CHAPTER TWENTY - INTO HER DARK CLOSET

603 54 4
                                        

Assalaam'alaykum. So I promised and I am delivering. This quick update is dedicated to all of you who helped us reach 1K reads. Thank you Soon much. JazakumuLlaahu Khairan.

Now we still have a chapter to Conclude this celebration, and it will be dropped tomorrow, In Shaa Allah.

Don't forget to like, comment, vote, share and of course recommend your friends to read from us.

JazakumuLlaahu Khairan.🌹💐🌷🌺🌹💐🌷🌺🌹💐🌷🌺

Ahmad

I sat opposite Amanah with the food before
us. After Mrs Fatimah and Hannah arrived, we decided to settle for just yam balls and ketchup. It was the most modest meal I could think of.

Now, we were at the garden on the mat with our dish and fresh ginger drink from the freezer.

But Amanah was picking on her food and I knew it was still the thoughts from earlier that had her appetite diminished.

I had simply held on to her as she wept like she had lost a loved one. Afterwards, we had showered together. I had told her to let go of the idea of a picnic, but she had insisted we just had a simple dinner at the garden instead. Now she was playing with the meal absent-mindedly.

She surprised me. No. more than surprise me, she astounded me. I knew I had found a woman who feared Allah. A woman who remembered Allah more often than average. But every time, she did something new that shocked me. It was as though her every action told me that I had no idea what it felt like to be Allah-conscious.

To think anyone would weep over playing with flour. I hadn't seen it as a big deal. Well, until she began to weep.

But beyond the flour incidence was a history that had her in tears. I knew she had her history. Something that dragged her behind that cloaked unattached expression.

I was ready to listen. I needed to listen to her story. It was the last barrier between us, and I knew it would be a huge step to break through.

But she wasn't ready. And I was ready to wait.

"I am sorry I am boring you out." She said at last, tossing her Yam from one end of the plate to another with her fork.

"I mean, It's weekend, I dragged you from an important meeting and then... I am..."

"Are you not going to have something?" I interrupted her apology train.

"I... I... will have it later, In Shaa Allah." She answered passively, dropping her cutlery.

Of course she would. I took my seat by her side and picked her cutleries. It was time to have our actual second spoon feeding. First being the night we arrived the house.

She did not reject my feeding her, but she did not look at me either. I knew it was all out of respect and shyness for me, so I did not push it. I pushed several pieces from the balls of the yams into her mouth and she just ate them all in silence.

When she couldn't have anymore, I gave her the drink and she took it, again in silence. But when I made to return to my seat opposite her, she held me by the arm.

"I am not the only one who did not touch their foods." She reprimanded me softly.

She wasn't wrong. I had been so engrossed with her that I didn't realize I was doing the same thing I accused her of.

She picked the same cutlery I had fed her with a while ago and replicated my exact earlier actions. She fed me. It was a Sunnah i could get used to. It was a Sunnah I did not want to stop.

MARREDWhere stories live. Discover now