HER CRUSH

Chapter61

Zarah..,
The whole house was bursting with joy. Drums, laughter, the smell of fried puff-puff...Ummi's marriage being restored had turned the atmosphere into a celebration. But inside me, there was only fear. My chest felt like it was caving in with every breath.

I had sat quietly on the prayer mat after Zuhr, trying to keep my tears from spilling. People assumed it was joy for Ummi. They didn't know the truth...that Abdul was fighting for his life in a cold hospital room.

My phone vibrated against my lap. I glanced at the screen: Sufyan. My heart plummeted. I excused myself quickly, slipping outside.

"Hello?" My voice shook.

"Zarah..." his voice cracked, low and heavy. "Things are bad. Critical. Come now."

"Subhanallah." The phone nearly slipped from my fingers. I didn't even answer him again; I just hailed a cab and rushed off.

The ride was a blur of honking danfos and traffic lights. I kept whispering "Ya Allah, ka kare  shi. Ya Allah, please."

When I got to the hospital, I froze. Through the glass, Abdul lay motionless, machines breathing for him. His face was pale, lips cracked. It was like watching the life drain out of him.

My knees buckled. "No... no, Allah, not like this." I slid to the floor, sobbing.

Sufyan came forward, catching my shoulders. His usually sharp clothes were rumpled, his tie hanging loose. "Zarah, please. Be strong."

I shook my head furiously. "I can't! I can't watch him like this. He promised me....he promised me he'd be fine."

Sufyan clenched his jaw, pacing. "He stopped taking his medication. Wallahi, I begged him. Maybe it was the stress, maybe the marriage issues... I don't know." His voice cracked, and he slammed his palm lightly against the wall.

At that moment, Abba arrived with Ya Sadeeq. The authority in Abba's voice filled the corridor. "This hospital isn't enough. We're transferring him out."

"Abba, he's too weak.....I started, but my words got swallowed by tears.

Ya Sadeeq stepped closer, his voice calm but heavy.
This looks like more than relapse. There are other signs. Neurological signs. We can't risk waiting."

Abba's face hardened. "Call Ummi. She must know."
Minutes later, Ummi swept in, gele still perched elegantly from the ceremony. Her eyes found Abdul through the glass and her whole body faltered. "Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un," she whispered, hand over her mouth. Tears broke her composure instantly.

"Why didn't anyone tell me? Fatima! You knew?" Her voice trembled.

I wiped my tears quickly, guilt flooding me. "He made me promise... he didn't want you worried on your nikah day."

Her tears fell harder. "Nikah day? What is marriage compared to my son's life?" She turned to Abba. "Transfer him now. I'll call Dr. Yusuf."

The corridors turned frantic. Nurses pushing a stretcher, Ummi on the phone barking instructions, Abba giving orders. I my  hands just to stay upright.

At the new hospital, the air was thick with antiseptic and dread. We waited in the family lounge, every tick of the wall clock louder than my heartbeat.

Finally, a neurologist stepped out, his expression grave. "He's stable, but... the scans show abnormalities. This isn't just relapse. He has developed schizophrenia."

The word echoed, brutal.

Ummi gasped audibly, covering her face. "Schizophrenia? No... no, it can't be. Not my Abdullah."