Halaal Love

Chapter 49

Assalamualikum! How are you? Belated RAMADHAN MUBARAK! Hehe. How's Ramadhan going on so far? I hope it's well and may your deeds be accepted as well as your prayers!

I'm sorry for the super duper late update! I've been busy with some things :D Read another note at the end, okieee XD

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Habibah's POV

Three months have passed since the news. Alhamdulillah, Allah has allowed me to be able to keep this fetus inside for almost nine months now. Even though the days are filled with sorrows and hardships, at the end, delivering the baby is my goal right now.

I have temporarily quit my job-whether I will join back or not, it depends whether I will survive the labour or not.

Omar, his family and mine are very supportive. Our moms often visit me whilst Omar is at work. Omar has forbade me to clean the house extremely, like I used to. He's now in charge of vacuuming, washing the dishes and doing laundry jobs. All I have to do is to cook and clean the bed only. It sounds alright, but with the pain that strikes once in a while, sometimes it's hard.

However, today Omar has brought sandwhich for dinner and as usual, he does his chores first before eating.

"Omar, want me to help you?" I question. Seeing him wear an apron and gloves just to wash the dishes make me stifle a laugh. "There's no point for an apron and gloves. Seriously, it's not like we're Hollywood celebrities!"

"Well I'm still wearing my suit and it has been used for a day only, so I'm not going to make this wet or stained," he replies with his gaze focused on the dishes. I laugh.

I place my palms on top of his cheeks, squish his face and kiss his left cheek. "Thank you so much for being the best husband!"

"Hmm," he nods, washes the last plate and ends his chored by throwing the apron and the gloves on the table. I can't help but smile at him. He's been trying hard these few months and I hope Allah will help him to be patient in doing these chores.

After praying Salat-ul-Isha, we devour the heavenly taste of Antakya's sandwhich. We fight for the last piece-which definitly belongs to me.

We watch some lectures on Omar's phone regarding parenting and my heart feels so heavy. Will there even be a chance for me to become a mom?

Unnoticeably, my eyes begin to water and tears roll down my cheeks. I swiftly wipe them away, but somehow it feels so hard to hold back my tears. Hence, I let my tears flow but hide my face behind my long sleeves.

"Hey, hey." Omar takes my hands away and pulls me towards him. I end up crying on his shoulders. "It'll be fine. Be sure."

I sob, " I can't. . . Everytime I feel the pain, all I can think of is how longer can I survive? Will I be able to hear the baby's cry? Will I be able to hold the baby in my hands and see a smile?"

Omar raises his hands and places them on my hair, slowly soothing my back as tears still stream by my face. I know that he doesn't know how to soothe me too.

"Why should we have different blood? It's not fair." I sob louder. "I want to be like other couples too. I want to be able to relax during my pregnancy, deliver the baby and then raise it. I want to be a mom. . ."

Omar pulls back, grips my shoulders and stares into my eyes. "You saying that, is the same thing as saying why should you be married to me-" I open my mouth to protest but he continues, "You know, you're not the only who's scared and disappointed. I'm scared too. 'Why should you marry me and suffer?' Such thought has passed through my mind. I thought that I'm just not right for you-but this is fate. No one wants a sad ending, but Allah is the best planner, isn't He? Maybe there's something good that awaits us. Who knows?