*Luna*

"Assalamualaikum," I said as I learned how to greet someone in Pakistan. "Did I say it correctly?"

Amir nodded and smiled my way. "You sure did, my Moon Goddess."

I raised an eyebrow at him and laughed. "Moon Goddess?" He chuckled.

"Why not? Your name means 'moon', and you are a Goddess. You're a Moon Goddess." I smiled back and leaned over to give him a quick kiss on his scruffy chin. I loved his facial hair.

"Well, you are my Arabian God. How about that?" He laughed and grinned, then cupped my cheeks with his strong hands, kissing me gently.

"I guess I'll take that." I giggled and scooted toward my coffee table as we were sitting here, eating Haleem.

It was delicious and tasty and made of wheat, barley, and meat. Usually it was prepared with minced beef or mutton, and sometimes goat meat, but Amir left out the meat and added lentils and spices to the stew. The dish was slowly cooked for seven to eight hours, which resulted in a paste-like consistency, and blended all the flavors together. And the smell was soft, but the spices caused my nose to twitch sometimes.

We were also playing a game of chess, which I was winning after a second round. Amir was groaning like crazy, saddened that I was beating him in almost every game. I loved getting the upper hand with him.

"So, what does one say after the first greeting?" I asked, feeling more intrigued by the people of Pakistan.

"After saying, Assalamualaikum," we finish with "Walaikumassalam."

"Oh, okay. I like it. Peace be with you, and peace be with you, too. That is very nice."

"Well, not everyone says it. It's not customary to say any greeting, but it makes a person feel better about greeting each other when we pass by one another."

"Oh, okay. Cool. I used to hear Mera and her family always say things to each other when they approached one another, but now I know what they mean. And now I can surprise them with saying it."

"I think they'll be very shocked, and once you get the hang of our language, you'll have a clearer understanding of our greetings and words we use."

I brought my fork up and took a small bite of my food. "Teach me more. I enjoy learning a new language." Truthfully, I sort of understood Urdu through him, but I loved listening to him express it out of his mouth.

For fifteen minutes we went over the Alphabet and numerology, then moved onto him translating different texts from The Qur'an. I was very intrigued to learn more about what it said and to understand the teachings inside it. I've also read The Bible, The Book of Mormon, and The Torah when I studied at the university for a religious course one semester, but I must say, I'd always found myself fascinated by two faiths-one, Buddhism, and two, Islam. Mostly because of how both faiths sat down on a floor, sometimes on a mat, and meditate, or pray. I've prayed alongside my parents and grandparents as they are Christians. However, something had always drawn me to be spiritual and not commit to any faith.

I glanced at Amir as he turned a page and then leaned over to kick my feet up while he read it. The Qur'an sounded so fascinating coming from him. I felt like I was in the presence of an Iman. While he was heavily reading, I hopped up and walked around, then checked out more of his fascinating five-bedroom home.

As I came close to one room, I noticed the door was slightly opened, so I quietly took a peek inside it. My eyes traveled around the small room as I gazed at a mat on the floor that faced counter-clockwise and surveyed some calligraphy written on a plaque on the wall. Then I turned back to him and asked him to come here. In two seconds, he was at my back.

Gazing up at his eyes, I asked, "What room is this for?"

"Ah. It's an extra room that I pray in when I'm home." Oh, sort of like my grandfather who had a room that was strictly to pray to God in. He used it as a small chapel.

"My grandfather, my mother's father, was a Christian before he passed away. He had a room that he would bring me, Liberty, and my mother into where we would have sermons and prayer time."

"It's good to have a room like this. Not all the time do I get to use mine, but when I'm home, I devote time to speak to Allah."

"Do you pray five times a day?" He nodded. "I think that's wonderful."

His lips turned up into a sweet smile, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "You do, Luna?"

"Yes. It doesn't matter what someone believes. If they are in tune with their faith, then they're doing the right thing for them. I may not solely believe in just one faith, but I believe that goodness is in everyone. And sometimes faith in God helps with that."

"That's one of the things I admire about you."

I softly chuckled and strolled back to his couch. "What?"

"You never treat me differently. I mean, you could've thought straight away I would be someone who would treat you wrong. Some women feel that way. Especially with someone who looks like me. But not you." He glanced down and sat in one of his luxurious and expensive chairs. "You could have thought anything from that first moment, and you approached me. Showed kindness to me."

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Well, I am not like most women. And I believe Allah has made you stay the kind, respectful, and caring person you are. You aren't like other people, either. This is why we were paired, because we are the same. Our souls are the same."

A tear escaped his eyelid, and I leaned down, slowly removing it with my thumb.

"They are the same," I repeated, whispering softly.

Then, as I glanced over on his mantle, I saw a picture of him and his family in front of a building. Behind them stood in the back was none other than my late ex-boyfriend. Sarah's father.

Sam.

Oh God, Amir was there the day Sam died. I knew that building looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I was on a Facetime call with him while I was giving birth to Sarah. He left to go to other countries because he wanted to find a doctor who could cure him of a tumor that was growing in his brain. Every doctor he met with turned him away. But he got lucky in Pakistan.

"Luna?" Amir murmured, snapping me out of my memories.

"Yes?"

"Nothing. You just looked like you were somewhere else in your head."

