It wasn't meant to be ✔️

Chapter 33

-3 months later-

I watched the sun set, making its way to rest before another day started.

The sky was now a beautiful pink bidding the sun goodbye until morning.

I looked to the ground and stared at the rose-petal covered lump of mud, which my daughter was buried under.

My daughter. My child that I failed so badly that I couldn't even bring her into this world. She didn't even take a breath nor did she ever cry. I brought her into this world dead.

Dead.

The day I was longing for water my api came into my room and first passed my the glass. Before telling me the heart wrenching news. The loss of my baby girl.

They gave her to me, she was wrapped in a pure white blanket. And looked exactly like the beautiful baby from my dream. The only difference was I couldn't see her eyes. Her eyes would forever stay closed. They would never open.

Never.

For these past 3 months. I lost my daughter and my will to live.

When they took her from me, for her burial. I became hysterical. I would scream tell them that she was alive, try to convince myself that she was alive. But she wasn't. She wasn't ever alive. She died in my womb.

I killed her. I failed as a mother. I couldn't even deliver her into this one told properly.

But maybe she wasn't mean to live. I didn't want her to ever go through what I had been through. I didn't want her innocent soul to be crushed by the darkness of this world. Just like I had been..

Maybe it had been better that Allah took her back to him. She won't have to suffer.

And In sha Allah one day. One day I will be reunited with her in Jannah. One day.
In sha Allah.

I get up and make a quick dua for both her and my dad who's grave is right next to her.

Maybe it'll help my little girl if her nana is next to her.

I also made dua for Kaneez, who helped me during my darkest times. And walked towards my home. My empty home. My childless home. My parentless home.

My empty home which screams loneliness in every dark corner.

But I had to go didn't I?

There was no other place for me.

I walk through the park as it starts getting darker. And think to myself.

If life had gone differently would I have been a different person? Would I have been arrogant? Would I have been naive? Would I have been ignorant?

But I didn't want to be any of those things. I wanted to be myself. Ayla Khan. Scarred, bruised, broken but somewhat strong. She somehow fought through all her trials, her challenges, her tests. And now she's stood here, strong and tall. Head up high and finally at peace.

She was at peace. She accepted everything that Allah had thrown at her because she finally realised that he loves her more than anything. He wouldn't dare to hurt, because he loves her more than 40 mothers.

Ayla. The meek girl, who went from the obedient wife of Ismail Hussain. To a strong woman who had built an empire without any support. Walking home. Hoping she'd be blessed with Allah's mercy and be given something to fill the emptiness in heart and her life.

She could only hope and pray.

All of a sudden, her chest tightens, her vision blurs and breathing fluctuates.

She doesn't know what to do.

Then her body becomes limp. She collapses on the floor and as her vision slightly clears there she sees it. A rose.

But not just any rose. A dark pink rose, one that looked exactly like the one Ismail had given her on their nikah.

Ismail.

Ismail Hussain.

She reminded herself of the memories that were associated with that name. The good, the bad and then the good again.

She loved yet hated that man with her whole being. But why? What was the point?

What was the point hating him? He had shown me so much love but then so much hate.

I remembered the good times with a smile and a laugh and then the bad times with a tear and a sob.

But then I realised. I don't care whether he hurt me or loved me. I forgive him. He did what he did, so why should I hold a grudge against him for my whole life.

"Ismail, I forgive you." I whispered to the winds.

"I forgive everyone and anyone who wronged me." I just wanted a painless death.

And then I thought to myself:
Maybe it wasn't meant to be...
This life, that marriage, that love.

Maybe I was never meant to get my happily ever after.

Maybe I was meant to live and die alone.

Maybe the nikah of Ismail and I wasn't supposed to happen.....yet it did.

It happened and we both paid the price, because of the ill intentions that it happened under.

He wanted revenge and I wanted solace. Solace which I could only find in Allah. And in this mess I ended up drifting away from Him.

Maybe Ismail and I should never united in such a pure relationship with such ill intentions, this was just a result of our actions.

Maybe it really wasn't meant to be...

My chest tightens even more. My vision blurs completely.

And I realise, it's now my time.

"I'm coming, Ammi, Abbu. I'm coming to you." I say with tears in my eyes.

"I'm finally going to meet you my baby girl." I smile.

She closed her eyes and murmured her shahadah.

And that was the end of Ayla Khan. Who lost her and found it again. He overcame every challenge with a smile. Who realised that only Allah would be there for you.

Her body laid there until morning, found by an elderly couple who were out for their post-Fajr walk.

And that was the day Ayla Khan was pronounced dead to the world.

Her Creator had brought her back to Him, her time was up in this world but she had spent it wisely.

To him we belong, to him we shall return.

******

Be honest, who cried? 🙋‍♀️
Cause I did.
Please don't come after me for doing this.
But yh.