Salaaaam, my very loyal, patient readers :D

A very belated Ramadan Mubarak! Hope you have all been reaping the rewards of this amazing month! 

It's been 23 days since I've updated and I have never felt so bad! To make up for it, this chapter is SUPER LONG and I really do hope you guys enjoy it. Make sure you comment and vote, you all know I take your comments to heart :) 

Also, thanks for all the well-wishes on the last chapter. Alhamdulillah the operation went well and I am now fully recovered! 

This chapter is dedicated to my dad. I love him with all my heart <3 

Just a hadith I would like to put out there:

Abdullah Ibn 'Umar saw a Yemeni man circumambulating the Ka'bah in Mecca while carrying his mother on his back. This man said to Abdullah Ibn 'Umar, "I am like a tame camel for her! I have carried her more than she carried me. Do you think I have paid her back, oh Ibn 'Umar?"

Abdullah Ibn 'Umar replied, "No, you did not even pay her one contraction!"

#Chapter Thirty Five#

Samir pulled aside the curtain and groaned audibly. "I knew it!" 

 Since I was still hanging off Ziad's shoulder, I lifted my head with great difficulty to peer at him over my billowing jilbab. I wiped away some of my tears and swallowed. "What is it?" 

 "Paps have taken over the front entrance," Samir answered with a sigh. "The guards are trying to push them away but I know they're not going to leave without a few snaps of us."

 "I'll get more guards outside," Ahmad said, fiddling with a device in his ear. 

"You can't be seen like this habibti," khalto directed at me. Ziad reluctantly placed me back down on my feet and I swayed slightly as all the blood left my face. "You'll have to change." 

Not having the energy to argue, I nodded my head slowly and reached out for the bag that was in Samir's hand. 

My brothers exchanged a look with one another.

"I'm not going to lock myself up in the room again, if that's what you're worried about," I said dryly, glancing between them. 

"Are you sure about that?" Samir asked cautiously. 

"Oh just give her the bag will you?!" khalto snapped impatiently, ripping it from his hands and placing it in my own awaiting ones. She flicked her blonde hair in frustration and shook her head at my brothers. 

"Thank you." I moved to leave the room, sensing my brothers eyes watching me like a hawk. Not wanting to delay the inevitable any further, I quickly got dressed in a navy skirt and white blouse. I wrapped a tan, black and blue patterned hijab around my head and pulled on some black flats. 

I was surprised the clothes actually matched. In my haste to leave the house that night, I was barely aware of what I was throwing into my bag.I had brought no make up with me, so I'd just have to walk out looking like one of the casts from the next horror story. I didn't even have sunglasses that I could use to cover the bags beneath my eyes. 

 Satisfied that I looked at least semi-human again, I made my way back to the entrance where everyone was still waiting by the door. 

"I'll come by and visit you tomorrow, OK?" khalto said as she rubbed my arm. 

I nodded my head. "Sorry for being a burden this past week. I know it wasn't easy having me around, moping away in the room..."

"Don't apologise silly girl," she was quick to reprimand me. She pulled me in for a hug. "I'm always here for you, you know that." 

I smiled into her shoulder. "Love you khalto." 

"Love you too habibti." She sighed and pulled away, nudging me in the direction of my brothers. "Go on then, don't keep your father waiting." 

I frowned at that, but nonetheless, prepared myself to the leave the house. Samir and Ziad hugged khalto and mumbled their salams before turning to open the door. I took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on my face, knowing the camera's would flash almost immediately. I saw my brothers do the same.Unsurprisingly, questions were hurled at us in loud yells. 

 "Sameena, why were you staying at your aunties place for a full week?!" 

 "Miss Ahmad, our sources observed that you haven't left this place once since arriving. Why is that?!"

 "Samir, when will you be returning to your studies?"

 "When will you be launching your next campaign?!" 

 "Where is your fiancé Miss Ahmad?!" 

 "When is the wedding?!" 