"I was. Sam's death. It happened right there," I replied, pointing at the picture where his tall frame was in the background. "That was him. Sam... Sarah's dad."

Amir's eyes opened wide as I slowly fell down on my couch, in shock about this new discovery. Sam was a few feet away from Amir, and Amir was the one who tried to perform emergency procedures on him when he noticed a man behind his family falling to the ground. Amir probably didn't realize this beforehand. And somehow, our connection was making a lot more sense.

My soul was always lead to his, and our pairing was not by chance or coincidence, but by fate.

*Luna's Flashback July 1, 2012*

"Luna! Push!" The mid-wife yelled out as I felt more and more contractions hitting me all at once. "Two more pushes."

I lifted my phone up and tried to speak to Sammy, but he was out in a desert somewhere, and the connection was spotty.

"Sam! Can you hear me?"

"Yeah. Luna... Luna. You're doing great. I know you are. You've got this."

"AHHH!!!" The pain was strong and so hard to keep going. But I felt her kick. I felt Serena kick. "Sam... Sam... Serena just kicked. I felt her kick."

"She's ready to see the world. I'm ready to meet my Sarah."

"Ser... en... a. I am naming her Serena, Samuel Davidson."

"Okay. Okay. We'll discuss this whenever I'm home."

He smiled joyfully and had his camera facing the front where I could see what was going on behind him.

"Where are you?" I asked him, still pushing and trying to distract myself from feeling the pain of childbirth.

"One more push, Luna!"

I struggled so hard and tried to push her out. I don't know how this has been done for so many centuries. It was excruciating and exhausting.

"Sam. Sarah is almost here," I told him.

"I'm so happy," he said. His shiny blond hair sparkled from the bright sunlight. "Once I meet with a doctor inside this Mosque, I'll get his opinion, and then be on my way back to you both."

"Okay!" I squeezed harder and felt my baby coming closer. The mid-wife looked down and smiled at me.

"You're crowning!" I nodded at her, relieved to hear that.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What's the doctor's name?" I asked him, in case this doctor could help him.

"He isn't necessarily a doctor. He's a scientist who specializes in cases like mine, who could offer his expertise to my doctor back home. I'm meeting someone with the last name Khan."

"Oh... kay." I couldn't believe I was talking to him on a video call and giving birth at the same time. Two seconds later, and my daughter was coming out.

"Did I just hear her cry?" Sam asked through the phone, a tear coming down his cheek. I nodded and threw my head back, feeling relieved that she made it, and she was finally here.

My mid-wife cleaned Sarah up and swaddled her, then handed my baby into my arms while she cleaned around my area. I looked into the camera and said, "Samuel Davidson. Meet your newborn baby daughter, Sarah Marie Carlyle."

His eyes filled into tears and he sobbed, looking so pale and saddened by not being here for her birth. "Sarah? You named her after my mother?"

"I did. I wanted her to be named after Serena from Gossip Girl, but she is more of a Sarah to me, and this is your mother's namesake. She died shortly after giving birth to you. And our daughter should have her name."

Tears streamed down my face, and I peered closely into the video as glimpsed at a group behind him taking pictures together. Then suddenly, Sam's eyes rolled back into its sockets, and the phone fell from his hand, facing upward towards the top of the roof of the building he stood next to. Several people rushed to him and tried to perform emergency procedures on him, but to no avail. I handed Sarah back over to my mid-wife and cried for Sam while listening to the groups of people speaking in another language.

The phone was then picked up, and a woman with a scarf around her head and neck appeared on the screen. I could see a man hunched over Sam's body, wearing white clothes and pressing harshly onto his chest, trying to restart his heart. Now it looked like she was walking through a set of doors and greeted fellow residents who passed her by.

"Hello? Hello? If you can understand English, please tell me what's going on?"

She smiled and handed the phone over to a man with a covering over his head and a full beard. "Hello. I can help you. Is that your friend outside, miss?" His accent wasn't bad, and I could understand him. I nodded in response, worried about what happened. "What is his name? That way we can inform the doctor?"

"It's Samuel. Samuel Davidson. He's an American, and from Texas. He was in your country to meet with a doctor for a tumor that is growing inside his brain."

"Okay. Thank you for that information. Would you like for me to check on him for an update?"

"Yes. Could you, Mr?"

"Sayyid Mohammed."

"Luna Carlyle. Thank you."

The man walked through the dozens of people who were scattered around and stepped outside. I shrieked when the camera faced Sam's body with a white sheet over it, and the same man who was trying to revive him was sobbing beside his body. Sayyid touched the man's shoulder, and he kept his head down, murmuring back something that I couldn't understand. Then the man who was helping Sam turned around and my heart just stopped. I didn't notice the man necessarily, but his eyes were filled with tears as he was trying to help this stranger.

"Hello? I'm still here." Sayyid flipped the phone around to me and frowned. "Go ahead. I can take it."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Luna. But the gentleman didn't make it. There was a trained doctor who tried to do everything he could. I am sorry I have to inform you of this."

I cried out and somehow the signal was lost. Then I jumped up from the couch I gave birth on and grabbed Sarah, holding her tight. As I peered my gaze down to my phone, I realized that my camera was recording everything, and I was about to be sick.

Sam's death was on camera.

[Part Two of this chapter is next. -->]