In The Grip of Trust

Chapter 10: Small Steps

The days began to unfold into a routine, but there was something subtly shifting in the air, a quiet change within the household. Ayesha had spent more time with the twins, Amina and Bilal, who had begun to warm up to her. Though she hadn’t fully embraced the role of a mother, Amir’s mother had been guiding her patiently, showing her the ropes of childcare.

One particular morning, Ayesha found herself sitting on the floor with Amina and Bilal. The twins, now 1.5 years old, were full of energy, their small hands grabbing for toys and babbling in their toddler language. Ayesha watched them, unsure of what to do at first, but she soon found herself smiling—an odd, rare smile that even she wasn’t aware of.

"Ma... Ma..." Amina mumbled, her tiny fingers reaching for Ayesha’s hand.

Ayesha froze for a moment, surprised by the sound. "Did you just...?" she murmured, looking at the little girl.

Amina giggled and repeated it, clearer this time. "Mamma!"

Ayesha’s heart skipped a beat. It was the first time she had heard it—"Mamma." The word was foreign to her, something she had never thought she would be called. Bilal, not wanting to be left behind, joined in with his own babble.

"Mamma, Mamma!" Bilal repeated, his little voice just as sweet, though slightly more mischievous.

Ayesha’s eyes softened, and though she didn’t respond out loud, something in her chest stirred—a sensation she had long thought was lost. The twins had accepted her in their innocent, childlike way, calling her the one thing she had never imagined she would be.

The moment didn’t go unnoticed. Amir’s mother, watching from the kitchen, smiled warmly. "They’ve taken to you, Ayesha. Children know when someone loves them. You’re doing better than you think."

Ayesha didn’t respond but nodded, her thoughts conflicted. She didn’t feel like a mother, not yet. But these children, in their own pure way, were starting to grow on her.

Later that day, as the family gathered for breakfast, the house was alive with chatter. Zain, sitting proudly next to Amir, kept glancing over at Ayesha with a curious smile.

"Ayesha Mamma, can I have one more pudding?" Zain asked with the confidence of a child who had already claimed her as his own.

Amir, sitting across from her, noticed the way Zain so easily called her "Mamma." It stirred something in him—an odd mix of sadness and relief. He hadn’t expected Zain to adjust so quickly, but hearing him call Ayesha "Mamma" reminded Amir of the gaping hole left by Layla. Still, he held his tongue, knowing his son needed this more than he needed to cling to the past.

Hamza, ever the prankster, grinned as he passed Ayesha another bowl of custard. "You’re becoming a hit around here, Ayesha Bhabi. Pretty soon, the twins will be asking you to cook their favorite meals too."

Sara giggled beside him, nodding in agreement. "Oh, they already love you, Ayesha Bhabi. Bilal and Amina won’t leave you alone soon enough."

Ayesha smiled faintly, not quite sure how to respond to the praise. The atmosphere was light, filled with jokes and playful teasing, but there was still a lingering tension between her and Amir. They had learned to navigate around each other without addressing the growing distance, and though Amir’s family welcomed her with open arms, she still felt like a stranger among them.

Amir’s father, ever observant, joined in the conversation. "Ayesha, pudding is excellent. You’ve got a talent for making sweets. It reminds me of when your mother-in-law used to make it for us in the early days."

Ayesha gave a polite nod, offering a small "thank you," while Amir’s mother smiled proudly at her. It was clear that Amir’s parents were trying their best to make her feel at home, but Ayesha still felt a disconnection—a disconnection from life itself.

Amir, however, was not as relaxed as the rest. Though he tried to hide it, his mind was still plagued by thoughts of Ayesha’s past. That one innocent question from Hamza had opened a door in Amir’s mind that he couldn’t close. He wanted to ask her more about it, but every time he thought of confronting her, he hesitated. Was it even his place to ask? Could he handle the answer if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear?

The breakfast table was filled with laughter as Hamza started a mock debate about who made the best tea in the house, causing Sara to argue back while their father chuckled at their banter. Zain, meanwhile, was focused entirely on Ayesha, peppering her with questions about whether she would play with him after breakfast.

"Ayesha Mamma, will you play hide-and-seek with me and Hamza Chachu later?" Zain’s innocent voice pulled Ayesha from her thoughts.

Ayesha looked at the boy and nodded, her voice softer than usual. "Of course, Zain. We can play after you finish your breakfast."

Amir couldn’t help but notice the way Zain had already become attached to Ayesha. It was a bittersweet sight—one that tugged at his heart in ways he didn’t fully understand. Zain’s acceptance of Ayesha as his mother was swift, something Amir hadn’t expected.

But even as Amir sat there, surrounded by his family, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in his chest—the feeling that Ayesha wasn’t telling him everything, that she was hiding something far deeper than he had imagined.

That night, Amir woke again for his Tahajjud prayer, his body moving almost instinctively as he rose from the bed. Ayesha, as usual, remained still beside him. After finishing his Tahajjud, Amir turned to her, once again hoping to guide her back toward faith.

"Ayesha, will you pray Fajr today?" he asked quietly, his voice soft but persistent.

Ayesha stirred slightly but shook her head. "No, Amir. I told you I don't like these," she whispered, her tone distant.

Amir’s heart sank at her words. He had heard them before, but each time, they hurt just as much. He didn’t push her further, though. Instead, he went back to his prayer mat and began his Fajr prayer alone. Zain, who had woken up early, joined him as he had done before, following his father’s every move.

As Amir taught Zain the Sunnah of prayer, his mind drifted back to Ayesha. He couldn’t understand how someone who seemed so intelligent, so brilliant, could have lost her way so completely. It pained him to see her so detached from faith, from life. He could only hope that in time, she would find her way back—not just to faith, but to herself.

As Amir lay back in bed after prayer, he glanced at Ayesha’s sleeping form. There was so much he didn’t know about her, so much she kept hidden. And though he was determined to be a reliable husband, he couldn’t help but wonder if they would ever bridge the growing distance between them.