's voice chimed in, and I could just picture the smug look on his face.

I couldn't resist. "You talk a-lot for someone who can't even jump properly" I shot back.

The house erupted in laughter once more, everyone remembering Sam's earlier attempt at acrobatics.

"Low blow, Low blow!" He shouted over the sounds of laughter.

~

Had fun writing this 😂

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