Stop being a prisoner of your past. Become the architect of your future."_Robin Sharma
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Husna trudged to her room, her legs heavy with the weight of her emotions. She collapsed onto the bed, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. Her eyes closed, and Abdulhameed's words echoed in her mind.
"Love?" she whispered, tasting the bitterness of the word on her tongue. Love... a concept she had sworn off after heartbreak, betrayal, and loss.
Her mind replayed memories she had tried to bury.. the nights she cried herself to sleep, the promises broken, the pain she'd endured. Her heart felt like shattered glass, each shard slicing deeper than the last. She couldn't trust anyone again. Not even him.
Her hand instinctively reached for the capsule on her nightstand. She popped the lid off and poured two..maybe three?....pills into her mouth. She didn't care. Counting didn't matter. She just wanted the numbness, the relief from the ache.
Rummaging under her pillow, she found another miniature bottle. Three more pills followed. Her body relaxed, the tight knot in her chest loosening as her mind quieted. Lying back, she stared at the ceiling, feeling stiff, her breathing shallow...but for the first time that day, she felt a sliver of peace.
Her mother approached, . "Husna, what's wrong? Did Abdulhameed say something to you?"
She pressed her lips together, avoiding her parents' gaze. She didn't want to revisit the painful memories. Why hadn't I noticed his feelings sooner? Faiza had warned her, countless times, but she had refused to listen.
Now, her parents' expectant eyes left her little choice. "He... he said he loves me," she admitted finally, voice barely above a whisper.
Her mother's expression turned stern. "Ko'a yecci mo?" ("And what did you tell him?")
Taking a deep breath, Husna replied, "Adda am komi yecca ta mo. Mi yecci mo kowoni bernde am." ("Oh no, Adda, what else would I tell him? I told him what's in my heart.")
Her father smiled faintly, but the expression quickly turned serious. "Husna... do you think that was right? The boy came all this way, yet you treated him like that?"
He paused, collecting his thoughts. "Just because someone hurt you in the past doesn't mean everyone will. You must learn to trust again. Whatever problems you face, rely on Allah, and keep moving forward. That's the best way to heal."
Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he continued, "Allah is the best planner. Every hardship is a test of your strength. If you persevere, you will succeed. Husna, everyone faces challenges. Have tawakkul trust in Allah."
He smiled warmly. "This Abdulhameed... he seems sensible, responsible. He has a job, a good heart. My instincts tell me he loves you sincerely. Why not give him a chance?"
Her mother added gently, "Don't forget to make istikharah, Husna...pray for guidance."
Husna nodded, unsure how to explain her own turmoil. She didn't want to hurt her parents, yet she couldn't shake the unease she felt around Abdulhameed.
Her mother stood. "Fatima, bring the kibiya (hair braiding tool). I'll help Husna loosen her hair. If you get married, you can't leave it like this," she said.
YOU ARE READING
HUSNA
RandomHusna Abdulhamid Wakili has always kept her heart under lock and key. Quiet, guarded, and content in her solitude, she never imagined a man could make her question the walls she's built until she meets Abdulhameed Aliyu Danbatta, a confident, charm...
