Zahra's POV
It's been a month since Yasir and I agreed to reject the proposal. It was mutual. He's been very understanding lately, which honestly amazes me I never thought he had that in him.
Maybe, just maybe, he never really approved of the whole marriage thing either. I'm grateful that I'm getting less aggressive toward him now.
It's also been a year since Mama passed. So much has changed. Heartbreak. Grief. Silence. I don't want to admit it, but losing her has made me rethink everything. Even my decisions about Yasir. Not because I want it to work but because I just don't know who I am anymore.
I used to be happy. Now I feel like someone else. Just another girl carrying too much. I thought I could handle everything, but I get weaker by the day. All I want now... is anything but Yasir.
Samira and Amir called using their teacher's phone. I miss them so much. Just hearing their voices made me feel whole again. They're growing, learning, maturing. I could tell. I always wanted the best for them—may Allah protect them and increase their knowledge.
I've also started going to the madrasa now—on Jamal's suggestion. He thought Madarasatul Luqman was better than the one I used to attend. And maybe it is, but now I regret it. Thanks to Jamal, I can't avoid Yasir anymore.
He said the boys only come on Fridays, but yesterday he mentioned they'll be joining Quranic classes too. "One day isn't enough," he said. And now Baraka and Jamila are planning to come as well. At least the classes are gender-separated, so I can stay out of sight... until it's time to go home.
"Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh. Till next week, in shaa Allah. And don't forget your assignments," Ustaz Zakaria said.
"Waalaikumsalam warahmatullahi wabarakatuh," we all replied together.
Some classmates packed up and left. I waited with Baraka and Jamila for the adhan. After ablution, we prayed Asr, did our tasbihs and takbirs, and then headed home.
It was a quiet 30-minute drive. Once home, I showered and set my alarm an hour and a half nap. I needed it. Today drained me.
Jamal's POV
"We're downstairs waiting for you," I called Zahra. I had to drop her home before my night shift.
I started working at Yasir's dad's company. I never wanted to work and go to school at the same time—it always felt like too much. But the offer was good, double salary monthly. Who says no to that?
Dad has his own local factory, but I'm not into his line of work. He lets me make my own choices. I respect that. He never tried to live my life for me.
I greeted the boys and headed to the car. Zahra, Jamila, and Baraka were waiting.
"Sorry I'm late," I rushed to open the car.
"Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi, ladies. Hope your lectures were fine."
"Waalaikumsalam warahmatullahi wabarakatuh. Yeah, Alhamdulillah," Zahra said.
"Yeah, Alhamdulillah," the others echoed.
"Let's go," I said, one hand on the wheel, the other brushing through my beard.
The ride was peaceful, but not quiet. Zahra and Jamila wouldn't stop chatting. Baraka only responded when necessary. She's avoiding me. But that's okay I've moved on. She's married. What happened... happened. It's time to let go.
Baraka's POV
I thought I moved on. I didn't.
Everyone lied to me. Even Zahra said he still loved me. But it's a lie. I lie to myself daily.
Why am I still holding on? Why do I give my heart to someone who doesn't care? I don't even know anymore.
Rrrring.
My phone rang. I jumped up, picked it without looking at the ID.
"Assalamualaikum... hello," I said.
"Waalaikumsalam. Are you crying?" Zahra. Of course.
"Not really," I whispered. I couldn't lie to her.
"Are you okay? Can we meet? I need to return your book—you left it in the car."
"No, it's too late. Just keep it till next week. My brother has the car."
"Girl, don't worry. I'll bring it myself. Jamal will drop me."
"No! Please don't come with him..." I cracked. Then hung up.
Headlights flickered into my room. My phone rang again.
"Come down please. I've got your book," Zahra said, then hung up.
I had no choice. I put on my jilbab, grabbed the keys, and stepped out.
Zahra stood by the car. Jamal stayed inside. I walked slowly toward her.
She handed me the book, then hugged me tightly.
I broke.
Tears spilled. I buried my head in her chest so Jamal wouldn't see.
But Zahra pulled back in frustration and stormed to the car. She yanked the door open and pulled Jamal out.
He saw me. Crying.
"Why are you doing this?!" he asked, stunned.
"You two need to talk," Zahra snapped.
"What?" Jamal blinked.
"Now!" she whisper-shouted.
"I've got nothing to say to her," he said, leaning on the car.
"You'll have something when I take your keys," Zahra snapped, snatching them.
Now we were stuck me, Zahra, and Jamal standing in the cold, angry and silent.
"Zahra! You're not helping," I screamed.
"You're hurting me more, Phatimah," she yelled back.
Jamal laughed bitterly.
"Innocent, huh?" he muttered.
I inhaled deeply.
"Guilty, right?" he pressed.
"Just say something!" he yelled. "Let's end this right now!"
I dropped the book.
"I have no words for you, Jamal!" I cried.
"What, you scared?!" he stepped closer.
I laughed bitterly, stepped forward, and fell. I caught myself.
"You asked for this, didn't you?"
"You want me to say I was foolish for loving you? For waiting sixteen years?"
His fists clenched.
"That wasn't love! Do you even know what love is?" he snapped.
"Please don't hurt me, Jamal. Spare me. Please."
My head pounded.
"You know you can't love me. So why won't you let me be?" I whispered.
"Baraka, listen to me," he said gently. "At least tell me the truth. Why him? Why not me? I waited for you."
He leaned on the car, sobbing.
"Why?" he repeated.
"Who is 'him'? I don't understand," I said.
"I never loved anyone but you. Even when you hurt me. Why me, Baraka?"
"If you loved me... why did you get married?" he shouted.
I collapsed.
Everything faded.
✍️khadija uthman(Haddy Nyang)
YOU ARE READING
married at 16: Scars that bloomed into strength.
General FictionHe married her out of pity. She married him to please her parents. Will they ever grow to love each other-or is this just another story that ends in separation?
