Mrs Ahmed Shehu

15

SURAIYA

There's a sort of lightness following me around like a cloud when I wake up for Tahajjud after what I consider a nap because it was too short to call sleep.

I have a place to stay for the break so I don't have to move out to a shortlet and spend money. And then there's the fact that Ahmed listened to me open up about myself and he did so sincerely. No one is going to tell me otherwise. He was attentive and his reactions? They were the best and they made sharing stuff about me lighter.

When the Fajr notification goes off, there's a soft knock on my door and then "Suraiya?"

Well, that's a first. I get off the prayer mat, adjust my hijab and cross the length of the room. Once the door's unlocked, I pull it open. Ahmed's on the other side and he gives me a small smile which is easy to return.

"Good morning." He says. "I hope you slept well."

I nod. "I did. It was nothing long but Alhamdulillah. I hope you slept well too."

"Yeah, I did. I'll be going back in a bit though."

A small laugh bubbles out of me. "Me too...Do you want something?"

He gets nervous and that's another first. I won't lie and say this side of him isn't refreshingly cute because it is. Oh Dieu! He clears his throat softly. "I was hoping we could pray Fajr together."

Excusez-moi, monsieur?! (Excuse me, sir?!)

"I know we never really pray together when the kids aren't in and we're the only ones at home but it's not too late to change that, right?"

Oh wow. I nod slowly. "Well...I guess."

"Have you prayed already?"

"Nope."

He grins. "Perfect. I'll wait for you in the living room. Let's pray there."

I nod slowly again, still trying to catch up with everything. "Okay."

"Bring your Qur'an too, please."

"Okay."

Praying with him, alone, is a new experience but it's nice. When we're both done supplicating, he turns on his mat to face me and it's crazy how both our Qur'ans are bookmarked on the very same page. I'm just a verse ahead of him and he catches up in a minute. We recite together; my voice way lower than his is. Just like the prayer, it's nice. What's going on this morning?

We don't move until a juz is complete and I'm still in a bit of disbelief as I close my Qur'an. I look at him. "Ahmed?"

"Hmm?"

"What's going on?"

He puts his closed Qur'an aside. "What do you mean?"

"You're being extremely..." I find the word that fits. "Nice this morning."

"Am I ever not nice?"

"No, that's not what I mean. This morning just feels a bit different, that's all."

He rolls his shoulders. "Probably because we're the only ones here. This is our routine, Suraiya, but the kids aren't here this time so..."

When he puts it that way, he does have a point. "True."

"If it makes you feel better, it feels different to me too."

"Really?"

He nods without hesitation. "Really. I mean that in a good way, Suraiya."

I believe him. I do it wholeheartedly. "Thank you."

"Thank you for opening up to me yesterday."

I look down at my Qur'an and mindlessly trace the edges with a finger. "Thank you for listening."