42. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒑𝒂

"Baby!" I called out, my eyes following Zayd as he darted ahead of us, his little legs moving faster than I was comfortable with. He was always full of energy, never stopping for even a moment to catch his breath. Hassan and I had known the "terrible twos" were coming, but no amount of advice or stories could have prepared us for the constant whirlwind that was Zayd. He was into everything, and I swear it was like he had springs in his shoes—always bouncing, always running.

Hassan, walking beside me, responded to my call with a casual, "Hmm?" He tilted his head toward me, but the one I was actually calling out to, the little human who was supposed to be listening, continued to chase after a squirrel as if he hadn't heard a word. Zayd was completely engrossed in his little adventure, oblivious to everything else around him.

We were at the park, enjoying a rare day out after months of being caught up in the busyness of life. It felt good to breathe in the fresh air, to be surrounded by the green expanse of trees and grass. It had been far too long since we had a day like this—just the three of us, outside, together.

I let out a laugh, the corners of my eyes crinkling as I glanced at Hassan. "I wasn't talking to you, grandpa," I teased, my voice light.

Hassan scoffed playfully at my jab, his arm snaking around my neck before I could react. With a mischievous grin, he ruffled my hijab, tugging at the carefully pinned fabric as I squirmed under his hold. "Hassan, stop!" I squealed, trying to wriggle free. "You know how long it takes me to get my veil the way I like it!"

But my protests only seemed to fuel his teasing as he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. I tried to push him away, laughing despite myself, when a small voice suddenly interrupted us from below.

"Mama, dada beat you?" Zayd's confused little voice rose up to us, tugging at my dress as he looked up with wide eyes. His innocent question cut through our playful banter, and immediately Hassan let go, standing back with a sheepish smile as we both looked down at our son.

"No, no, ya amar," I said, crouching down to meet Zayd's gaze. His tiny hand was still clutching my dress, his brows furrowed in concern. "Daddy's just playing with Mama." I reached out to smooth his hair, my tone soft and reassuring. "See? Everything's fine."

Hassan crouched down beside me, his voice gentle as he added, "I'd never hurt Mama, buddy. We were just having fun."

Zayd's face, still scrunched in that serious way he had when he was trying to figure things out, gradually softened. His big, curious eyes flitted between the two of us, taking in our smiles. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, processing this new information, but after a few moments, his cute little face brightened, and with a quick "Ok!", he took off again, this time chasing butterflies.

With my eyes still on Zayd, we walked over to the large oak tree we always seemed to gravitate toward whenever we visited this park. It was our little spot, nestled in the shade, offering the perfect view of the open field. Hassan began spreading the blanket across the grass, smoothing out the edges while I crouched down to unpack the picnic basket.

"I'll take care of the setup. Could you please go get him before he runs too far?" I asked, glancing at Hassan as I started arranging the light snacks I had prepared earlier in the afternoon. A simple spread of sandwiches, fruit, and a few treats for Zayd—nothing fancy, but enough to make the outing feel special.

Hassan nodded before heading off to retrieve our little explorer. I took in a deep breath of the fresh air and felt myself relax even further at the smell of nature and the calm breeze of the tree before continuing to spread the food. I had just finished setting everything up and sat down when I heard familiar giggles approaching from the distance.

I looked up to see Hassan walking toward me, Zayd perched high on his shoulders, laughing uncontrollably as his dad jostled him up and down in playful bounces. Hassan's hands were steady on Zayd's legs, making sure he was safe, but his teasing grin and exaggerated movements made Zayd's laughter grow louder with each step.

A warm smile spread across my face as I watched them. There was something about seeing them together that always tugged at my heart. Their faces were so similar—identical, even. Both with thick, dark hair that curled slightly at the ends, and the same features—Zayd's softer ofcourse.

Hassan caught my gaze as they got closer, his eyes sparkling with amusement and contentment . "Look what I caught," he teased, lifting Zayd slightly higher before setting him down gently onto the blanket beside me.

Zayd giggled, wrapping his tiny arms around Hassan's leg for a brief hug before diving into the snacks I had laid out.

I helped Zayd open the container of grapes he was struggling with, his small hands shaking it eagerly. Picking one up, I gently popped it into his mouth, watching as he chewed happily, his little face lighting up with satisfaction.

Just then, I heard a throat clear nearby. Glancing up, I saw Hassan sitting there , his arms crossed and a pout on his face. His eyes wide with mock sadness as he stared at me—no, at the grapes.

I raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze silently, waiting for him to say something. But instead, he just continued to look at me, then down at the grapes, and back at me again, making his point clear without a word.

I couldn't help but laugh softly at his antics. Shaking my head in amusement, I reached into the container and picked out the biggest grape I could find. With an exaggerated flourish, I held it up to him and gently fed it to him, just as I had done for Zayd moments earlier.

"There you go," I teased, "my other baby."

Hassan grinned as he chewed, "Much better," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction.

I couldn't help but pause for a moment, staring in awe at the man I was blessed to call my husband every single day. He really was my dream come true.

"I love you so much," I murmured softly, my heart swelling with affection as the words escaped me before I even realized.

Hassan's eyes widened slightly in surprise at my sudden declaration. His expression softened instantly.

Without hesitation, he leaned across the pile of snacks and placed a gentle peck on my forehead, his hand resting softly on my shoulder.

"I love you more than life itself, Nur," he replied tenderly, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he started planting playful kisses all over my niqab, his lips grazing the fabric in a way that made me laugh, but also made my heart swell.

"Mama, gwapes," Zaydwhined, tugging at my dress as he stared longingly at the container in front of us. His impatience broke through our bubble, snapping us back to reality.

Hassan and I both pulled away, laughter spilling from our lips as we exchanged amused glances. His smile was wide, his eyes twinkling with joy, and I knew mine mirrored his. As much as we cherished our quiet, intimate moments, the interruptions from Zayd were part of what made our life so beautifully chaotic.

I reached for the grapes and handed one to Zayd as Hassan continued to chuckle. In that moment, I looked around at the scene before me—my husband, my son, our little picnic beneath our favorite tree—and I knew I wouldn't have it any other way. This was the family Allah had blessed me with. It wasn't always easy, and there were certainly exhausting days, but it was perfect in its own way. This was my family, and I loved every second of it.

~

I realized i have been spelling zayd as zayad💀. If you see this mistake anymore, please lmk!

Vote and comment!

Jazzakallahu Khairan💕💕

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