The Nearest Heaven ✔️

Part 33 - Love Punishes Us

Part 33 – Love Punishes Us

"Indeed, with every hardship is ease."

~ Surah Al- Inshirah, verse 6.

As things in Faraaz and Fadiyah's household seemed to settle, it was disrupted all by one single phone call. The court date was set for Ilham and Rasheed. They were to be tried for attempted murder, abduction and assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm. Fadiyah's heart stopped as Faraaz told her the news.

"Love," he whispered softly as he pushed her hair out of her face in gentle, uneven strokes. "I don't know how to tell you this..."

When his dark eyes met her understanding brown ones, he knew that she had an inkling of what he was going to say. He hated that she knew him so well, he hated that she was so comforting without saying a word. He hated that she understood when he hadn't even said what the news was. How could one, single human be that assuring that she caught on to his unsaid words?

Why did Fadiyah have to be such an amazing person? Had she had at least one cruel bone in her, he could have spoken freely, but how was he supposed to hurt her? Why did he have to be the one to punish her? Why did he have to break her healing heart?

Fadiyah was the only person who could understand his mumbled words. Hell, she was the only one who understood words that weren't even spoken. He knew that this news would only make her feel worse. The one fact that ate at his heart was the fact that he would have to be the one to hurt his wife. His beautiful, innocent, delicate wife.

"Rasheed and Ilham will be standing for trial tomorrow morning." His words were rushed out and unclear, but he witnessed the moment Fadiyah processed them.

The cute, innocent smile that she wore slowly dulled down until there was no longer a smile on her face. She began frowning, her eyes focused on her hands that were instantly fisting her shirt. Faraaz watched her with hawk-eyed precision, taking note of the way she seemed to steadily close herself off from the world. He could see that she was shutting down and throwing up her iron walls by the way her head hung low and the way that her dainty shoulders were curled in. Her chest heaved with the short, loud and raspy breaths she took in.

Feeling useless that he couldn't do more for her, Faraaz threaded his fingers through her hand that was closest to him, despite that she held her hands in a tight fist on her heart. "I know, love, that this isn't ideal. I know that this is hurtful and terrifying for you, but I want you to know that I am right here with you, Fadiyah. I will be with you every step of the way."

With their entwined hands, he applied a light pressure, hoping to convey that he was still there for her. For as long as she wanted him. For as long as she needed him, because the one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that Fadiyah was the only one that he could envision his life with. She was his absolute end. There could be no other woman for him to have as a wife.

He knew that for a Muslim, believing and obedient slave, Allah had created the Hoor-al-'Ayn as a reward for their good deeds and patience in the worldly life but he could not imagine one of them comparing to his Fadiyah. It was a fact that they would be beautiful, breathtakingly so, but how could they measure up to Fadiyah?

Fadiyah, his wife who was endearingly patient, supportive to the extent that she would rather suffer in silence than speak out, and so loving that she would do anything to see Aaban smile. Her love spoke volumes about her personality. She was self-less, more caring than she had a right to be, lovable beyond what words could describe and more beautiful than anyone else he had ever met.

Her beauty had far less to do with her external features, but rather her internal qualities which shone brightly. The complete faith that she had in Allah. It was strong, unwavering, unshaking and resolute in way that he could never comprehend. To say that he was embarrassed of that realisation would be a lie, because he looked at her for inspiration and held her up as a role model. How could he ever be ashamed to say that she was the reason behind his sudden thirst for Islamic knowledge? She was a well of knowledge that he was eager to drink from.