The more questions they asked, the more I felt myself becoming overwhelmed. Ziad and Samir basically threw me into the car and they were quick to lock the doors after the guards filed in. I let out a breath I didn't even realise I was holding. 

Tariq. 

The name brought with it such conflicting emotions but before I could even allow my thoughts to wander in such a depressing direction, the car lurched forward violently and Ziad put one arm across my stomach in an attempt to stop me from flying headfirst. 

"Sorry!" the driver yelled with an apologetic expression before pushing up the window that divided us and the front of the car. 

 After that, the ride home was relatively silent. My brothers didn't speak to me, only murmuring quietly to each other once in a while. Ahmad and Omar were sitting in the back seat of the limo with us and I could feel them occasionally look over at me worriedly. After Salem, they were the two guards who not only I, but our family trusted the most and it wasn't unusual for us to see and treat each other like family.

I gave them a reassuring smile, more for their sake than mine, then continued to stare out of the window like I had been for the last twenty minutes. The slow hum of the engine coupled with the soft Qur'an playing in the background soothed me despite the current situation. That didn't mean however, that I wasn't still anxious to go home. I leaned my head back against the glass, my eyes jumping from one object to another, when someone caught my interest. 

Conveniently, we were at a red light so I sat up straight to look more closely. 

 An old man clad in only a dirty beige button-down top and loose fitting pants was sitting outside a corner shop, his dog asleep by his outstretched legs. He had a small bag with him and - from what I could see - a measly amount of items were in it. A rotting container shined against the sunlight, begging for people to lend it even a dollar. But what really caught my eye was the large booming smile on the mans face as he watched hundreds of people walk past him. 

His lips were moving but from the car, I couldn't make out what he was saying. The light turned green and the car accelerated. "Stop the car!" I exclaimed hurriedly, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"What? Why?" Ziad asked in confusion.

"Is everything OK?" Ahmad asked alertly and I just nodded my head.

"Tell him to park by that shop." The questioning look didn't leave their faces. Ahmad reluctantly knocked on the window and told the driver to turn back around. Within seconds we had parked and I jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped and made my way over to the man slowly. 

As I got closer to him, I heard what he was saying. 

 "Asalamu alaikum, have a blessed day!" 

 "Today is Friday, don't forget to go home and read Surah Kahf!"

 "Asalamu alaikum, have a blessed day!" 

 This time a real, genuine smile took over my face. I watched him in something akin to awe as he continued to greet passerby's, weaving in a reminder or two every few seconds. Working men and women barely spared him a glance as they returned to their jobs after a late lunch. Some glanced at him with sympathy, some reciprocating the smile and salam and some...with curiosity. 

 When he felt my burning gaze on him he turned around and his smile grew even larger, if possible. "Asalamu alaikum binti!" 

 I beamed and walked over to sit next to him. "Wa alaikum asalam 'amu." I looked at his sleeping dog cautiously. 

 "Ah, don't worry about him. Sleeps all day poor thing, this heat, it's too much," he said when he saw my expression. 

 "Aren't you hot?" I asked. Even though he was sitting under the shade, today's heat was almost unbearable as we were now in the peak of Summer and no amount of shade could stop the hot winds from whipping our body. I was already sweating and I could feel water droplets accumulating at the edge of my hijab. 

 "What's a little bit of heat eh?"

 I raised one eyebrow. "Little bit?!" 

 He chuckled heartily. "I say, you younger fellows are too weak!"

 I smiled warmly at him and assessed his appearance and surroundings one more time. "'amu, do you stay here all day?"

 "Indeed, I do," he said. There was a moment of silence as I felt a heavy weight settle on my heart. I simply stared at him as he turned around and continued to cheerily greet people, occasionally petting his sleeping dog who only stretched its long limbs in acknowledgement.

 "What happened?" I blurted out. 

He stopped and turned to me in confusion. "Young girl, you don't make sense." 

