ROUHI

fourteen

It took a few months to get Saaqib to remember the importance of the five daily prayers and the significance of zikr and dua, but he gradually did everything, sometimes late but mostly at their appointed times. It was almost a year later that he had finally found the peace he had been looking for in the past two years. And it was in sujood, just as Hafsa had said she did.

Saaqib and Hafsa would wake up together for Fajr, and occasionally for Tahajjud. His work routine was back to normal. He had stopped gambling, but he still smoked. He quit for a few weeks when Hafsa faced breathing problems, but he resumed when she got better. It was the worst addiction.

At night Hafsa felt the happiest when her husband would lead the thirteen rakahs of qiyaam prayer, with her behind him. Then he would do zikr using her fingers, and then recite the Surah Mulk before going to sleep. Every night, Hafsa would say Alhamdulillah for guiding Saaqib towards the right path. Often she could not stop the tears from flowing when he would read Ayat'ul Kursi and blow over her face before hugging her body laying beside his. Even Saaqib couldn't deny the ecstasy he felt whenever Hafsa was around, whenever he could hear her voice, or just see her standing near him.

She was there. Even after everything he had let her gone through all alone, she was still there.

***

"What the-"

Hafsa put her finger on her lips to shush Saaqib. The baby she was holding was curled into a cacoon on her chest, sleeping while taking slow, deep breaths.

"Don't tell me I hadn't even known that we have a kid."

Hafsa chuckled lightly. "This is Fatima's son." Noticing the confused look on Saaqib's face, she added, "Maryam Khala's grandson."

"Why is he here?"

"They've gone on a long journey to some place where the weather is hot. Ibrahim- Hafsa lifted him up a little -cannot stand heat. Fatima said he got a very bad rash the last time he was exposed to the sun for a long time. So she requested me to look after him for a day." She smiled down at the adorable little mess clinging to her chest.

Saaqib took in the sight. It was quite a lot of times that he had imagined a small family with Hafsa. Two daughters, Aisha and Asiya, and one son, Ahmed. If anything that he felt bad about the most after the hurt he had caused Hafsa, it was it that he couldn't give her a child. He remembered very well how dreamily she used to talk about having eleven kids at the very beginning of their marriage, all their names figured out in order. To see her holding a baby now made him feel worse. He didn't want her to feel happy about this but rather immune. No, his doubts were never medically confirmed but it was quite clear to him that even after four years of being husband and wife, Hafsa had not conceived.

Until-

"I have something to tell you," Hafsa said without looking at Saaqib, her full attention on the sleeping little mess in her arms, face appearing shy.

"Yeah?"

"I'm pregnant."

It was as if Saaqib's world got flipped upside down, his hands fell limp to his sides from their previous position on his hips. Hafsa could not be pregnant.

"How do you know?"

"I might've studied medicine a few years back," Hafsa answered with a mischievous smile. "Also, it's pretty easy to understand. Actually, it was khala who had first noticed. You know, since the last few days I've been feeling very weak. I've vomited a few times too. Being with child had completely escaped my mind until khala reminded me about the symptoms. Isn't it great, Saaqib? We're finally gonna be parents!"

Hafsa's smile was so wide, so generous, so heartwarming, it pained Saaqib not to grin himself. But along with this happiness he got from hers, fear crept up his spine. That night, when Hafsa had gone to sleep, he prayed and prayed and prayed that Maryam Khala had been right, that Hafsa was indeed pregnant. He could not see her to be heartbroken again.