Hidden bonds of love

46.

In the stillness of the night, Maryam found herself seated in the quiet confines of her room, her gaze fixed upon the pen resting upon her table. With a deep breath, she began to pour her thoughts onto the paper.

"I find it truly comforting to have someone in your life who not only recognizes your sensitivity but also knows how to handle your emotions with patience and care. It's a soothing feeling to be able to reveal your vulnerability to someone and trust that they will respond with empathy and consideration.

Ahmad, he was more than a brother to me; he was my confidant, my anchor, my everything. Life often keeps us so absorbed that we forget the inevitable reality of our mortality. If only I had known that Ahmad would leave us in such a way, without a chance for a proper conversation, I would never have run away from him. I would have stayed by his side, cherished our moments, and even married him before his untimely departure.

His passing feels unjust, like he didn't deserve such a fate. I yearned to repay him for all the kindness he showed me, but now, those aspirations remain unfulfilled, for he is no longer with us. The joyful memories we once shared as siblings are now just fragments of the past. Oh, how I wish we could have had more time to create even more cherished memories together.

If you're fortunate enough to have someone in your life who cares deeply for you, who loves you unconditionally, and who stands by you through thick and thin, never take their presence for granted. When making life-altering decisions, always consider their feelings and their place in your life. Don't wait until it's too late, as I did, to realize the value of their presence and wish you had done more for them.

Remember, there is still time to repay the kindness and love they've shown you. Don't wait until it's too late to express your gratitude and reciprocate their unwavering support."

"My beloved Yaya Ahmad, your sudden departure has left an unexpected void in my heart. I've been burdened with the feeling that somehow your passing is connected to me. You will forever hold a special place in my heart, and my prayers will always be dedicated to you.

I pray that we may reunite in Jannah."

With teary eyes, she gazed at her heartfelt words, wiping away the tears that cascaded down her cheeks. Slowly, she closed her journal, seeking solace in her bed as her tears continued to flow, eventually lulling her into slumber.

After completing her morning prayers, she ventured into Alamin's room, but he was nowhere to be found. She presumed he hadn't returned from the mosque yet and settled herself on the room's sofa, eventually drifting off into an unexpected nap.

Alamin returned from the mosque and noticed his daughter peacefully asleep, though her pallid complexion concerned him. Hours later, she stirred awake, and as she gently opened her eyes, she saw her father, engrossed in his laptop.

Sensing that something troubled his daughter, he shifted his attention from the screen. "You're awake, my beautiful daughter," he warmly greeted.

"Ina kwana, Dad," she replied, sitting up on the sofa and tucking her legs beneath her.

"Morning, dear. Kin tashi lfy?" he inquired, and she nodded.

Removing his eyeglasses, he turned his full attention to her. "It seems like you didn't get much sleep last night," he observed, concern etched in his voice.

Maryam's gaze shifted briefly to her father as he approached, and then she lowered her head, fixating her attention on the duvet that enveloped her. Silence hung in the room, and she remained reticent, saying nothing.

Concern etched on his face, Alamin inquired, "What's troubling you?" He closed the distance, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, facing her.

"It's nothing, Dad," she responded, her fingers restlessly intertwining. She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I just miss Ahmad, and I can't help but feel guilty about how abruptly he left us. It doesn't seem fair, and I regret not handling things differently back then."

Alamin sighed softly and offered comforting words, "We've discussed this before, my dear. It wasn't your fault. You may have made mistakes, but what's more important is the lessons you've learned from them."

She nodded, resembling a shy child, her quiet demeanor eliciting a smile from Alamin. There was a sense of hesitation in her presence.

"I have a feeling this isn't just about Ahmad; it's about something else too. Is there someone special in your life?" he asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

Maryam was taken aback, unable to meet his gaze, but she maintained a façade of composure. "Dad, I'm still just a teenager, right?" she replied, her expression pensive.

Alamin chuckled at her response. "Dad, I'm serious, stop laughing at me."

"Very soon, you'll be turning 18, just a few weeks away. My daughter is growing up," Alamin teased, affectionately patting her cheek.

Maryam playfully blushed at his words, feeling a warmth in their interaction.

Clearing her throat, she hugged the nearby pillow and shared, "Dad, we're planning a big surprise for our friend Najiba at the Halal restaurant."

"Wow! That upscale restaurant in Abuja, owned by that young girl," Alamin remarked.

(If you've read my first book, 'The Real Me,' you'll be familiar with Jannah and the Halal restaurant. Do check it out if you haven't read it yet.)

Their conversation continued, flowing effortlessly until it was time for breakfast.