"What happened to you that you ended up here, on the streets?" With any other person, this question might have pushed the boundary but this poor man seemed more than willing to speak to someone and despite his happy attitude, I sensed a resigned sort of sadness in his demeanour. The guards and my brothers were waiting for me, in fact I could see them watching me from their posts. I knew they were a little impatient but I would never forgive myself if I just left him here without speaking to him. Everybody has a story and everybody's story deserves to be listened to. 

The old man seemed bewildered at my question but then composed himself. "It's not a happy story love, I'll spare you the details." 

"Please, I insist." So with a lot of persistence and friendly arguing, I forced the old man up and helped him into an air-conditioned cafe. His fragile body shook a little as he walked but he was strong and after he had seated himself, he rested his limbs against the table and looked at his surroundings with a small smile. A few frowns and objections were made by the manager when he saw him walk in but once he saw me and my brothers it was replaced with a fake smile and I had the urge to roll my eyes.

 Of course, I didn't.

"Can one of you watch his dog outside?" I asked the eight guards standing before me. Yes, eight. After Isaac and learning about Al-Ghorban's rekindled interest in our family, security was no longer a joke of two to three guards. 

"Not a chance. All of us have to be with you. Strict orders."I huffed and threw an annoyed glance at Ahmad.

"Fine, the dog stays inside." 

 "The manager doesn't look too happy about that. Nor do the customers," Omar observed. 

"I could care less!" They grinned as I sped off back to the table. I returned to find Ziad asking a very crucial question. 

"'amu what is your name?" 

 "Karim." 

Typical me to forget to ask what his name was!

I made myself comfortable next to Samir. He smiled at me, his gentle features warm as usual and I returned the gesture. Although I was still upset with as I was with Ziad, his smile eased the fire in my heart.He opened and closed his mouth and I waited for him to speak. "Sameena...don't take this the wrong way, what you're doing here is great...but you know we still need to be home soon." 

 I understood the underlying meaning. "I'm not stalling for time Samir. I know baba is waiting at home and that this issue needs to be sorted but this is also important," I semi-whispered, so 'amu Karim wouldn't hear. 

His smile grew and he shook his head. "I didn't say you were stalling for time. I'm just reminding you as I can see that fiery determination in your eyes and for all I know, we could be here for hours." 

"I promise this won't take that long." I patted his knee and faced the two men before me. 

"'amu order whatever you want." 

 He shook his head. "No ya binti, I could not impose on you like that." 

I wondered at the softness of his heart. "Tell me, in our culture when someone extends an invitation, is it not rude to reject?" 

He chuckled heartily. "Yes, yes it is." 

"Then order otherwise I'll be compelled to do it for you!" 

He sighed in defeat and after we all ordered our food, we sat back to listen to the tale this old man had to tell us.  "Alhamdulillah that you children aren't living under the same conditions we did fifty or sixty years ago. I used to live in the city of Hebron only an hours drive from here." He sighed and scratched at his begrimed face, the wrinkles crinkling up with the memories that were plaguing him. "Up until I was five years old, I had a wonderful childhood. I still remember walking down the bustling roads and nibbling on my father's camel burger; we were famous for them you know. I would hold his hand loosely, always wanting to squirm away to play with one of the flying kites, neon lights or other cool gadget the kids of the neighbourhood would whip up." I smiled at that and he continued. "I lived on Shuhada street, the most travelled and popular street in our city. Years later, it was filled with Israeli soldiers, Zionist settlers, police and packs of fighting dogs. Checkpoints and surveillance cameras were our worst nightmares. They wanted to remind us at every point in time; we were being watched."

