Threads of love

unspoken promises

Chapter four

The decision weighed heavy on my heart. The days in isolation had given me plenty of time to think, and even though I tried to ignore it, the truth settled uncomfortably in my chest: this couldn't go on. My family's disapproval had grown clearer each day, pressing on me like a heavy, invisible chain. Ibrahim's words, Layla's glances, and Farid's anger were impossible to forget. And I couldn't shake the memory of Mama's tearful look when she saw the tension between us, the silent heartbreak as she held her tongue but watched with worry.

I knew what I had to do.

When Ibrahim finally left the house early one morning, I slipped out as quietly as possible. Every step felt like a betrayal, each sound making me feel as though I were already caught. Yet a part of me felt like this was my only chance, my last attempt to make things right before closing this chapter for good.

By the time I reached Abdullah's stall, my heart was pounding, though not from the brisk walk. Abdullah looked up, surprise flashing across his face before his eyes softened. He greeted me with that familiar, steady gaze, but I could see a question forming behind it, as if he sensed the reason for my visit.

"Aalya." His voice was gentle as he stepped around the stall to stand beside me. "I wasn't sure I'd see you again."

I looked down, struggling to find the right words. I had imagined this conversation a hundred times, but now, standing here with him so close, they felt tangled and heavy on my tongue. I didn't want to hurt him. But I knew the pain would only deepen if I held on any longer.

"I want to be your wife, Abdullah," I whispered, my voice barely holding steady, " We can never be together."

My words seemed to hang in the air, fragile and breaking, as I watched his expression shift, his usual warmth dimming as he stared at me, understanding dawning slowly. His brother, standing beside him, looked from Abdullah to me in confusion, sensing the gravity of what was unfolding.

"Goodbye," I murmured, the word almost sticking in my throat as I turned, willing myself to keep moving. Tears blurred my vision as they slid down my face, each step feeling like it tore at something inside me. I walked faster, determined not to look back, to let go, to—

"Aalya!" His voice broke through the air, startling me, calling me back like it always had. I quickened my pace, but his footsteps grew louder. He was right behind me.

"Marry me," he said, his voice hoarse, desperate.

I stopped, facing him, my heart pounding as his words settled.

"Abdullah, what are you saying?"

"Marry me. I'll go to your father right now, I'll speak to him." His eyes searched mine, pleading, holding onto something he couldn't bear to let slip away.

"What about everything we shared these past weeks? You can't just walk away."

I shook my head, my hands trembling. "Those were mistakes," I said, my voice barely audible. "It was wrong of me to be with you like this. I shouldn't be here, not without a mahram, not when I've already promised myself to someone else."

A wave of pain flashed across his face, his eyes glistening.

"Aalya, I knew from the moment I met you that I wanted you to be my wife." His voice cracked, the emotion spilling through each word.

"I know what I feel for you. I know I love you. Are you saying you don't feel the same?"

The question hung in the air between us, and I looked into his eyes, feeling my heart splintering with the truth I couldn't bring myself to say. In that silence, he saw the answer in my gaze, the words I couldn't speak.