Story cover for Written in Dua, Met in Qadr 📿🤍 by journeywithaliz
Written in Dua, Met in Qadr 📿🤍
  • Reads 192
  • Votes 21
  • Parts 5
  • Time 27m
  • Reads 192
  • Votes 21
  • Parts 5
  • Time 27m
Ongoing, First published Jul 10
🌌🌙
Liyana Aliz had loved Rayyan all her life - not loudly, but in silent prayers, buried deep in sujood. He was her cousin, her first love, her quiet heartbreak. A love she never touched, never tainted - always halal, always distant. When he finally heard her truth, he gently handed her heart back to Allah... asking Him to send someone who'd love her more than she ever loved him.

Just when she tried to let go, when her hands were trembling with grief but lifted in surrender - a name she'd followed for years began to bloom in her story. Not in her world, but in her du'a.
Mohammed Taym - a soul she didn't know, yet one who somehow felt written into the margins of her life.

This isn't a story of moving on.
This is a story of moving closer - to Allah, to love, to the one written in Qadr.
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He was waiting outside the OP, there for his student who had been injured during a fight over a phone. As he sat, casually glancing at his own phone, he suddenly heard the faint sound of a baby crying. Curious, he turned toward the sound-and froze. There, outside the pediatric care unit, sat his wife with their son crying in her arms. His heart ached-it had been months since he last saw his son. His gaze shifted to his wife, gently consoling the child. Her face looked tired, pale, and completely drained. Without a second thought, he stood, tears welling in his eyes. Each step he took felt heavy, his chest tightening with every cry from his son. As he neared, he saw her clothes were faded and worn. Her feet were bare, hardened from walking-clearly straight from the farm. His heart clenched. His eyes moved to his son-he had grown so much. She was so focused on calming the baby that she didn't notice him at first. Tears filled her eyes as she held their feverish child close. He softly called her name. Startled, she looked up-and froze. Then she quickly lowered her gaze and tried to get up. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She sat back down, turning her face away, quietly wiping her tears. He reached out to take their son. The moment he held him, he felt the heat-his little body was burning with fever. A chill ran through him. After all these months, seeing his child like this was unbearable. He loved his wife and son deeply, but his loyalty to his mother-and obedience to her word-always came first. Between a mother who owned his soul and a wife who held his heart, he was a man torn in a cruel war of love and loyalty. And she-she had given her all to a promise whispered beneath the sacred fire... never knowing that one day, she'd be holding her child, with nothing but a faded vow.
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