Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 44 - You Always Push Me

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

***

Jannah's P.O.V

'I have one question.' I said after what felt like an eternity.

'What is it?' Muhammad returned.

'Did Aaliyah love you... like you had hoped?'

Muhammad beamed now, with an unmissable glimmer in his faded jade eyes. 'There was no other reason she would leave her home and come to the library. One glance for her, every afternoon, was enough.' The words fell from his mouth shyly. I was the only person that he could speak so openly about this to. 'When the news came to her that I was to marry Qamara, she supplicated to Allah, asking if she could marry me in Jannah (paradise). And look at the mercy of Allah, who did not permit her to leave this dunya (world) lest I was by her side. And given that I was her only husband, she will have me in Jannah. By the mercy of Allah.' He susurrated.

There was a lump in my throat as I fought back tears. I gulped with firm resolve. This wouldn't be easy. Dawud had a temper at times but I refused to be on the receiving end. There is no such thing as comfortable growth. Every time we are pushed in life to a better outcome, it is a challenge and test from Allah. And nothing good comes easy.

I had to repeat these affirmations in my head as I heard footsteps approach the apartment door. The key twisted inside the lock, filling the silent room with an unbelievable amount of tension. Dawud stepped in and said his Salam cheerfully, just as he did every evening. He was blocked by a wall and I wasn't able to see him but I knew that at that very moment, he realized my boots weren't the only ones on the shoe rack. They were his fathers.

Muhammad looked down, expectant of an outburst. His slumped shoulders paired well with his frail frame and it broke me. I wanted to protect his heart. It was so clear that he wasn't able to bear any more hurt.

I stood up and quickly rushed to the space between the door and shoe rack where my husband was hovering. As he came into view, a slight pang of dread filled my chest. His thick curls were cast downward, covering his bright eyes. His tall frame was frozen as he stared at those simple boots his father wore every year. I looked down at them. They were weighted and worn out with the effect of time and indifference. I hoped Dawud took note of that as well. I reached an arm out and made contact with this cold hand. 'Wa alaykum Salam Dawdie—'

Almost immediately, he brushed past me with a huff. I stood there, dumbfounded as he stomped into our bedroom. He slammed the door and groaned. I blinked a few times, surprised. 'Handle this like an adult Jannah.' I whispered, blinking repeatedly. Every time I was met with anger, I wanted to cry. But not today. There were greater things than my feelings at stake.

I closed the door and walked towards the bedroom. Muhammad stood up once he saw me and grabbed his wallet. 'I should probably leave.' He said, avoiding eye contact. I marched over to him and sat him down.

'You're his father. That is never going to change. Today is the day that you see the kindness you instilled in him reciprocated back to you. You obeyed yourself father's every last word until he left this Dunya, so why would Allah allow you to be mistreated?' I asked him firmly. To my surprise, he pulled me in for a hug. And it pulled at the strings of my heart.

'Thank you.' We both said to one another. We shared a small laugh. I sighed and walked towards the room, stopping when Muhammad called my name. 'The Prophet ﷺ said, "Should I not tell you what is better in degree than prayer, fasting, and charity?" The companions, said: "Yes." He, ﷺ said, "Reconciling people, for grudges and disputes are the razor (that shaves faith)." So thank you, Jannah. May Allah reward you.'

I smiled and walked towards our bedroom. I hoped for my reward with Allah.

* 

I closed the bedroom door behind me and looked up. Dawud was sitting on the edge of the bed away from me, with his back facing where I worriedly stood. I reached my arm out but quickly put it back to my side, remembering how he brushed past it only moments ago. His shoulders were slumped as he put his face in his hands. He murmured something under his breath.

'What?' I asked him after some time. He scoffed. I frowned.

'You always do this.' His voice, which I always knew to be sweet and soft to my ears was now harsh and accusing.

'Do what?' I asked, knowing exactly what he was talking about. He turned his body to face me immediately. His squinted eyes scanned my expression, knowing very well that I asked that question aware of the answer. Then he blinked, growing exasperated by the second. 'What is it that I always do?' I ordered again, pushing his buttons. I wasn't getting him angry out of spite. I knew exactly what he was trying to say but I needed him to communicate it. Communicate it to me. For once. I needed him to express how he felt. It would make it easier for me to get to the root of the problem. I can't speak to his soul if he kept it barred.

'You always push me.' He said after a long time. He was being careful with his words.

'How?' I asked sternly. Dawud tilted his head to the side, analyzing me now. I wanted to crumble under his sharp and piercing gaze.

'Are you kidding me? You know exactly what you did! And you know exactly what you're doing now!' He shouted, standing up.

I watched him cautiously. 'Don't yell at me Dawud. I'm your wife. That isn't how we communicate.' I warned.

'Jannah why is my father sitting in our living room?' He pressed, adjusting his voice immediately. 'Why would you invite him over? Why do you always put me in these situations? I'm not ready to speak to him! But whenever you see me standing there, hesitant and scared, you push me. You always push me. It's not fair.' He struggled to speak at a levelled tone. He was so hurt. He pulled at the hem of his sweater and wiped his face with it. I pressed my back against the door, reminding myself why I did all of this.

'It's because I love you.' I said to him. A part of me had to reassure myself as well. I had to battle the instinct of running over to him and hugging him tightly. His eyes brimmed with tears as he turned his face away. 'It's because I know when you need that push. I know how comfortable you are in hiding away the feelings you refuse to show. I know that you will avoid your father for as long as physically possible. For as long as you can't anymore. And I brought you two to the same place at the same time in hopes that you would be able to... for once in your life... face your problems head-on.' I blurted. I didn't mean to say that. But it was the painful truth.

Dawud frowned as he stood there. He looked like a pained child and it hurt my very core. 'I spent years wishing that Allah could bring my father back to me. I know exactly how you've been feeling. But I also know that your father just wishes that you could lend him your ear. Whether or not you forgive him is out of his control, and he knows that. But he was the man who changed your diaper, put food in your mouth and a roof over your head. He fulfilled all of his fatherly duties. A misunderstanding occurred and now you think that you can write him off for life?' I questioned him. I took a step towards him. 'Allah doesn't even allow you to say 'ouf' to your parents. He commands you to speak good words to them. And here you are, arguing with me because I'm pushing you to do exactly that.' I added softly, taking another step. 'It's because I love you, Dawdie. I know it's hard to see that now, because you feel hurt and betrayed. And I'm sorry that I've made you feel those feelings. But you will see very soon that your father loves you, and he never wanted to hurt you.' I took one last step and slid my fingers up his forearms. He shook under my touch. 'He didn't want to leave your mother. You have a completely wrong idea of him. I have never seen a man so full of love and kindness until I met you. And after speaking to your father I can see where you've taken those attributes from. Please extend that kindness back to your father. Because he has shown it to you more times in your life than you can remember.' I said, with inches separating the two of us. 'Go.' I told him softly. He looked at me with a softer gaze and I melted. I missed him.

'Okay.' He replied before disappeared into the hallway. I didn't see him again for another three hours. And when I did, he wore a smile on his face. 

*

Hadith Source 1: [Ahmad, Abu Dawood, and At-Tirmithi: good-authentic]