Jidderh (Completed)

chapter 36

Muhammad’s voice sounded distant as I felt my consciousness slipping away. Everything hurt, my head throbbing and the cold floor beneath me. The room started spinning, and I heard his frantic footsteps rushing towards me. His hands were trembling as he gently lifted me into his arms.

"Jidderh, please, wake up," he whispered, his voice full of regret and fear. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

I blinked, trying to keep my eyes open, but the pain was unbearable. "Muhammad... I..." My voice was weak, barely a whisper.

"Don't talk. Just hold on," he said, pressing his forehead against mine. "I’ll get you to the hospital."

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. I could hear him muttering prayers under his breath, his hands shaking as he steered the car. Once we arrived, everything happened so fast—the hospital staff rushing me inside, the blinding lights, the sound of machines beeping around me. The pain was still there, but I was slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

***

When I woke up, the room was dimly lit, and there was a soft hum of machines around me. My head still hurt, but the sharp pain had subsided. I slowly turned my head and saw Muhammad sitting by the window, his face buried in his hands. His once confident demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of complete devastation.

"Ya Moh..." I whispered.

He looked up immediately, his eyes filled with relief and guilt. He rushed to my side, gently taking my hand in his. "Alhamdulillah, you’re awake."

I tried to smile but winced from the pain. "What happened?"

"You… you fell," he said, his voice cracking. "It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have been so angry."

Tears welled up in his eyes, and I had never seen him like this—so broken, so vulnerable. I squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him, despite my own pain. "It’s okay, Muhammad. I know you didn’t mean it."

"No, it’s not okay," he said, shaking his head. "I almost lost you because of my temper. I don’t deserve your forgiveness."

I paused, thinking about everything that had happened between us—the good and the bad. "We both made mistakes. But we’re in this together. We can work through it."

He looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. "You’re really willing to forgive me? After everything?"

I nodded, tears now slipping down my cheeks. "Yes, but we have to make things better, Muhammad. We can’t keep hurting each other."

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I promise, Nurul Ayn. I’ll do whatever it takes to be a better husband to you. I’ll never let my anger control me again."

At that moment, the doctor came in, holding a clipboard. "How are you feeling, Mrs. Muhammad?" he asked, glancing between the two of us.

"Better," I managed to say.

The doctor smiled. "That’s good to hear. You had a nasty fall, but you’re going to be okay. However, there’s something else you need to know." He paused, looking at me carefully.

"Mrs. Muhammad, I deeply regret to inform you… but you've had a miscarriage," the doctor said, his voice calm yet heavy.

I felt the world crumble beneath me. Miscarriage? My breath caught, and a wave of disbelief hit me like a force of nature. My hands instinctively moved to my stomach. My baby… gone? Tears sprang to my eyes, and I tried to sit up, but the doctor placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.