Just Make Du'aa

• t w e l v e •

Farouz

    If it was only that easy, fixing the damage I caused with that fight a couple nights ago. Part of me wants it to be that easy, to ignore all the unresolved problems and go on as we were before. But I know Dina, and she deserves better. The words that came out of my mouth that night, and my actions, they scared her. And they scared me. That anger, I didn't think I still had that in me. It was all bottled inside me, and I blew up.

    That's how my father lived, repressed emotions, and he became angry. I will not become my father. The minute possibility scared the life out of me. I refuse to ever come near what he is. So I will not take the easy way out of this situation. I'm going to carry all the weight and live with the consequences because I'm not my father. He's a coward and took the easy way out. I'm choosing the road less taken.

    Dina was still asleep next to me, curled in my shirt, which she put on blindly last night when it got cold. She's so pure, God gifted me when she walked into my life. Any other girl would have been angry at my stupidity, but she didn't look back when I walked in. And maybe she was willing to overlook the entire fight, and go on as normal. But before she was my wife, Dina was my patient. So I studied her, and I know she will forgive in a blink of an eye and believe that she's not hurting. But the pain will transform into anxiety and it will eat her up. Also part of her will never feel safe, or trust me, again, and that will ruin our relationship. I have to be the one to drive the fixation process because she's too kind to bring it up if she knows it might hurt me.

    With that thought, I rolled out of bed as quietly as possible. After making Wu'du and praying the morning prayer, Dina was still asleep. Hopefully she stays that way for a while. In the kitchen, I tried my best to pull together a nice breakfast. I've fed myself for most my life, but my cooking skills were far from being nearly as good as Dina's. The entire breakfast was simple, I didn't want to mess too many things up so I focused on what I knew. A couple weeks after our wedding Dina taught me how to make those beans from her hometown, so I made them, eggs, and coffee. I wanted to do more, but like I said, quality over quantity.

    I tried my best to set the table so that it looked nice, but again, Dina was better at this than I am. But I think I did a pretty good job, with a rose on the table and everything. And I finished it just in time, Dina walked into the kitchen, her bare feet dragging and her hands rubbing at her sleep filled eyes, "good morning," she yawned, her eyes widening when she saw the table, "you did this?"

    Her surprise made my face heat up, "er... I just wanted to do something after–"

    "Farouz," she said my name and my nerves loosened, her arabic accent and the way my name sounded on her tongue never failed to calm me down, "it's wonderful. Jazakallah, thank you."

    "Of course," I bounced nervously on my feet, wanting to walk up to her and give her a kiss. But now was not the right moment, I need to stay focused. "Sit down," I pulled up her chair, "it's probably been really long since you've eaten."

    She nodded sheepishly, her eyes eyeing the food hungrily, "I should probably go pray first."

    "When the table is set, you eat first," I said, "the prophet peace be upon him said so himself."

    Dina laughed and slid into the seat, "alright, I guess."

    We ate in silence, and I dared to speak only after I knew she was done. "Dina I'm sorry."

    Her hand, which was running through her hair, stopped, "Farouz you don't have to–"

    "But I do," I interrupted, "because every bad thing that happened that night happened because of me." She remained silent, listening, "and it lead to a lot of unresolved issues."