 A grim mood fell over the table. 'Amu Karim waited for the waiter to place the food in front of us before continuing with his story, three avid listeners anticipating the rest of his story. "Of course, all of this began affecting our way of life. Some people were killed, some lost their jobs, some got depressed and resources depleted. What was once the brightest place in our eyes slowly dwindled to a painful realisation that we were living under occupation and there was almost nothing we could do about it." He shook his head sadly. "One day, I think I was about ten or eleven then, my parents told me to pack my bags because they were going to take me to see my friend Rami. At first I was elated but then I noticed my parents packing away all their special belongings in large backpacks and I got suspicious. When my mother came into the room and shoved some clothes, my passport and birth certificate in my bag, I knew something was not right. I questioned them, but they just gave me vague responses."

I didn't like where this story was going and I could see the raw pain in 'amu eyes now. My heart was shattering for him and he hadn't even finished his story. "My friend Rami happened to live in an orphanage and so they took me there with reluctant steps. Throughout the fifteen minute walk my parents kept on glancing at me with agony in their eyes and I was so confused. They were each grasping one hand tightly and at one point I think my hand actually went numb. Once we reached the orphanage doors, they stopped abruptly and no one said a word to each other. I looked at them expectantly and finally, after a few minutes of them staring at the floor, my parents knelt down in front of me and I was surprised to see the smile lighting up their faces. I could sense their uneasiness and I knew it was fake, even as a ten year old child. They told me how proud they were of me and how much they loved me. They said that no son could ever be as caring and respectful to his parents as I was. Then they..." the words died on his lips and he cleared his throat. We all remained quiet and gave him the time he needed. "Then they left and that was the last time I ever saw my parents," he finished with a reminiscent smile. 

 I gasped. "The last time ever?" 

 How was he smiling?! 

 'Amu nodded. 

 "Where did they go?" Ziad asked with a frown. 

"I found out a week later, that they had left the city all together to try and find some work. They sent one of their friends to check up on me and when I asked him why my parents left me here, he gave me a pitiful smile and told me that my parents had no finances to keep on supporting me. I knew that we were not well off, but I didn't realise how bad. They left me in a place where I was guaranteed shelter and food. Apparently there plan was to find work, save and become stable again...only then would they come back for me." 

"Oh Allah..." I whispered. "That's heartbreaking." 

 "So they just left you?!" Ziad exclaimed. 

 'Amu smiled and patted Ziad's elbow. "My boy, do not get so worked up. I have forgiven them."

 "Why?" Samir asked the question that was on the tip of my tongue. 

 "Why? I'll tell you why." He linked his hands together and looked at each one of us in the eyes. "Who held you for nine months in their womb and stayed up all night twisting and turning in discomfort? Who gave birth to you in pain? Who helped support you when you were growing older and was your backbone for development? Who pushed you to be the very best you can? Who taught you morals and humanity? Who taught you how to smile? Who struggled the most with you? And who loved you the most in this world?" 

 'Amu's words cut through me like a knife through a cake. Shame, guilt and disappointment welled up within me and I was no longer able to hold eye contact with him. With watery eyes, I stared at the floor and swiped away a tear before anyone could see it. 

"I don't care who you think you are or how much your parents have wronged you because believe me when I say this; they only ever wrong you for the best of reasons. No one will have your best interest at heart like your parents. Of course not all guardians are like this but mine were and I'm sure yours are too. I'm also not saying forgiveness is easy. Do you know how long it took me to forgive my parents? Fifteen years. Ya Allah, how angry I was at them especially throughout my teen and adult years. But with life comes experience and with experience comes knowledge and finally after knowledge, is wisdom and piety. I turned to Allah when I had no one left and he opened my heart. Forgiveness is everything I know now." 

 "Tabarak Allah, masha'Allah..." Samir whispered and I saw the tears in his eyes too. Ziad was thoughtfully looking at the floor, lost in a world of his own after hearing 'amu's words. 

 "So why didn't they come back to you? What happened?" I asked, my voice coming out low and soft."They were murdered by Israeli settlers only a month later," he croaked out, rubbing at his eyes. He looked and sounded so old, so fragile, so broken when he said that, that I actually felt the blood drain from my face in sadness. 

