Halaal Love

Chapter 26

Habibah's POV

I've done my examinations about a week ago, leaving fate back to Allah. Even though I'm married and I should focus more on my husband, I can't help wanting my own ambition to become true. I wanted to be a psychologist, and I always do. I know it'd be hard for me to manange my time as a wife and a psychologist, but again, my career is a career, and my relationship is a relationship. None of them can come in my way to prevent myself from being someone I've always wanted to be.

I really hope my grades would come out as All A. If I can be one of The Achievers, I'd automatically be in the top 10 students of the psychology who'd be able to work in the hospitals in here or even to other countries. But...Wallahua'alam Bi Shawwab.

Today, Omar comes earlier than usual and immediately focuses back on his work, that is, checking the papers. Since I took psychology as major, I didn't take any other subjects for examination. However, I'd still be graded for my tests and homeworks.

I dry off my hands using the small towel, after I wash the dishes. The clicking sound of the pot takes over my attention. I pull the couple cup from one of the drawers and begin to prepare tea for Omar and I, and right after I pour the hot water from the pot, I stir the both of the tea and leave to the living room along with the two cups in my grips.

I kneel down, placing the cups on the table and plop down on the couch beside Omar. Seeing him moving his gaze back and forth from the answer paper to the question paper makes my head hurt as well. I touch the both of his hands, stopping his movements almost immediately.

"What?"He questions sleepily, his prominent eye-bags cause a pitiful feeling to rise in me.

"You can do it later. Considering the fact that you have to submit the results on next Monday, you still have five more days."I smile encouragingly, caressing his knuckles.

"I just want to finish it tonight."

"You don't have to be in rush, Omar. Just take it slow. You're killing yourself too. Look at your eyebags. Your eyes are like literally popping out of the sockets."He huffs, nodding.

"Fine. I'll take a rest and continue this tomorrow."I nod my head with a smile.

We spend the rest of the night, drinking the tea with crackers while staring at the moon from the balcony. At around an hour before the midnight, we head back inside to our bedroom and drift off to sleep as the next morning awaits.

•••

My eyes flutter open as soon as I feel the coldness of the room seeping in through my body. I sit up straight searching for the blanket while hugging myself tightly, shivering from the chilly temperature.

I grab the AC remote control from the teable, finding myself lost in thoughts. Who turned the temperature to 19°c?

"Omar? Omar?"I shout for his name, but there isn't any reply. I sigh and stand up from the bed, tying my hair in a bun before heading downstairs. He must be there, checking the papers.

As true as my words, he's sitting in the kitchen on one of the stools with a glass of whatsoever it is on his right hand and a paper on his left. I smile, knowing how hard he works, just to make a living for our family. I realize, nothing turns into a waste when it comes to loving someone who always reminds you of your God.

"If I can check the papers, I'd help you out. Sadly, I'm one of the students too."

"It's alright. Just a few more are left."I nod, taking a seat beside him. Through these times, I've never really watched his face thoroughly, taking in all the breath-taking features of his handsome face. But now, I do so. I stare at his beautiful cream face. His jaws are sharp naturally, making him look younger than his age. His thick brows are always happy, never knitted together to form a frown. His eyelashes, long, beautiful and curvy, while his hazel coloured eyes add a mesmerizing feature to his face. His cheekbones are slightly sharp, which make him look more handsome. But even so, there's one thing that always make me repeat Hamdalah(Alhamdulillah/Praise be to Allah): his beard. It seems weird, but it's not. He makes me happy just by knowing that he follows our Prophet (صلى الله عليه و سلم).

"Staring is creepy, Habibi."I blush, tilting my head to the side as soon as the words leave his mouth. He drops his pen and the paper, "I know I'm pretty, but you don't need to-"

"Omar! I was not staring."

"Wallahi? Lying is bad for you."I stick out my tongue in reply.

"Whatever."I end the conversation timidly, getting up to get back to the bedroom and get a shower. Although, it seems to be only a thought as Omar grabs my arm in sudden, causing myself to lose the balance and land on him. I groan at him. "Are you out of your mind or what?"

"I am. Who doesn't lose his own mind when seeing a beautiful angel?"I begin to feel my cheeks warming up when I hear him saying so. Though I stand up from him and head back to the bedroom anyway.

•••

A week ago, Omar promised me that he'd take me to the mall after I've done my examination. Well, to Fun City, precisely. I sound childish, but Fun City is a kingdom to everyone, no matter how old you are.

And of course, as he promised, he takes me to the mall. He buys two hundred coins for games, dividing it into half for the both of us. For the first time in my life, I enjoy a lot playing at Fun City without caring what people think about me. We laugh and tease each other while playing games, just like any other couple who enjoy themselves being in love. And trust me, when I say marriage is more romantic than a relationship, it truly is.

"Goal!"I scream happily as the basketball lands inside the basket. Omar grumbles, refusing to accept his defeat. I nudge his arm, signaling him. "Remember the promise! The one who loses has to buy anything that the winner wants."

"Fine fine. M'lady, what do you want?"He bows down like a servant serving his master. I only chortle at him.

"I was joking. Let's just have lunch together!"I beam, clapping my hands together in a happy way. He smiles at me, nodding.

Omar's POV

We head out from Fun City to the food court. Through the time we are walking to the food court, I notice how the smile never leaves Habibah's face. She may not be as beautiful as a model, having a flat, thin body, but her heart is bigger than any girl's heart. I've made her embarrassed from living in a small flat, I've made her suffer from choosing between my brother and I, and I've made her cried from what happened between Reese and I-and seeing the smile on Habibah's face, I don't want to wipe it away with grief anymore. It's been enough for Habibah to be in a great confusion and sadness.

"Omar?"She disenchants me from my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine."She doesn't seem to buy it, but tries to believe. She shrugs and tows up the corners of her mouth. She entangles her arm with mines, snuggling to me. I smile.

We arrive at the food court and begin to choose the seat while Habibah leaves to queu to order food. I finally find a seat near to the second pillar on the left side. My eyes wander searching for Habibah, and when I find her standing on the queu of Mongolia, a relief rushes through me.

I take out my phone and open the Qur'an, reading it silently, as everything around me become a blur and my heart warms at the name of Allah.

"O-Omar?"I snap up my head to meet her. My eyes become wider, seeing the figure standing in front of me.

"Ra-Ra'eesa?"I stutter, afraid to say anything else. Flash backs of the past rush through me in a swift. "What are you doing here?"

"I just saw you here. How are you?"She smiles. I really want to tell her that we can't communicate anymore no matter what, because I'm married and it's clearly mot good for a man to communicate with a woman. Especially with the fact that now she's married too.

"Alhamdulillah. Ra'eesa, I'm sorry but-"

"Don't worry. I understand. I just pass by to greet you, so Assalamualaikum."

"Waalaikumsalaam."

"Omar, I just want to ask you-that even though we're both married, we still can be friends right?"Her question makes my heart skip a beat. What should I reply? I don't want to hurt her, but I can't be her friend. It won't end good.

"I don't real-"

"Omar! Look at these cute chicken sush-"Habibah trails off as soon as she spots Ra'eese with me. The tray that she holds is also splatter on the floor already. "Not again..."I hear her whisper under her breath, before turning her heels away.

"Habibah! Habibah!"I walk away, not caring about Ra'eesa's feeling anymore. I'm in trouble, I hiss.