Make Me Your Villain | ✓

Epilogue

Hayat Azhar

The city lights sprawled across the night like stars had fallen to earth. It was so alive, so different from the quiet view I'd grown up amidst. I wondered if I'd ever really get used to it.

My phone buzzed in the pocket of my cardigan, breaking me out of my reverie. It was a message from Sania.

Sis-tastic : My mids are over. When are we meeting up?

A smile landed on my lips as I spun around and leaned against the railing.

Me : Pretty soon, so be ready to whip up your famous red velvet cake, okay?

Sis-tastic : Oh, how the tables have turned. Deal :)

Still smiling, I locked my phone and dropped it on the table. Sania had grown up so much. She was in medical school now, working her way toward a degree before following her dream to teach.

She'd become so determined, so focused—I couldn't be prouder.

Funny how the little girl who used to dodge house chores was now managing her own apartment, cooking up a storm. She even turned out to be a better cook than me.

I turned to look back up at the sky, reliving my hobby from our old neighborhood, and that familiar ache crept in. The past... it was never far, always a breath away.

How do you quiet the grief that lingers after someone's death? That ache of knowing someone is gone forever?

Perhaps we would have followed those we love into the final exit if there wasn't something holding us back and giving us hope.

For me, that hope was my religion. It gave me something to hold on to.

As a Muslim, I knew death wasn't the end. I could still pray for those I'd lost and give charity in their name; my good deeds would benefit us both.

Closing my eyes, I whispered a prayer for the family I missed, for all those gone and those still here.

The concept of dua was beautiful. When a Muslim prays for another, the angels reply, "May God accept it for you too."

In Islam, whatever good we give, always comes back.

Oh Allah, strengthen my faith and grant me patience, to live on without the anchor that once kept me steady.

"Do you plan on staying out here all night?"

A gentle voice made me pry my eyes open. I turned to see my husband leaning against the door, smiling that familiar, kind smile.

"You're back already?" I quickly wiped my eyes and stepped away from the railing. "How was the appointment?"

"Mhm, pretty good," he said, giving a thumbs-up. "Right eye's just a little weaker, but no, I'm not going blind in it too. On the contrary, I'm going to be forced to wear glasses." He exclaimed. "Do you realize how nerdy that will make me look?"

"You'll look fine. Be grateful it's just glasses you need." I scolded him, my eyebrows furrowed and he turned to pass me a grin, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Going from concerned to angry in a split-second? Mood swing master, right here!"

"Shut up, Sameer."

"Okay, jaan."

Relief washed over me. That accident had left scars, but Sameer's resilience never stopped surprising me. He'd lost sight in his left eye, and recently, there had been a scare about his right eye too.