Marrying the son of Asraf 2

🪷Seventy~ six 🪷

A Few Days After the Wedding

On the 10th of January, 2026, Summayyah and Khalil tied the knot again—not just as two people remarrying, but as two hearts finally aligned. Their second wedding wasn't too grand, but it wasn't as simple as the first either. It was just right. Laughter echoed through the gathering, joy filled the air, and amidst it all, the couple found peace in each other. Alhamdulillah.

Azman didn't go with them. Ahmad had insisted.
"Hmn, Hajiya, don't worry—I'll take care of him for you!" he'd said with a grin. And so, they left Azman in his care, kissed him goodbye, and drove off to begin their new chapter.

To Summayyah's surprise, Khalil hadn't taken her back to Jabi.

Instead, he pulled up in front of a brand-new detached house in Brains and Hammers, Life Camp. Way bigger than his old bungalow. More space. More light. More of everything.

"You moved?" she asked, eyes wide.

"We're building a family," he said with a soft smile. "We need a bigger house."

She blushed, nudging him lightly. "Really? You're not serious."

But he was. And that laugh of hers? He wanted to keep hearing it forever.

⸻
One rainy evening, the weather cold and quiet, the two of them sat in the living room. The rain tapped gently against the windows like a lullaby. Khalil sat cross-legged on the rug with a steaming mug of tea. Summayyah was curled up on the couch, wrapped in her favorite grey shawl—the one his mother had gifted her.

No words. Just the kind of silence that only exists between two people who no longer need to pretend.

She glanced at him, then asked quietly,
"Ka ta ba tuna ni? Mai zai faru in ba dawo ba?"
(Do you ever think about what would've happened if I never came back?)

Khalil looked up slowly, tightening his grip around the mug.
"Every single day," he said.

She blinked.

"I tried to forget you," he added. "Told myself you didn't want me. That you left because you stopped loving me..."

He paused, looking at her. "But that wasn't true, was it? Maybe you didn't love me at first, but you always cared—especially about my health."

She shook her head, voice barely a whisper.
"I never stopped. I started to accept you as my husband... I asked Allah to help me love you. But I left because I couldn't keep trying alone. I waited for you, Khalil. I needed you to fight for me."

He exhaled, eyes lowered. "I was scared. Scared of failing... of not being enough. But when I saw our son, it felt like seeing you for the first time again. Like Allah gave me another chance."

She slid down from the couch and sat beside him, their shoulders touching.

"Well, gani nan," she said softly. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere... unless you push me away."

"Never again," he said, holding her gaze.

He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.
"I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel alone again."

"It's a promise," she whispered.

"It's a promise," he echoed.

They sat there as the rain fell, wrapped in silence, in warmth, in the kind of love that had been tested and still survived. A love that bloomed quietly, no grand gestures, just shared breath, steady hearts, and healing.

⸻
When their honeymoon ended, they went to pick up Azman. The moment he saw his mother, he ran into her arms like he'd been holding his breath the whole time.