Marrying the son of Asraf 2

🪷Seventy~ Three 🪷

The house had finally grown quiet, After all the hugs, the laughter, the food, and the endless stories that bounced off the walls like a warm memory, everyone had slowly drifted to their rooms, leaving the night to speak in its softest voice.

The crickets outside played their lullaby. The ceiling fan hummed above. And in her old room, Summayyah sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, brushing Azman's curls with her fingers.

He was fast asleep.

She had wrapped him in the same soft blanket her mother used for her when she was little, faded blue with tiny yellow stars. His chest rose and fell slowly, peacefully, and his small hand still held onto the corner of her scarf like he was afraid she'd disappear.

She kissed his forehead and lingered there, breathing him in. "You're so brave," she whispered. "More than you should ever have to be."

She sat there a little longer, just watching him. Watching his innocence, his calm. The way sleep wrapped around him like it knew he'd been waiting a long time for peace.

Then the door creaked open gently, and her mother peeked in. "Still awake?" she whispered.

Summayyah nodded, her lips curved into a quiet smile. "Couldn't sleep yet." She replied.

Her mother stepped in, wearing one of her old wrappers and carrying a flask of hot tea. She placed it on the small table by the bed, then sat beside her daughter with a sigh that came from deep in her bones. "You've grown," she said softly. "Not just older but Stronger."

Summayyah leaned into her mother's shoulder, resting her head there. "I didn't think I'd come back... like this. Broken. With a child. With pain I haven't even unpacked yet."

Her mother held her tighter. "Amma kin dawo, You came back home. That's all that matters."

Tears started to welled up in her eyes, but this time, they weren't out of grief, they were gratitude. "Mama, I didn't want to be a burden. If only you'd let me find a place of my own."

"No! You're not." Her mother turned to face her. "You're my daughter. This house is yours, this love is yours. And that boy, he's our gift. Allah brought you through all of it. Don't waste your peace by thinking you don't deserve it."

A single tear slipped down Summayyah's cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. "I just want to heal... and give Azman a life where he never has to wonder if he's enough."

"He already knows he is. Look at how he looks at you," her mother said with a smile. "You're all he needs."

There was silence between them for a moment, thick, soft and comfortable. "Do you regret not choosing Faruq?" her mother asked quietly, not judging, only curious.

Summayyah shook her head slowly. "No. I care about him... I didn't choose him, he has tried for me and Azman. He has a family of his own now and I needed to give them that space. For two years I was trying to solve every puzzle of my life, if I had made the right decision but I promised myself this year, I won't lose myself again."

Her mother nodded. "Good. Hold onto that." She squeezed Summayyah's hands softly.

The wind outside rustled the curtains gently. The stars blinked through the windowpane. And in that stillness, surrounded by safety and love, Summayyah closed her eyes.

"I'm tired, Mama," she whispered.

"I know," her mother replied, brushing a hand over her daughter's hair. "Rest now. Tomorrow is yours."

She stood and turned off the light, leaving only the moonlight to spill across the room and as she left the door slightly ajar, Summayyah curled beside her son, exhaled deeply, and let herself fall into the first peaceful sleep she had known in months.