When Dreams meet Destiny

Chapter 13 : Healing Hearts

It's been four days since their heated confrontation, and the silence between Maryam and Yahya had weighed heavily on both of them. Maryam had spent those days reflecting on the argument, the doubts that had consumed her, and the hurt she had caused. She realized now that she had been wrong—Yahya's intentions were sincere, and her insecurities had clouded her judgment. The more she thought about it, the more regret gnawed at her. Yahya, too, had been deeply affected by their fight, but instead of letting it fester, he resolved to prove to Maryam that she was the only one who had ever occupied his heart.

Maryam lay in bed, her body wracked with fever. The warmth of the blankets did little to counteract the chill that had settled into her bones. She had been unwell for days, her usual vibrancy subdued by the relentless virus that had taken hold. Despite the fever, her mind was constantly replaying the last conversation she had with Yahya, filled with regret and a longing to make things right.

Yahya, engrossed in work in Kalyan, had only recently learned of Maryam's condition through her sister, Sara. Concerned and eager to offer support—and to begin mending the rift between them—Yahya decided to visit her. With a bouquet of flowers and a secret gift bag in hand, he drove his Range Rover to Maryam's family home. The large, brown gates opened to reveal her brother, who greeted him with a mixture of surprise and warmth. Yahya parked and approached the house, unsure of the proper etiquette. He asked Sara to deliver his gifts and message, preferring to remain outside to avoid intruding.

However, Maryam's father and uncle, both known for their traditional values, insisted that Yahya come inside. They welcomed him into their living room, where he found himself seated with Maryam's father, brother, and uncle. The air was thick with a mixture of formality and concern, and Yahya felt the weight of the situation settle over him, but he was determined to show Maryam that his love for her was genuine.

Meanwhile, Sara entered Maryam's room, the soft murmur of her footsteps barely disturbing the quiet. She handed Maryam the flowers and the gift bag from Yahya, urging her to open it after they left.

"Yahya bhai sent these for you," Sara said, placing the bouquet on the bedside table. "He was really worried when he found out you were sick."

Maryam looked at the flowers, her heart heavy with emotion. "Did he...did he say anything else?" she asked hesitantly.

Sara smiled gently. "He just asked how you were doing and wanted to make sure you were comfortable. He even brought chocolates and a gift. You should open it later."

Just as Maryam was beginning to relax, there was a knock on the door. Sara opened it to reveal Yahya standing there, flanked by her uncle and other family members. The room fell silent, and Yahya's cheerful "Salam" broke the quiet, filling the space with an unexpected warmth.

"Wa alaykumu as-salam," Maryam responded quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yahya took a seat beside Maryam's bed, his gaze meeting hers with a gentle smile. His appearance, though unexpected, was a source of comfort. Maryam's nerves were palpable as she lay there, the heat from her fever mingling with the flustered heat in her cheeks. Her cousins, sitting quietly in the room, observed the interaction with curiosity.

Clearing his throat, Yahya looked at Maryam with concern. "Khairiyat?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a note of genuine care.

Maryam, feeling the weight of his gaze and the silence that enveloped the room, responded in a barely audible tone. "Alhumdulillah," she managed to say, the words a faint whisper amidst the quiet. But behind her words, there was a silent plea for forgiveness, a hope that Yahya would understand how sorry she was for doubting him.

The atmosphere in the room was laden with a mix of anticipation and care. Yahya's presence, though unexpected, was a comforting reminder that despite the formalities and conditions surrounding their relationship, the genuine concern and connection between them were real. As Maryam looked at him, she felt a sense of reassurance, knowing that even in the midst of her illness, she was not alone.

After Yahya and Sara had left, the house slowly settled back into its usual rhythm, but Maryam's thoughts were still swirling with the recent visit. Her fever had left her feeling weak and disoriented, but the presence of Yahya had been a comforting surprise. Now alone in her room, she turned her attention to the gift bag that Yahya had left behind.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside, she found a soft hoodie—a personal touch that made her heart skip a beat. It was not just any hoodie; it was one of Yahya's, the scent of his signature perfume still lingering on the fabric. Alongside it, there were chocolates and biscuits, each carefully chosen for their familiarity and comfort.

A small note lay nestled among the items, written in Yahya's neat script. The message was simple yet profound: "I hope this will keep you warm."

Maryam's eyes welled with tears as she read the note. The thoughtfulness behind the gift touched her deeply. She had never expected such a personal gesture, especially not while she was feeling so vulnerable. The hoodie, with its comforting scent and warm fabric, felt like a tangible embrace from Yahya, a clear sign that despite everything, he was there for her.

After Yahya left, Maryam couldn't shake the guilt that had settled in her heart. She knew she had been wrong, and it weighed heavily on her. With everyone still around, she couldn't bring herself to apologize directly. As soon as she was alone, she picked up her phone and typed out a message, her fingers trembling slightly as she hit send: "I'm sorry."

The message was simple, but it carried the weight of her regret and the realization that she had misunderstood him. Within moments, her phone buzzed with a reply. It was Yahya: "No need to apologize. We're in this together."

Maryam hesitated for a moment before typing, "I know I was wrong, and I'm really sorry for doubting you."

Yahya's response was quick and reassuring. "It's okay, Maryam. I understand why you felt that way. But believe me, you're the only one in my heart."

Maryam's heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in them clear. "I just... I got scared. I didn't know how to handle everything."

"I know," Yahya replied. "But we'll work through it. Just trust me, okay?"

"I will," Maryam promised, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Get well soon," Yahya added, "And wear that hoodie when you're feeling better. It's meant to keep you warm."

Maryam smiled to herself, her heart finally at ease. "Thank you, Yahya. For everything."

"Always," Yahya replied simply.

As she put her phone down, Maryam felt a sense of peace wash over her. The misunderstanding had been cleared, and with it, the tension that had been gnawing at her. She wrapped the hoodie around herself, the warmth and scent of Yahya bringing her comfort as she drifted off to sleep, her heart lighter than it had been in days.