True Purpose

c h a p t e r 12

Hassan woke up at dawn due to the buzzing of his phone. He looked at Zaynab, only to see she was fast asleep, seemingly unaffected by the buzzing. He figured that she must have been exhausted.

He turned on the lamp on the bedside stand. He reached out with his hand and held her shoulder, gently shaking it in order to wake her up.

"Zaynab, wake up. Fajr time!" He called, as he tried to wake her up.

Her eyes immediately fluttered open. Her eyes fell to his hand on her shoulder and she winced. But this time, he understood why. Hassan knew that simply telling Zaynab not to be scared of him wasn't going to make her inner fear disappear. He had to win her over, and he knew it wasn't going to be easy. He had married a broken girl and he knew it. She had told him everything, and he knew he couldn't blame her.

Hassan didn't retract his hand from her shoulder. Not because he wanted to make her uncomfortable, but because he wanted her to get used to it. She was his wife and he wasn't doing anything wrong to her. She had to realise that.

"Zaynab? You've to pray Fajr. I'm going to the masjid," Hassan said.

"Okay," Zaynab replied.

Hassan looked at her curiously. "You remember how to pray Fajr, right?"

"Yeah, I do. Two rakaahs, right?" Zaynab replied.

Hassan nodded. He got out of bed and entered the ensuite bathroom to perform ablution.

A while later, Hassan came out and Zaynab went inside the bathroom to perform ablution herself.

When she came out, Hassan had put on a white, collared thobe, and Zaynab just stared at him. He looked gorgeous. He was running a hand through his hair, and she felt relieved that he didn't notice her staring.

"I'm going, Zaynab. You pray, okay?" Hassan said.

Zaynab nodded and watched him leave. Sometimes, she wondered how she ended up with such a nice man after nineteen years of torture. What if he was just nice as a show? And then he ended up just like Sahir?

Zaynab was scared when he touched her because in her mind, she saw all men like Sahir. But Hassan was nowhere near Sahir. Hassan was doubtlessly the best person she had ever come across. Yet she was scared of him. She herself wanted that to change.

Brushing the thoughts of Hassan away, she put on her jilbaab, and prayed her Fajr salaah the way Hassan had taught her. Then again, she found herself thinking about how nice it was of him to teach her how to pray, because through these prayers, Zaynab found peace and satisfaction.

She decided to take a nap, and then wake up at seven in the morning to get ready for university. She climbed onto the bed and tried to sleep, but she just couldn't go back to sleep.

Her mind was occupied with thoughts of Hassan. No matter how hard she tried not to think too much of him, she just couldn't avoid his thoughts. She felt that she didn't deserve him. She was a horrible wife, because first off, Hassan was so religious, yet she didn't know anything about Islam. And he was so nice that he actually tried his best to teach her basic prayers that even children knew. Secondly, all he had ever been to her was nice, gentle and caring. Yet, she was scared of him. Thirdly, she felt that he deserved a wife who didn't have such a miserable past and who didn't have so many issues.

Zaynab pictured his megawatt smile, and just that was enough to melt her heart. She recalled his gentle touch, and mentally reprimanded herself for flinching at it. He didn't deserve that kind of treatment from her. She remembered his warm words the previous morning when she had told him everything. He was the nicest person, yet she just didn't understand why she was so stiff towards him.