Living In Fear

Chapter 7

Hasna's P.O.V---

After Fajr, I walked downstairs to get some breakfast but my mum was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs with the wheelchair. I sighed, knowing that I couldn't win her in this one. After all, it took me twenty minutes just to painfully walk down the stairs. She wanted to push me but I said I would push myself. 

"Aw, my little pumpkin, how are you feeling?" 

"Abbu, I'm not a pumpkin." I pushed myself over to the shorter counter top and began to make myself breakfast. Abbu stood up to help but I wanted to do it myself. After twenty minutes of trying, I realised that I couldn't do it. I couldn't even push myself properly because I was working with one hand. Abbu stood up with a small smile and pushed me to table. He then began to make my breakfast. I hated seeing everyone do everything for me. Amma came in and grinned at me. This isn't good. 

"You're going to see a guy's family today!" 

"No, Amma! I'm in a wheelchair. Amma, please, not today." 

"No, he needs to know that this happens sometimes." 

After I got ready, Amma pushed me down the ramp that we had specially made after my accident. I felt so useless with everyone doing everything for me. I saw Amina standing near the door. I felt so bad for her because after my accident, my parents were all focused on me. That was the time she went and done so many crazy things. Alhamdulillah she has reformed.

We went to the hospital first and the doctor told me he couldn't take off the cast because my bones still haven't repaired themselves. He said it would be another week. Then we started driving towards the man's house. I just couldn't Imad out of my head! It was so annoying! Abbu slowed down in front of a house and when I looked at it I felt a smile creep up on my face. It was Imad's house.

"Amma, really?"

"Sister Khadra spoke to me and I thought it was a good idea. Look, they even made a ramp for you." Abbu pushed me up the ramp and rang the doorbell. Imad opened the door without really looking up. Aunty rushed over and greeted everyone.

"Imad, look at your future wife!" Aunty teased. Uncle came out the room and slapped Imad's back. Imad then looked down at me and slowly smiled. He hugged his dad and started to jump up and down.

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Baba! Thank you!"

We all went into the living room and sat down. Well I was already seated. "I thought you were gonna get your cast off?" Imad asked.

"No, it's not healed properly." I started to pour myself a glass of water but since the jug was too heavy it spilt all over the place. "I'm so sorry!" Imad's sister went to go and get a towel. "I'm sorry. I can't do anything right! How am I meant to look after my husband when I-"

"Hey! Hasna, it's okay!" Imad knelt beside me. "Hey, stop crying. Stop it, Hasna. You are a wonderful person. Not only should a wife look after her husband, but the husband should look his wife. I'll take care of you, okay? So what if you're in a wheelchair?" He held my hand tightly and smiled at me. "I love you and I'm gonna take care of you. That's my promise to you."

"I'm sorry-"

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. Now stop crying." He squeezed my hand before letting go. "Stop it." I wiped the tears off my face and breathed out heavily. Abbu gave me a kiss on the head and sat back in his seat.

We talked for the next thirty minutes before deciding to do the nikah next week and the wedding a little bit after that. When Aunty called everyone for lunch, Imad walked behind the chair and took off the breaks.