Out Of Wreckage?

Chapter Thirty Seven

My heart was heavy with all these emotions. Majorly with anger and gratitude because I couldn't keep a balance between those two.
I wanted to be mad but I just couldn't.

Hamza shouldn't have hired Aslam.
Atleast not for me but now when he did, I couldn't be more grateful to him.

It felt great yet weird when someone who's definitely not entitled to look after you does something so extraordinarily just for the sake of friendship.

Even when Hamza was away, he kept tabs on my well-being and whereabouts.

I wouldn't have known it if Nida hadn't told me anything yesterday.
On how he was in touch with her and how much he cared about us?

He knew that I would never share my issues with him so he befriended Nida.

I had asked him on the day when Aslam had invited him over.

Even on my insistence, he didn't let a word out of his mouth but Nida couldn't lie to me for this long.

Hamza could have taken anybody but a crippled man. He was just bearing my burden by giving a job to my husband.

Nobody would've hired him but he did so that my daughter and I don't land up hungry and on road.

He knew that a man like Aslam wouldn't have let me work outside so he did what was best for me. He kept my husband occupied with his work.

He visited us almost every weekend where he looked after every minute detail of the house which Aslam never bothered to.
He did everything for Bushra that Aslam was supposed to do.

At times, I thought to myself.
If I could've replaced him with my husband. I would have done it in the blink of an eye but he deserved much better than this person I had become.

It's wrong to even think about it.

A man like Hamza was a dream while I was a messed up reality.
Infact just by his mere presence, my life had transitioned.
If there's a silver lining in the clouds then he was the one in mine.

I wondered why a man like him has no personal motive?
What did he gain out of helping me?

I'm aware that he has always been a good man but that was also an understatement.
I felt extremely ashamed of myself to even question his intentions when he had been nothing but an angel to me and my daughter.
He always maintained distance.
He never crossed any lines between us yet he did it in a way that no one could question us.

My diary was overflowing with my musings that I needed him to hear me out.

After mustering a lot of courage, I called him to meet me at the park where Bushra always played after school.

It was the same park where we met here in Lucknow for the first time.

My hands were sweating profusely. I looked at my daughter who was on the swings, her beautiful laughter echoing in the whole park even between the noises that can be heard from the other kids who were playing around her. Just by listening to that lovely sound from her, I had forgotten all my worries.

"It's a delight to just be around her, isn't it?" My eyes immediately met his. He had his hands in his pockets.

I nodded.

"Assalam alaikum." I spoke.

"Walaikum assalam."

"Can we sit somewhere?" I asked him.

"Sure." He let me take the lead and we found an empty bench by the tree from where I could still see Bushra at a distance.

"How's work?" I asked him.

"It's hectic but I'm sure Rabia, you're not here to discuss work, are you?" He directly jumped on the point.

I cleared my throat. "You shouldn't have done this, Hamza."

"Rabia, please don't. I thought we were past that discussion. Your husband works for me. It's no big deal." He gritted his teeth.

"It's for me when you hired him out of pity for me. Why don't you see this is wrong? Hamza. Nida should have never told you about it." I palmed my face.

"She told you."

"Obviously she did. She can't lie to me but that's not the issue." I told him, exasperated.

"Yes, you're right. The real issue is that you never told me about him. The way he treats you and Bushra. I thought friends share everything then why did you hide it? Why didn't you tell me about your problems?" He looked hurt and disappointed.

I shook my head, "Because they were my problems and I didn't want you to be caught up in my mess. This was not your concern especially not when your life has just moved in a good direction. It was your dream to live a life like this."

"But what's the use when I can't share it with the person I love." He declared taking me off-guard.

What did he just say?

I was frozen to my spot.

His eyes drooped low.
He inhaled sharply.

"Rabia. I..." He stuttered before shutting his eyes again. Nevertheless he continued while I could hardly move.

"I'm sorry to feel this way but I can't help it. I've always been in love with you. Since the day we met, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I even wanted to propose you the day I brought you home but then my circumstances were not right back then and shortly, you got married. I tried but I could never see anyone except you. That's why I didn't marry at all." He spoke.

"So, you knew where I lived? You were following me."

"No. No. You're misunderstanding me. This is all fate. I never knew that you moved to Lucknow. That day when I saw you here, crying. I couldn't believe my luck." He had fisted his palms, "I would never do anything that you wouldn't like. You gotta believe me that my intentions are pure. I just want to see you happy. Our friendship is really important to me." His eyes pleaded me to believe him but I was so overwhelmed with him pouring out his feelings all of a sudden.

"I have to go." I managed to say and stood up. He was on his feet immediately.

"Rabia, I'm sorry but remember, I'll be there whenever you need me. I promise." He said with utmost sincerity.

"Bushra! Come on. Let's go home." I called out and Bushra ran towards us.

"Uncle Hamza, Assalam alaikum!" She politely greeted him.

"Walaikum assalam." Hamza replied with a smile.

"Let's go." I grabbed her hand and left hastily. As I walked away, I could feel his eyes on us till we left the park.

He didn't follow us.

It felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

Why Allah?
Why was I put to test every single time?

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Hello everyone!

I hope you like this update.
What do you think of Hamza's confession.

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Until next time.

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