Accepted With Flaws

- Love's Tender Awakening -

[Who say], "Our Lord, let not our hearts deviate after You have guided us and grant us from Yourself mercy. Indeed, You are the Bestower.
( Surah Aal-e-Imran 3:8 )

Luth's PoV

"I'm so sorry, Luth," she whispered through her tears, her voice laced with empathy.

"Hey, Zawj, it's alright," I murmured, using the endearment we had recently adopted. Her presence was soothing, and her understanding touched a chord deep within me.

Omaiza's next words caught me off guard, and they felt so soothing to my wounded soul. "I didn't know you had to go through so much alone at that young age... I'm so proud of who you are today, Luth."

Her words hung in the air, I released her from our embrace, and our eyes met. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked if she could see the tattoos once more. Hesitantly, I nodded, allowing her to explore the inked stories on my skin. Her fingers traced the lines on my ribs and shoulders gently, and I could feel the warmth of her touch seeping through the ink.

"If your younger self saw you now," she began softly, "he would also be proud of you."

Her words touched my heart, and I couldn't help but hold her hand against my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment and the overwhelming emotions that washed over me. A single tear escaped my closed lids, and Omaiza's thumb brushed it away gently.

With her head resting on my shoulder, I felt an unprecedented sense of peace. It brought to mind a verse from the Quran, "And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquillity in them; and He placed between you affection and mercy." Indeed, that's what I found in her.

Turning to face Omaiza, I offered a warm smile. "Is there anything else on your mind, Luth?" she inquired, her genuine curiosity evident.

I brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and asked, "Aren't you feeling tired, Zawj?"

Her eyes sparkled with vitality as she replied, "Not at all, do I appear fatigued?" Her posture became poised, as if she were a diligent student awaiting a teacher's inspection.

I couldn't help but smile at her unwavering enthusiasm as I excused myself momentarily to retrieve my laptop. Patiently, Omaiza waited, her legs tucked beneath the quilt on her bed.

When I returned with my laptop, her curiosity piqued. As I opened my old emails, she attentively read through each message sent by Nylaa. Her changing expressions during this process left me wondering about the emotions stirring within her.

Then, she reached the final note, and her reaction was profound. Omaiza gasped audibly, her hands instinctively covering her mouth in shock. After a moment, she closed the MacBook, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse, knowing that my laptop had unexpectedly become a source of distress.

Concern laced her voice as she asked, "Nylaa?"

I hastened to reassure her, my tone earnest, "I didn't know anything, Omaiza, Wallahi. I'm shocked too. This is what I was going through on the plane."

She quickly clarified, "No, no, you've misunderstood. I'm asking if you knew her personally."

With a nod and a softened expression, I began to recount my vague memories. "It was years ago, and the details are hazy. I recall that when I distanced myself from Ammar and others, she was there. She was Ammar's cousin, I think, and occasionally hung out with us. One day, she confessed that she liked me, but I brushed it off. I laughed it away because, at that time, I was 22, and she was just 17 or around, I believe."

With furrowed brows, she probed further, her worry evident in her voice, "And... do you think this is some kind of prank, Lut?"

I could only offer an honest response, my own concerns bubbling up, "To be honest, I don't know either." We both shared a moment of mutual uncertainty, contemplating the mysterious presence of Nylaa in my past.

Sensing her deep in thought about Nylaa, I gently called her closer, "Hey, Zawj." As she moved nearer, I wrapped my arms around her, finding comfort in her presence. With my back against the headrest, I continued, "Whatever it was, it belongs to my past. Let's place our trust in Allah." I meant every word I spoke.

"Indeed," I continued, "We can't keep dwelling on our pasts, but I genuinely feel relieved after talking to you." I gazed into her eyes, seeing a profound sincerity that put my heart at ease.

Her response was filled with resolve, "You're right... I'm just... I don't know." She trailed off, her thoughts drifting, before concluding with a heartfelt, "Alhamdulillah. You can count on me from now on, Lut, InshaAllah." Her fingers traced the old scar on my collarbone, and as I closed my eyes, I could feel the warmth of her presence and the peace that washed over us. Omaiza eventually drifted off to sleep, nestled against my chest.

I could feel her hot rhythmic breath against my chest, a soothing and comforting presence. I didn't want to disturb her; it felt just right. After our nikkah, this was the first time we were sleeping together, though it happened unintentionally. But it felt good, almost like a blessing.

Wrapped in the serenity of the moment, I couldn't help but reflect on the path that had led us here. Life had taken unexpected turns, but now, having her beside me, I felt a sense of completeness and security that I had never experienced before.

I held her gently, my protective instincts surging.

As I closed my eyes, I whispered a silent prayer, "Ya Allah, make our journey together easy and filled with love and understanding." With that, I surrendered to the calmness of the night, grateful for the new chapter unfolding in our lives.