The Nearest Heaven ✔️

Part 28 - Lonely

AN: Assalaamu Alaykum everyone. 

This chapter is a bit ... heavy. It deals with some really dark stuff. Please be advised. Stop reading if you cannot handle it and feel free to message me about what happens - if you cannot handle reading further. 

Best read with some comfort food. xx

Part 28 – Lonely

"And I have never been disappointed in my prayer to You, my Lord."

~Surah Maryam, verse 4.

Faraaz had watched Fadiyah over the last two days since they had found her. She had spent almost four hours at the police station the day that they had tracked her down and by the time that they went home, Fadiyah had been too tired to talk to him. He had seen the way she tried to be cheery and happy for his sake, but he was not fooled by her bleak and shallow smiles. She had offered to prepare for them food but was beaten to it by Waqqaar who had come to serve them soup with fresh, warm Portuguese rolls. Even though she smiled and thanked Waqqaar profusely for the food, Faraaz observed how she fidgeted and wiggled awkwardly, as if she didn't know how she wanted to speak her mind.

So, Faraaz leaped at the opportunity and asked her if there was something that she wanted to do before she ate. With a shy blush, she looked at the floor as she answered that she wanted to shower.

The next forty-eight hours passed by in a similar fashion, with Fadiyah avoiding Faraaz at every chance she could – as well as everyone else in the house – and her uncomfortably shying away from opposing anything she felt uneasy doing. As much as he wanted her to sit and open up to him about what had happened to her, he knew that he could not force her to talk to him. It made Faraaz feel like a failure that he could not help her, but he constantly made dua for her.

At night, Fadiyah would sleep in her old room, and despite how much he hated it, he heard her waking up at night and screaming, then slowly, he would hear her gulps and hiccup as she tried to get her breathing under control. Being immobile, he was repulsed by the fact that he could not go to her and comfort her. Listening to her as she poured her soul out at night, Faraaz silently cried along with her for not being able to walk to her, carry her in his arms and bring her to their bed as he rearranges them to sit comfortably on the bed with her between his legs as he bends his body over hers, cocooning her as she cried. It killed him every morning to pretend that he did not hear her cry herself to sleep.

"Assalaamu alaykum, Faraaz," she murmured as she walked into the room on the third day of her being at home.

He stretched his neck to see her better and his face split into a broad smile. "Wa alaykumusalaam, my little Kitten." His eyes that had missed the sight of her, followed her around the room as she opened his curtains. Fadiyah was dressed in a pair of navy jeans and a black, oversized jersey and a simple black scarf rapped around her head. Her skin looked sullen, she had half-moons underneath her eyes and was far too skinny after not eating.

A racing heart had him wondering if he should break her bubble and force her to talk about what she had endured. He loved her, but he didn't want to disturb her peace. Faraaz wanted to know what had happened to her so he could protect her further, so that he could know how to shield her. "Basimah," he called gently. "Will you talk to me today?"

Her hands had stilled as she prepared to open the curtain. The tie-back still dangled awkwardly in her hand, the rope weight feeling heavy. "It wasn't something easy for me," she whispered.