A silent cry

45

Abbas

My eyes follow after their love of them.

"Enough Abbas, that's inappropriate in front of the kids"
What kids, the boy is already married. He looks fully grown to me. He and I went to the masjid at fajr and when he recited Quran next to some guys, he had an amazing voice with great tajweed. I was afraid because I thought maybe he was more focused on thriving in this world than the next. I can see now he cares about his hereafter too. it's sad that I wasn't there to help raise him, I want to build a connection with him but I don't want him to think I'm pushing myself in his life.

I look at my stepdaughter and she helps Hadiya prepare the food. I'm glad Hadiya wasn't alone during all this time. I had thought of so many things she would do to keep herself company but I never imagined she would be raising our son. Alhamduillah . I have a son!!! And he's got his mother's curls and my eyes. I feel really stupid for the scene I made when I got here. I pushed the boy so hard to the floor because I was so terrified to think Hadiya left me. After 13 whole years of coming back here, I feel like the world moved on and I was left behind. All I had to come back to was my Hadiya. If she had moved on, I don't know what I would do. I don't want to think about what I would do. I don't want to think about the whole thing happening.

at the masjid, everyone from the divided groups approaches me after the prayer and we talk about life and how the war continued. not really much talk about the war itself, we lost more lives and it took longer than I had anticipated. I never imagined it would take 13 years. they tell me how my son resembles me and how they've seen him multitasking. they seem to know more about him than me.

when I'm about to leave Maud and Osman approach me. they were in my division. we've seen each other at our lowest. I never let any of my other comrades see me in such a way. these weren't comrades they were more like brothers. age taught me that not every man is like my father. Osman now walks with crutches and Maud jokes around about everything. Everything but Osman's broken leg because we both know how it happened. we both remember the screams and cries from the war. alhamdilhua for everything.

Ali walks towards us

"great. all that was missing was his face to ruin our good time"

"What good time? there's no good when your around"Osman retorts

"ur just jealous,"

Osman rolls his eyes.

"Aslam alkium wa rhamta Allah"

"walkium al-salam wa rhamta Allah" we all reply

"good thing ur back, at least now you can keep ur son in check," he says as arrogant as a person can possibly be. he stands straight with an ugly smirk over his punchable face. I feel like smacking it off.

"what's wrong with my son?" I asked cutting to the point, some men all they love to do is gossip

"you don't know yet?" he says pissing me off even more. I shake my head and gave him a deadly stare

"He was a harami in the neighborhood and a lot of talk was going on about him and that girl, it's a good thing they got married. I don't think any boy would have married her otherwise"

I look at him in disbelief. I don't like him, he doesn't like me. I have no reason to believe him. not only is he accusing my son of being a harami but also of haram relationships. I look him up and down with the deadliest stare I have. I feel him get uncomfortable under my stare.

"it was good seeing you. I have to leave" he says uncomfortably trying to pass through me, Osman, and maud. they stand straight blocking his path and he goes around instead. they don't bring it up after he left but I know they want to.

maud leaves and Osmon walks closer to me. he places his palm over my shoulder "be easy on the boy, at least you have a son" he says before leaving. it calms me down a little. he's right I don't know if what that idiot said is even true.

****

I try not to glare over dinner. I observe the conversation instead. I look over at Hadiya who seems to adore both Jabil and Marwa. I wonder if Hadiya knows anything. I sit close to her on the sofra and brush my hand against hers whenever I get the chance. She tries to pass jabil the roti and I brush my hand against hers again. she blushes and removes it quickly every time. she hasn't changed at all. she managed pretty well without me, I want to ask her but I also don't want to ruin the mood. I just got here and I love seeing her smile.

Jabil doesn't seem to show much interest in Marwa. the girl looks at him from time to time but he doesn't notice. if they really had a haram relationship shouldn't he be over the roof now for marrying her? something is off.

when my Hadiya leaves to the kitchen with marwa, I see Jabil whisper something to Marwa but she resists what he says. he rolls his sleeves up, I think he might be trying to do the dishes instead of her. she shakes her head adamantly and he glares at her with his hands crossed over his chest. he lowers his head which demonstrates he lost I'm guessing. they are interesting. he doesn't look like a harami or one to be interested in haram relationships.

Marwa heads to the kitchen and he sits on the sofa, he opens the Quran reading until Marwa was finished and they both leave whispering about something I couldn't hear. either way, at least they left. I look for my Hadiya and see her preparing tea. I sneak up behind her when she places the tea down I lift her up and she shrieks.

"shhhh" I warn her

"mom are you okay?" Jabil yells from the room and I can hear footsteps nearing. she punches my chest to put her down and I shake my head and whisper "tell him you are"

"I'm fine Jabeeee-" I tickle her and she tries to hold her laugh, slapping me.
"I just saw a bug. abbas will kill it"abbas? I call her my sun, my qamar, my Hadiya, my honey and she calls me abbas.

"that's all you can call me?" I spin her around and throw her on the sofa.

"stop, stop, stop," she says quickly and quietly. "this is so embarrassing Abbas what if one of the kids come" she was like this too before there were kids I don't know why it matters now.

"your right I have a better idea," I said picking up a blanket up and throwing it over her, and taking her to the roof. like old times. she hides her face and I could see it turn red beneath the gaps of her fingers. I go down and bring the tea and we both sit and drink. she asks me to recite Quran like I used to. I pull her closer to my hug and I read two ayahs and her two. I kiss her forehead when we finish. this is exactly what I wished to come back to. so much of my life is a wish to be in her arms, to be near her. if I could give my soul to her I would. she doesn't know why I love her, I never told her how much I admired her when she would make sure to fill buckets of water just so when I come home I wouldn't shower in cold water. she doesn't know how much it meant to me when she would play with my hair after a hard day. when she patiently hugged me knowing there was something wrong but I couldnt bring myself to talk about it.

After the loss of my mother, I had never been more lonely. I dreamt of a house whose walls speak of love, whose furniture radiates warmth. I dreamt of a home. I dreamt of kids and now I have two. a tear glides down my face and I wipe it before she can see it. she looks up at me and places a kiss on the spot of my tear. It's what she always does, she kisses my wounds without knowing it.