Realm of Love [Short Love Stories]

Epilogue

I believe in forever because you are mine.

05/05/2039
Thursday

Dear Mom,

Everything is so fine here, Mom. Life is beautiful. I thought I would get used to it. But no matter how stretchy it gets. It makes me realize how it would have been more pretty if you were here. It's been days since I last wrote this journal. Not even days. It's been years. Five to be precise.

There are reasons why I didn't switch to taking this journal out to write. The biggest one which came in front was the fact that I used to write this just to make ugly things in my life beautiful but things here are completely different. Completely out of what I could have ever imagined.

Things had changed just like we had imagined. Today, Moosa gave me a bouquet full of roses which I had previously decorated in the tea table of our room. Because he told me, “It's been fifteen years… I can't muster up the courage to look back and think about it all. Because—because the time you were not here still haunts me.”

At times I wonder, why would Allah separate us? If we were not separated, how would we be? What differences would have made it if we were not separated?

Maybe we would have loved each other a little less than the distance caused us to love more. Maybe we wouldn't have treasured each other the way we do now. Everything happens for a reason that actually makes sense. The patience and the time was really worth it.

“What are you doing?” I heard behind me. I knew who it was. My man. My love. My Moosa. I turn to him with a smile. “You are writing in your… journal?”

He took the pen from my hand and took the previous page which was the one I wrote right after our wedding. He drew a heart and glanced back at me as I smiled. He slowly stroked the back of my head and leaned down, planting a kiss in my forehead.

“Our life… It seems like a story to me now. A cliché.”

“Well it is one story.” I wrapped my hands around him and hugged him. I felt a tug in my knees and a small hand pushed Moosa apart from me. A small person wrapped me up instead. I laughed looking at Moosa glare at him, cutely.

“You little boy! I have waited so long for your mother and you don't let me be with her!”

It's our son. Mufeez Shah.

He is two and a half years old. Barely could talk completely. Just a little. Moosa takes care of Mufeez so much. He is the apple of everyone's eyes. Even his five years old cousin Zeyad Shah and his fifteen years old cousin Azizah Shah. Such a cute family. Azizah to Moosa is like how Moosa was to Asfand Bhai. She loves coming here to meet us directly from her school. I wonder what stories our school is cooking now. Would it be better than ours? I laughed imagining that.