LOVE TRIALS

xv

Is it the weekend, yet? 💀

🥀

As it has been said:
Love and a cough cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.

🥀

Sophia rubbed her eyes, the streak of light peeking from the gap in the curtains had awakened her.

She glanced at the clock and muffled a groan of annoyance, it was almost 1 p.m. and she was still abed. She threw the covers and rose from the bed. Quickly freshened, Sophia exited the room in search of her husband and three years old son.

Their hushed laughter beckoned her closer to her father in law's room.

She took a peep, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Far too many times on weekends, she had found the duo as they were with Hamza sprawled on the bed and Ardashir dangling from the edge of the bed in front of his father, both laid on their stomachs.

Hassan Omer was nowhere to be seen.

Ardashir talked gibberish, animatedly as Hamza gave him his full attention.

"Assalamualaikum," She interrupted them after a full minute.

"Mummy!"

A moment later, little Ardashir was hugging her legs, urging her to pull him into her arms as Hamza turned on his back and folded an arm under his head to have a better look at her, he outstretched the free hand towards her.

"WalaikumAssalam. Afternoon," He greeted, his smile mirrored hers as Sophia encouraged Ardashir to grasp his father's large hand into his tiny ones.

Ardashir grunted with a peal of laughter when he successfully pulled heavy Hamza into a sitting position.

"Put me Down," Ardashir spoke and Sophia obliged. She settled him on his feet, he picked his fluffy toy from the bed and ran out of the room, dressed only in diapers for pants and a creased shirt.

Sophia shook her and straightened. "Breakfast?"

"We have already eaten," Hamza closed his eyes, momentarily. His head tilted back when she pushed her hand in his hair. "Yours is on the table." He told her, regarding her from under his eyelashes, he clasped his hands in his lap before they wandered to the dip in her waist.

"Baba?"

"He's in the washroom," Hamza said, glancing in the direction as he pulled her down to sit beside himself. He sat alert, Hassan might call him anytime.

Hassan's knees had given up on him. At times, he had difficulty rising from the toilet seat. Hassan Omer had weakened, terribly in the past few years for no apparent reason other than he had aged. Everyday. He had lost weight, his gaunt cheeks haunted Hamza. His receding hairline was no more, he was nearly bald. Hassan had been as tall as his son, now hunched, he only came up to his shoulders.

Hamza's heart ached, his shoulders drew together.

He refused to think and yet, the thought invaded his mind with vengeful savagery.

Their time together was coming to an end.

"Baba, Assalamualaikum, " Sophia stood, quickly when Hassan came out of the washroom. She hooked their arms as she would with her father and walked with him to the bed. "Do you want anything? Can I bring you something?"