UNENDING

Epilogue

-AL-QASIM-

I burst through the front door, barely registering anything as I race up the stairs. The meeting with the investors had dragged on far longer than I'd anticipated, and now I was scrambling to make up for lost time. My heart pounded as I headed straight for the bedroom, hoping to find Asiya before she got too upset.

When I pushed open the door to the walk-in closet, I found her standing in front of the mirror, struggling with a dress. Her movements were tense, and she glanced at me with a look that spoke volumes. I approached her, my hand reaching out, but she flinched and stepped away, a silent rebuke that cut deep.

"I'm so sorry," I began, my voice earnest and filled with regret. "I didn't mean to be late. I was held up by some investors, but that's no excuse."

She turned to face me, her eyes sharp and unyielding. "Do you know where you were supposed to be this afternoon?" Her tone was steady, almost cold. "Our daughter was looking for you in the crowd. Everyone else's dad was there, ready to present their child with their superlative award, and you weren't."

My heart sank at her words. I knew how important these moments were for Noor, and I hated that I'd let her down. "I'm really sorry," I said again, my voice breaking slightly. "Work just—"

"No, Al-Qasim," she cut me off, her gaze intense. "Is your work more important than our child? She needed you, and you weren't there."

"No," I replied quickly, my tone desperate. "Of course not. I promise, I'll never miss an event again. I swear."

Asiya's eyes softened just a fraction, but her expression remained resolute. "I need you to go and apologize to Noor. She's the one who matters the most right now."

I nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. "I will," I said, and without another word, I walked to Noor's room.

The door creaked softly as I entered. Noor was sitting on the floor, engrossed in her dollhouse. She didn't even look up when I called out to her. "Noor, baby," I said gently, trying to keep my voice steady.

She remained focused on her toys, ignoring me. I sighed and approached her, crouching down to her level. "Are you mad at Daddy?" I asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Noor still wouldn't look at me, her tiny brow furrowed in a stubborn frown. I couldn't help but notice how much she resembled her mother, not just in looks but in that unyielding determination. It made my heart ache to see her like this.

"Daddy's really sorry," I coaxed, my voice soft and pleading. "I promise I won't miss another school event again."

Still no response. I tried a different approach, gently scooping her into my arms. "Please, Noor. I'm really sorry."

Just then, Ayat burst into the room, her eyes wide with excitement. "Daddy!" she shouted, her face lighting up.

Noor, still in my arms, turned her head away. "Don't talk to him," she said firmly, and Ayat looked at her sister with confusion.

I decided to take a playful approach. I began tickling Noor, hoping to break through her tough exterior. "Please forgive Daddy," I said, my fingers dancing on her ribs.

Noor's resolve started to crumble as her giggles erupted. She squirmed and laughed uncontrollably, her anger melting away under my touch. "Okay, okay," she finally said between laughs, her eyes shining with forgiveness.

I smiled and set her down gently. "I'll take you to get ice cream and all the toys you want," I promised, and her face lit up, revealing her missing tooth.

Ayat clapped her hands and grinned. "Yay, ice cream!" she cheered.

I picked up Ayat and held her close, then turned to Noor. "Mommy is really mad at me right now," I said. "What do you think we should do to make her happy?"

Noor thought for a moment, then her eyes sparkled with a mischievous idea. "I'll make you look pretty for Mommy," she declared, a determined look on her face.

I laughed, the tension easing as I saw the creative glint in her eye. "Sounds like a plan," I said, ruffling her hair. "Let's get started."

-ASIYA-

I was curious about what my husband and kids were up to. The house had been unusually quiet since I sent Al-Qasim to apologize to Noor. With them, silence was rare, especially when it involved a mischievous duo like Noor and Ayat. I walked over to Noor's room, a bit intrigued and amused, wondering what might have unfolded during their time together.

As I pushed open the door, Noor's excited voice rang out, "Mommy! Don't look yet! Close your eyes!" I couldn't help but laugh at the urgency in her voice. It sounded like they were up to something creative—or at least something entertaining. I obediently closed my eyes, trying to suppress my curiosity as I heard giggles and whispers from the room.

"Okay, Mommy, you can look now!" Noor announced triumphantly. I opened my eyes and burst into laughter. There stood Al-Qasim, looking every bit like a comical painting come to life. His hair was adorned with an array of colorful hair clips, his cheeks were painted a bright rosy pink, his eyes were covered in a vibrant blue eyeshadow, and his lips were a glistening, shimmery gloss. It was a sight to behold, and I couldn't help but laugh heartily at the transformation.

"Look at Daddy!" Noor exclaimed proudly, her face beaming with accomplishment. Ayat, our two-year-old, joined in the laughter, though I wasn't entirely sure if she fully understood what was going on. Her giggles were infectious, adding to the overall hilarity of the scene.

"I made Daddy pretty for you," Noor said, her eyes shining with excitement. 

"I can see that," I replied, grinning widely. "He looks beautiful, Noor. You did such a good job, baby." It was clear she was thrilled with her work, and honestly, so was I. The sight of Al-Qasim looking so utterly transformed was just too funny.

"Help that she had me as a model," Al-Qasim said, making an elaborate gesture as he walked towards me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his eyes still rimmed with blue and his lips glistening. "I'm really sorry, Asiya. Noor has forgiven me, and I hope you can, too." He looked sincere, despite his makeup-induced transformation.

"I'm not kissing you while you look like that," I teased him, still laughing. 

"What? Am I not beautiful?" he asked, flipping his imaginary hair with an exaggerated flourish. It was hard not to laugh even more at his playful response.

Noor, always eager to spread her creative talents, asked me if I wanted a makeover too. "Mommy, can you sit for a makeover too?" she asked with a hopeful look. 

Al-Qasim encouraged me to join in, adding, "Come on, Asiya. It'll be fun. Noor's an amazing makeup artist."

How could I resist? I sat down, and Noor began her work on me. She was meticulous and full of concentration as she applied makeup with a tiny brush. Al-Qasim, unable to contain his laughter, watched with great amusement. The look on his face was priceless as he struggled to hold back his chuckles.

When Noor finally handed me a mirror to see her masterpiece, I had to stifle my own laughter. I looked like a queen, though I was sure it was more of a jest than anything regal. "I look like a queen," I told Noor, giving her the encouragement she clearly wanted. She beamed with pride at her work, thrilled with how she'd transformed her mother.

We took several photos of the entire event. I even sent some to Hannah, Ikram, and BJ, telling them to book Noor as their makeup artist. It was all in good fun, and I wanted to share the joy with them.

Later in the evening, we all found ourselves sprawled across our bed. I read a story to Noor and Ayat while Al-Qasim lay beside us, his still-glittery lips forming a contented smile. Ayat bounced energetically on Al-Qasim's stomach, each bounce eliciting a playful groan from him. It was a scene of pure, unadulterated family joy.

As I looked at them, my heart swelled with gratitude. We had our moments of laughter and tears, but these moments, these simple yet profound snippets of family life, were what made it all worthwhile. The love, the playfulness, the togetherness—it was everything I had ever wanted and more.