 "Oh 'amu, I'm so sorry." 

"At least I know that as martyrs, my parents will hopefully be in the best of places." 

 "Insha'Allah 'amu." 

 Then, we ate in silence.

 #### 

 "I don't care who you think you are or how much your parents have wronged you because believe me when I say this; they only ever wrong you for the best of reasons." 

 This one sentence was on repeat in my mind throughout the next hour. We had dropped 'amu off at an empty apartment that we promised we would rent out for him and after ordering a guard to tend to all and every necessity he would need, we left him to finally return home. 

There was no doubt that the old man had impacted me in more than one way and I couldn't help but feel like Allah had sent him to me on this exact day. I mean, what were the chances? 

 The phrase replayed itself as we pulled up at our house and at this point I had a headache. My mind was conflicted and I was lost. How do I treat baba now? Should I forgive him or keep things distant until I sorted out my doubts? 

I sighed tiredly.

 I opened the door and heaved the duffel bag onto my shoulder, declining Ahmad's kind offer of bringing it inside for me. I waited anxiously for one of the him to open up our front door. I didn't realise how tense I was until my twin grasped my fisted hand and slowly unfolded it. "Everything will be alright Sameena." He beamed at me and I allowed myself to seek confidence in his smile. 

After a week, I finally walked inside my home and the first thing I did was savour the familiar smell and homey feel of the place. As much as I didn't want to admit it to myself, I missed this place.I dropped my duffel bag on the floor by the door and subconsciously turned to make my way up the steps when I paused and turned back to my brothers. 

They smiled at me. 

 "He's in the living room." 

I took a deep breath and slowly made my way there. 

When I first entered, it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Then I saw the blaring light emanating off the T.V.Then I saw my father sprawled across the couch and my breath caught in my throat as suddenly, all feelings of conflict, all feelings of being 'lost' were no longer as my eyes landed on him. 

He was wearing khaki checkered pyjama pants and a black plain tee. Over his legs a blanket had been thrown haphazardly and the light illuminated his face that now looked like it had aged ten years. His mouth was turned down grimly and a crinkle was evident between his eyebrows. 

 But what stuck me the most was the sadness in his eyes, that I could see even from this angle.

An involuntary sob escaped my lips and my father's head lifted off the pillow slightly to see who was at the entrance. When his eyes landed on me, they widened in surprise and his whole figure almost shook as he sat up properly. 

"Sameena?" he asked in a raspy voice. 

And just like that, my decision had been made. 

I ran towards my father and immediately, he had me engulfed in his arms as I sobbed relentlessly.

 "Baba, I-I," I tried to speak but I couldn't form words over the sobs that were escaping me. 

"Shh habibti, I know, I know." He kissed my forehead and patted my back soothingly. 

"I'm s-so sorry." I heard him take in a shaky breath. 

"I am too Sameena. I am too." He pulled me away from his chest and held my face in his warm hands.

 "Do you forgive me?" 

 I broke even further. 

 My father was asking for my forgiveness. 

"The question is do you forgive me?" I managed to speak. 

I was shocked to hear him chuckling. He kissed my forehead again. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet daughter. May Allah SWT protect you always." He looked down. "I know you must still be upset and need some time but-," 

"No baba, I don't. I'm sorry for the way I reacted. It was upsetting and I could've handled the situation better but as always, I let my emotions get the best of me." I played with my hands and avoided eye contact. "Mama would have been so ashamed of me if she saw how I reacted," I whispered. 

"I'm sure that if your mother was here right now, she'd be the proudest parent on Earth. Like I am right now." I looked up into his smiling face with watery eyes. "You have such a strong yet soft heart habibti and you get that from your mother, one hundred percent. I'm sorry I didn't see the potential in you from before, I'm sorry I wasn't the greatest father, I'm sorry-," 

"Stop apologising!" I exclaimed. "Baba, you're the best and I thank Allah everyday that I still have you in my life." I hugged him tightly again and he was quiet for a long time after that. I sat next to him on the couch and gave him the space he needed. 

