Was It Love?

1. The Start

Looking back now, it was a rollercoaster ride of emotions between me and Jamal. We used to look at each other with fondness and love.

I remember the first time he held my hand, I was quite reluctant to accept it but the butterflies and tingling sensations clouded my mind. I couldn't think straight. He was my first love or so I thought.

Khawlah introduced us to each other at our old students' association Qur'ān competition. He was on of the contestants and just like other sisters in the hall, I was literally blown away by his recitation. He was what girls called a "Mā shā Allāh brother." I was further convinced when he spoke to Khawlah, his sister. Both of them had the same striking brown eyes and fair skin.

"This is my friend Juwayrah. She is also one of the participants in the female category."

"As-salāmu'alaykum wa rahmatuLlāh, Sister Juwayrah. I am Jamal. I'm looking forward to your recitation." He said smiling.

I was tongue-tied and I stuttered as I replied his Taslīm. He must have noticed his effect on me as he smiled smugly, bringing his dimples into display. He was really handsome.
That wasn't the only things that attracted me, though. Khawlah later told me that while he was away from home, he was in a Tahfīdh school where he memorized the whole Qur'ān. Afterwards, he got accepted into the prestigious University of Ibadan where he was studying petroleum engineering. Once, we were discussing about our best Surah. I told him I loved Suratul Qiyāmah. He told me he loved Suratu Najm. " You know you can recite Surah an-Najm with different Riwāyāt and make it all the more melodious."

Such were our discussions. Initially, I wanted to keep my distance but I guessed it was two-sided. He would always call or text me. Don't ask how he got my number. We didn't meet up or talk privately. Just calls or messages.
It went on like that till I didn't receive his calls or messages for about a week. It was a week-long holiday from the extramural and I hadn't seen Khawlah either. She had previously been teasing me about me liking him and how I'd help her tick her bucket list of her best friend marrying her brother.
By the end of the sixth day, I was feeling like a part of me was missing. So, I summoned the courage and called his number. I had never done that before. He was always the caller. That night, he told me had been hospitalised.
I told my mum the next day that I was going to visit Khawlah because her brother was sick. She allowed me and even gave me some beverages to take along. We were already family friends, thanks to I and Khawlah's friendship.

When I got to his ward in the hospital, I saw he sitting on the bed, propped up by the pillow. His beauty hadn't faded but it was obvious he had been sick. I shyly walked up to his mum by the bedpost.

"As-salāmu'alaykum wa rahmatuLlāh wa barakātuhu, ma. E ku itọju. I hope he's feeling better now," I said, facing his mum.
I dared not look at him. Else, I'd make a fool of myself.

"JazzakumuLlāhu khayran, Juwayrah. How are your mum and siblings too?"

Yes. She didn't ask of my dad because he was late. He lost his life in a ghastly motor accident. Mum had been taking care of us since then.
Khawlah entered just then and I hugged her. She looked stressed and deprived of sleep. Her mum went out, saying something about getting some drugs from the pharmacy. I was fidgeting as Jamal looked up at me.

"Thanks for coming, Juwayrah. It means a lot to me."
"Hmm," I murmured. That was the closest I had been with him since I met him.