Between Wealth and Worship

Chapter 3 - Under One Roof

Two weeks had passed since the Siddiqi gala, and the house felt different. Zayd had been in and out of the family home, Layla kept her distance, and Amina maintained her usual neutrality. Yet, Mariam remained content, savoring the rare occasion that her family was under one roof again.

That morning, the sun filtered through the tall windows, bathing the house in warmth. Mariam was quietly moving around the living room, her heart light. The tension between her children was still there, but she took comfort in their physical presence, praying that the emotional distance would close with time.

Zayd entered the room, dressed in casual clothes for once. "Assalamu alaikum, Mom," he greeted, giving her a brief kiss on the cheek.

"Wa alaikum assalam, Zayd. You're staying home today?" she asked, hopeful that he might relax for a change.

"Not for long," he replied, pouring himself a glass of water. "Just wrapping up some things before I head to the office."

Mariam nodded, though she had hoped he'd take a break. Her heart lifted when she heard Layla's footsteps coming down the stairs, her daughter's face framed in soft curls. "Assalamu alaikum, Layla."

"Wa alaikum assalam," Layla said, her tone neutral. She took a seat in the living room but didn't glance at Zayd. Despite being in the same house, the siblings barely acknowledged each other.

"Where's Baba?" Amina asked, entering the room from the kitchen.

"He stepped out early," Mariam answered, her voice steady. "He had a meeting. He should be back soon, insha'Allah."

But Hassan wasn't at a meeting. He was at the doctor's office, sitting across from his longtime physician, Dr. Malik.

"Assalamu alaikum, Hassan," Dr. Malik greeted him warmly, though his expression was serious.

"Wa alaikum assalam, doctor," Hassan responded, forcing a smile as he took his seat. The slight heaviness in his chest had returned, a reminder of the battle he was fighting quietly, out of sight from his family. They didn't know. They didn't need to know-at least not yet.

Dr. Malik reviewed the latest test results, his face betraying little emotion. Hassan braced himself. He had been prepared for bad news, but hearing it always felt like a punch in the gut.

"The cancer has progressed, Hassan," Dr. Malik said after a pause. "It's spreading faster than we anticipated."

Hassan's face remained calm, though his grip on the chair tightened. "And what are my options?"

Dr. Malik sighed. "We can explore more aggressive treatments, but..." He trailed off, knowing Hassan didn't want to hear false hope. "It might be time to start thinking about how you want to handle things. Your family will need to know."

Hassan shook his head, his voice firm. "Not yet. I can still manage. I don't want to worry them."

The doctor hesitated. "Hassan, you need to consider what's best for your family. You can't do this alone forever."

Hassan stood up, signaling the end of the conversation. "I'll let them know when the time is right. For now, I need to focus on the business."

By the time Hassan returned home, the house was quiet again. Zayd had left for the office, Layla was in her room, and Mariam was busy with some household task. Amina, however, sat at the kitchen table, her eyes lifting when her father walked in.

"Assalamu alaikum, Baba," she greeted, her voice soft.

"Wa alaikum assalam, beta," Hassan replied, managing a smile as he took a seat beside her.

"Everything okay?" Amina asked, her brow furrowed slightly. "You've been out a lot lately."

Hassan patted her hand reassuringly. "Everything's fine, Amina. Just business. Nothing to worry about."

Amina didn't look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. "You should rest more. You work too hard."

Hassan chuckled softly. "Your mother says the same thing."

Later that evening, the family gathered for dinner. The table was filled with the smell of freshly cooked biryani and savory dishes, as Mariam took pride in feeding her family. Hassan sat at the head of the table, quietly watching his children interact-or rather, avoid interacting.

The meal had gone mostly in silence, until Hassan looked up at Layla, his expression gentle but direct. "Layla, it's been so long since you've been home. What's brought you back from Paris after all this time?"

Layla froze slightly, the question clearly unsettling her. She hadn't expected her father to bring up Paris, not in front of everyone. She swallowed, forcing a small smile. "I thought it was time to expand the business," she replied carefully. "Durban is as good a place as any."

Her words were measured, but they all knew it wasn't the full truth. Layla had fled to Paris years ago, escaping an arranged marriage her father had set up for her-one she hadn't wanted. It had been her way of breaking free from the expectations placed on her as the eldest daughter, and her return now felt more like unfinished business than a homecoming.

Hassan's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he nodded. "Well, it's good to have you back," he said, though there was something unspoken in his gaze-a mixture of love and disappointment. He wouldn't press further, not now. But he had hoped Paris would have changed things.

Layla glanced at Zayd, who remained focused on his plate, offering no comment. The silence stretched, the weight of the past still heavy between them.