I felt much lighter now. The worst feeling in the world is when you are on horrible terms with your parents. Now that the air had been cleared, mostly anyway, I felt tranquility settle on my heart and I knew deep down that I had done the right thing by forgiving baba. 

 "Sameena, what are we going to do?" baba whispered anxiously. 

 "What do you mean?"

"The country is in uproar at the moment over the taxes that Isaac convinced me to issue. Our economic success is dwindling. We've tracked a number of rebellion groups rising, especially Al Ghorban. The people aren't happy and the parliament is threatening for an election soon if I don't clean up this mess. I just can't think straight anymore." He turned to me with determined eyes, as if I held all the solutions to his problems. 

"Sameena...will you help me?" 

 #### 

 I mustered up all the courage left within me and rung the doorbell on the large wooden door. I stepped back and nervously toyed with my bag, waiting not so patiently for someone to open. After a few seconds, I heard footsteps getting closer and my heart felt like it was going to explode. 

 Samir calmly stood beside me. 

 "Sameena?!" It was only when I heard khalto's voice that I looked up. I was met with a pair of eyes staring at me in surprise but also a mixture of relief and happiness. "Come in, come in!" 

 "Asalamu alaikum," Samir and I said at the same time as we stepped foot into the house. I kissed khalto three times on the cheek and there was a bit of an awkward silence before she grabbed me by the elbow and led me to the living room. "Come and sit down darling, you too Samir." 

 We followed closely and I was sweating profusely now. "JazakAllahu khair." 

 "To what do I owe this pleasure?" khalto asked. 

"Well, erm...I haven't seen you in quite a while and um, I thought it rude that I hadn't visited you yet and..." 

"Oh darling, don't stress yourself," she interjected, her warm eyes and understanding nature putting me at slight ease. "I know you're here to see my son. Luckily for you, he's not working today. Shall I go get him?" she questioned with a knowing smile. 

I exhaled in relief and sent her a grateful smile. "Yes please, if it's not too much trouble." 

"Not at all. I'll be just a moment." When her footsteps could no longer be heard, Samir turned to me.

"I don't understand why you're nervous. The guy is head over heels in love with you. It's not like he'll kick you out."I rolled my eyes.

 "I just am OK, there's no explanation for everything." 

 He sighed. "And why am I here again?" he asked stupidly. 

 "Because I can't really speak with him unless you're present, duh." 

 "Oh right." 

 "Muum, I really don't want to see anyone right now." I nearly stopped breathing at the sound of his voice.

 "Believe me, you will want to see this person!" his mum whisper-yelled back. 

 "I'm too tired to socialise," he continued to whine and I suppressed my smile. 

 "I don't care if you're on your death bed, you are walking into this room." 

They continued to argue, oblivious to the fact that we could hear them. I wondered why she didn't just tell him it was me. 

 "Argh, fine mama." I swallowed and forced myself to look towards the doorway and when he walked in, I had to withhold another bout of tears. I had been crying too much lately and I need to reign in my emotions if I was ever going to communicate properly. 

 He walked through the door with quick steps - his mother hot on his heels - but once his eyes landed on the two guests sitting on his couch, he slowed down and halted all together. 

 "Salam Tariq," I said loud enough for him to hear. I smiled at the pure astonishment on his face.

 "Sameena...you're here." His grey eyes were searching my face thoroughly, as if he couldn't believe that I was really here standing in front of him. 

 "Maybe we should give them some space," khalto said wisely. 

 Samir nodded. "You guys can just pretend I'm not sitting in this corner." 

 After asking us if we needed anything, khalto walked out of the room and then Tariq gestured for me to sit down on one of the couches on the opposite end of the room. We sat down and for a few minutes, it was just silence. 

 We both had so much on our minds, so much to say but not knowing how to articulate it. I for one didn't even know what compelled me to come here today. All I knew, was that I missed him.

