Her Red Scarf [Muslim love story]

The Finale

As you read, this IS the final chapter. more in the end.

***

My lip is quivering as I walk up to the front door.

Not only because the only company I have is faint streetlights, and the chant of crickets but because I may have ruined everything by giving up too soon.

And, because this is my home. I feel tremors in my limbs on the way up to the front porch. My steps are soundless on the concrete. This house has held so many beautiful memories for us. We've had so any firsts here, together. Our first night. Our first cooking session. Our first pillow fort.

This was my past, my present and future.

Until now.

As I enter the code on the padlock, I pray that he hasn't changed it. The click it makes a few seconds after it unlocks is the best sound I've heard in my entire life.

A look into the house tells me nothing has changed much. I creep up the stairs to the master bedroom, praying that he's still asleep. Rafiq is a very light sleeper. Sometimes he'd wake up from a nap to the sound of me dropping something in the kitchen, or a knock on the door. It would always freak me out.

At the door, I take a deep breath and turn the doorknob slowly. When I see his figure under the covers, my lips curl into a smile. He's still asleep.

I make my way to his side, but when I pull the covers out, pillows. Immediately, my heart starts hammering. Why is there pillows? Where did he go? And what, or I should say who, is he trying to hide from?

I jump at the voice and whip my head in its direction. Rafiq is standing right behind the door, a broom in his hand. A light sleeper, indeed.

"Good to know you'd make a terrible thief." He sets the broom on his right and crosses his arms, still as a rock. "What are you doing here?" Great.

I let out a breath and get closer to him to switch on the lights. "We have to go somewhere."

He lays there unmoving, then his brows furrow as he thinks of something.

"Did you come all the way here alone? What if something happened to you? It's the middle of the night!"

I shake my head. "I'm fine, though am I not?"

Then I remember how he usually reacts when I say that. Most of the time, it's not anger at you. It's anger on your behalf. It hurts to care.

I speak before he can retort. "I'm sorry. That was dangerous. I'll be more careful next time."

Rafiq tilts his head, and looks at me, like he's wondering who I am. To be honest, I'm not too sure either.

"But—there's a surprise. And you need to be quicker than that, or we'll miss it."

"Why?" his eyes narrow, and he switches his stance to the other foot. He is guarded, and I don't blame him. I've hurt him, he's hurt me, we've gone our separate ways. What am I doing here?

But... I think I've figured out. And I need to try one last time.

"I need another chance. I think I get it."

His eyes, his brown eyes that used to look at me with mischief and affection, look at me steadily. His eyes travel down my body, skeptical.

"Get what?"

I give him a look that says will you really make me say it here?

He ignores it and lets out a breath. "I can't do games, Ihsan. I'm—" he passes a hand on his face, and I notice his eye bags, and flaky skin. Terrible sleep over the last few days, I guess.