married at 16: Scars that bloomed into strength.

Episode 21 "Of silent struggles and spoken hearts"

The Edge of Mercy

Khalid's POV

They don't understand what I'm going through. You can't judge a book by its cover. You have to open it, read it, and understand it. That's what I always tell my brother. He thinks love fades easily, like in those short-lived crushes. But love is hard. It's a struggle. It has reasons. So how can it just disappear in a second?

Maybe I've been lying to myself. I thought the love I had for Zahra was enough for both of us and for the world to approve of our relationship. But I was wrong. She has to feel the same. Still, giving up on her feels even harder. I want to be sure she doesn't like me before I let her go.

"How's the hurdle, man?" Hasan asked, shaking my hand.
"All good. What's up?" I asked as he dropped his laptop bag and sat down.
"Nothing much... but bro, you messed up." He cut straight to the point.
"What?" I said, unbothered.
"Did you really fight Yasir yesterday?"
"Yeah, why? I went to resolve an issue to claim what's mine," I replied honestly.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked seriously. I nodded. He scooted his chair closer and held my hand.
"Listen, Khalid. You should be better than this."

That stung.

"You see, I may be younger than you, but it feels like I see the world differently. You stooped too low. Anyone can act out in anger. Just trust Allah. What's meant for you will always come."

"Bro, you'll never understand unless you walk in my shoes. Halal effort matters. It shows you really want what you're asking for. That's all I'm doing trying."
"Stop fooling yourself. Fighting, crying, hurting yourself is that love? Is this even halal?" he asked, banging his hand on the table. I stayed silent, eyes on the floor.
"As your younger brother, you're shaping my idea of love. And this? This isn't what I want love to look like."

He picked up his bag.
"Please, consider the advice. We don't hate you. Take care." He tapped my shoulder and walked out.
"I heard you," I muttered.

Baraka's POV

"Mom, I'm going out. I'll be back by 8, in shaa Allah!" I yelled.
"Okay baby, may Allah be with you," she called back.

I locked the door and headed to the main road to find a taxi. My brother had taken the car to the park with his son. He often does that so the little one doesn't think too much about his mom's death. He wants to be both mom and dad. I'm proud of him. We all love our little munchkin.

It was Sunday, so traffic was light. I arrived in under 20 minutes. I was tired from everything that had happened between Jamal and me, but that wasn't an excuse not to visit Zahra especially now that her wedding was around the corner.

Tring Tring I pressed the doorbell.

"I'm coming!" someone yelled.
It was Abdul Hamid.

"Hey Baraka," he said, opening the door.
"Asalamu Alaikum," I greeted with a wide smile.
"Wa Alaikum Salam. Come in," he welcomed me.
"How's Zahra and the kids?" I asked as I entered.
"They're still at madarasa. Zahra's probably upstairs."

I climbed the stairs and tripped on my abaya. Thankfully, I was holding the railing. I groaned.

I didn't realize Jamal saw everything. He stood at the top of the stairs. Maybe he was going down, but stopped just to let me pass.

"Hold onto the railing tighter next time," he teased with a smile.
"Huh?" I said, annoyed.
He walked past me, hand over his mouth to hide his laughter.

Zahra's Room

"May I?" I asked at the door. Zahra nodded.

"JAMSIN!" I shouted dramatically, throwing myself on the bed beside Jamila. They both laughed.