 I missed his dimpled smiles and warm presence. I missed his booming laugh and the special way he threw his head back in mirth. I missed his teasing, sarcastic and flirty remarks. I missed the feeling of being completely content when I thought of him. 

 Although now...now hurt and fear had been reignited within me and I wasn't sure how to battle it. The only thing I did know and that I had thought about extensively in the last few days, was that I wasn't willing nor did I want to leave him.

 Yes he had crushed me by keeping this secret from me and yes he would most definitely have to make it up to me. But just like I had forgiven my father and the rest of my family, I would forgive Tariq. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but because I realised that I didn't want to lose him. Unlike the last few suitors who had been a part of my life, after Tariq had so subtly hurt me, I was open to forgiving him and accepting his mistake.

 And I guess that's how I knew that I really loved him. 

 "Why aren't you at work?" Yes, out of everything I could've started our conversation with, that's what I chose. Work. 

 Tariq shifted at the sound of my voice but he kept his eyes lowered. "My manager forced me to take the rest of the week off," he replied, his deep voice carrying with it something akin to abashment. 

"Why?" 

 "I wasn't...doing so well. My focus was elsewhere and he could see that my head wasn't in the game so he forced me to rest for a few days."

 "I see..." There was another tense moment of silence as I contemplated how Tariq had been coping in the last few days. 

 "So are you going to make me wait in agony for the bad news?" 

 I frowned at him in confusion. "Bad news?"

 He clenched his jaw and finally looked up at me with shielded eyes. "I know you, you probably want to let me off kindly and in the softest way possible but I would prefer it if you just ended it quickly."

 "What are you talking about?!" 

 He laughed humourlessly and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you're here to end this relationship and I guess I don't blame you but if you could end my suffering and do it-," 

 "I'm not here to end the relationship you idiot!" I exclaimed in annoyance, cutting him off. "I'm here to tell you that you're forgiven, that I miss you darn it and that I couldn't stay away from you another day." 

 "Thank...wait what?!" His head snapped towards me so quickly I thought he might break something in his neck. 

 I graced him with a smile. "You heard me..."

 His eyes remained glued to mine and at this point, my fingers were literally twitching with the need to grasp his hand for comfort and assurance. After a minute, he let out a large breath of air and closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall into his hands. When he looked back up at me he said, "say it again." 

"What? You're forgiven?" 

 "No." 

 "I miss you?" I said, a blush creeping its way onto my face. 

 "No." 

 "I...couldn't stay away from you another day?"

 "Is that true?" he asked with so much hope and fear in his eyes. 

 "More than I'd like to admit Tariq," I whispered. 

 And finally, a full blown smile shaped his face. "So do I still get to marry the woman of my dreams?" he asked a bit too loudly. 

 "Hey, I heard that!" Samir yelled threateningly from the other side of the room and we laughed.

 "Yes, you do."

 He looked relieved. "I thought...Sameena this past week, I was just waiting for the moment that you'd come and tell me that we were over. That I had hurt you too badly and that you could never be with me. I guess I've gotten a taste of hell." 

 I shook my head at him. "Someone taught me a very special lesson and in the end, I realised that this isn't worth fighting over." 

 "I'm glad to hear that." His eyes shined in delight. "Because I'm truly the happiest when I'm with you." My heart lurched at his comment and I broke away from his intense gaze. 

"Oh, I can think of a few people who make me happier," I joked, just to irk him. 

 "Really? Who?" He sat up straighter.

 "Hmm, let's see. There's this one guard that works for my dad-," 

 "Sameena," he growled playfully and I simply chuckled at his annoyed expression. "Speaking of your dad..." he trailed off. 

 "Yes?" 

 "Can I finally come and ask him to set a date for the wedding?" 

 "Sure, but what's the rush?" 

 "I don't think I can wait any longer Sameena," he said seriously. "I need to be with the woman I love."

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