After the truth

~39~

Shamsia was seated in front of a beautiful, stunning Somalia woman who was dressed in the brightest gold boubou that suited her skin tone beautifully. It was no wonder that her husband got married to her. The lady had on a silk, black scarf wrapped in a turban style with gold accents around the front. Beside the woman was Belinda and Maryam. Zayn had stepped out to get something or someone.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." The woman stretched forth smooth hands that held large gold rings. Shamsia noted her love for gold. "I'm Mulki."

"Shamsia."

"I heard the news of our husband dying." Mulki started, clutching her purse. "I never knew he had another family. I never knew I was the other person." She looked devastated and disgusted with herself.

"Is that so?" Shamsia muttered.

"I also never knew him as Hussein. He was Shafi Hamza to me."

Shamsia's eyes widened at the information. Shafi was Hussein's great grand father. He didn't use his own name.

"I deeply regret whatever pain you might be feeling." The woman continued and it left Shamsia so confused. What was she regretful about. "I know we just met but can I ask you for a favor?"

Shamsia nodded. She noticed Maryam looking bored and tired of listening to her mother talking. Even Belinda looked weary, the poor girl. Hussein had taken a lot from people. Even the chance of his son's happiness.

"I never wanted to be a mother. At least not to a female child." Mulki was close to tears. "I've suffered my whole life and birthing a male child was my key to living a luxurious life. If I had known the old oaf had sons, I would have simply swindled him and exited."

"Astagfirullah." Shamsia was shocked at her outburst. The lady didn't care if her daughter heard her.

"Maryam is like a daughter to you. Can you raise her for me. She will be with her siblings and live a happier life than with me." Mulki pleaded, crying.

"I wish I was Marwa's daughter and not yours." Maryam suddenly said, running out of the room. Shamsia stood up to go after her but Mulki held onto her wrist.

"Belinda will get her." Mulki glanced at the said lady.

When it was just the two ladies, Mulki let out a sigh. Her hands clasped around Shamsia's hands.

"I have only two months to live." Mulki stated. Her eyes were moist with tears. It made Shamsia wonder if she was acting this scene. Regardless, she felt pity for the lady.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I've done a lot of wrong in life and I know I tell Maryam otherwise, but I genuinely love her so much it hurts to think that I wouldn't see her again. But it's better this way. I haven't been present much in her life anyways so hopefully it hurts less."

"What are you saying? If you love her then tell her. She loves you so much as well. She's angry but she does."

Mulki began crying. She pulled away from Shamsia and raised shaky fingers to wipe her tears away. Now, Shamsia started to notice things. The bright gold of her cloth helped hide her bony figure and her fingers were thin.

"I've had cancer for as long as I can remember." Mulki sighed. "Having Maryam was a miracle. I am so blessed to have her wallah. I thought I could fight it. Get better and be by her side but I got worse and I couldn't see her anymore. I didn't want her to be attached to me and get hurt when I pass on. Please help me love Maryam so much she doesn't remember me."

Shamsia stood and went around the table. She pulled Mulki in her embrace and hugged her as tight as her shrunken body could allow. With all the luxury on her skin, one would think she was on a diet or exercising. One of those rich, shallow women who cared about looks alone.

"Let's take care of her together. I'll care for you so you can pour so much love into her. She's a child who needs her mother. How much anger do you think she has towards you? When you pass on, and everyone forgets, that sweet child will remember. She loves you Mulki. She does love you."

Mulki's frail body shook as she sobbed. Life has been so cruel to her, yet Allah still looked out for her. She wrapped her arms around the woman, returning her warm embrace.

**********
Belinda plopped on the wooden bench outside, watching Maryam on the swing. She let out another loud sigh for the umpteenth time. She was tired, utterly alone and exhausted. Life was exhausting.

"Belle."

She froze. His scent filled her nostrils and the cause of her sadness had a voice that made her emotional. For once, she wanted happiness. Allah gave it and took it almost immediately, as if taunting her. She sucked in a deep breath and slowly turned around.

He looked handsome in a casual plaid shirt and dark denim jeans. Her eyes drifted to his hands that seemed to hold onto something, or someone.
No. It couldn't be.

"My father has hurt you a lot and I'm sorry." Zayn stared down at his shoes. His heart was beating rapidly and he could feel tears in his eyes. "You must be hurt."

Belinda watched a tear drop from his eyes and she too began to cry. She loved how he wasn't afraid to show how he felt. She loved how he protected his family. She loved this man and she couldn't have him.

Zayn slowly stepped aside and led the young boy holding his hands to his mother. He saw her beautiful dark eyes widen in surprise and he wished in that moment that she was his wife and the boy was his son.

"I'm sorry for the pain that my father or I may have caused you." Zayn apologized. "I truly hope that you can be happy."

"Farhan." Belinda ran the short distance and grabbed the boy. He smelled like berries and a little bit of the man that she loved. She started to cry profusely, holding him to her bossom. He was as small as Mukhlisa and was a spitting image of Zayn. He could have passed as his father.

"Mummy?" The boy called out, pulling away from her.

"Yes my love." She nodded, caressing his face.

"Zayn?" She was confused, elated, sad, happy, angry. She didn't know exactly what to feel. "Thank you so much."

"Belle. I want you to be happy. I know we can't be together anymore but I love you. I love you so much and I want you to live a fulfilling life." Zayn told her.

Belinda was at a loss for words. She watched as the man gave her what seemed to be a final smile and immediately, he was gone like he never came. She regretted not telling him how she felt about him. Belinda wondered how life would have gone if she had aborted the baby back then.

She stared down at her son and felt grateful. He was a reminder of her depressing past and the reason she couldn't be with who she loved. Despite all of this, she was immensely grateful. She couldn't have Zayn but here was a spitting image of him. In her fairytale, Farhan was the son of Zayn Hussein.

Zayn Abdulmani Hussein, the man of her heart.