Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem.

Jesima wrapped the woolen scarf around her neck tighter, rubbing her hands together, and with a heavy heart, signed the discharge papers.

No matter how many times they all took turns to put clear words in Aashiq's brain that without him, they wouldn't be able to live even for a second, he didn't agree to take any proper treatment for his tumor.

Glioblastoma is a killer. It never attacks a body without prying it fully. They lived a month in ignorance of the deadly disease gnawing his insides. After the painkilling truth got revealed that he was suffering from a disease that would eventually take his life, days passed in a blur and one more month got lapsed in vain.

Now, the sand clock deceived their eyes. His end could be at any moment. His time duration became numbered. His days were very few. The hours his heart would beat became like a tree that shed autumn leaves. The seconds that ticked the clock caused havoc in every member of his family. It was all happening and it was all very hard to process in.

He was determined in saying that he knew, his intuition was true, nothing could save him except Allah. As humans, we were created to live for a specific amount of time. Nothing could change. No fact can stop death from retrieving our souls from our bodies. Each clay-carved human must taste death. No one can hide, pass time, steal his life away-when death knocks at his doorstep. No one can or ever will.

He was now returning home. Life-saving medical instruments were brought into his room, anything that could make him live - a second, an hour, or a day more.

His whole ordeal was changed. He wasn't like before. He looked different. His eyes were grey and gloomy yet the light green that sparkled gave the hope that he believed in his Creator that no matter what he does, it is for his good. Dark circles circled his orbs making him look tired and old than he already was. At the edge of his nose, there was a permanent blood stained cotton ball. His lips were parched and dry. He looked otherworldly. Like he had woken up from a dream. A life-changing at that one.

Jesima's eyes prickled and the paper that she held looked almost blurry. Her fingers trembled slightly as she signed those sheets of paper that determined that nothing is going to save his life.

She wiped the stray tear that rolled out of her red-eye socket. Pushing the paper forward in the reception, she looked up at the same time when Aashiq was wheeled out. Her lips twitched and her foot robotically lead her to him. His eyes at once glinted with the specks of adoration and love.

She followed him outside the hospital entrance, crossing the sliding glass doors. She helped him get inside the car that directed them to their destination.

The car ride went along in pin-drop silence. The air seemed unbearable to breathe in. The familiar lanes didn't bring back the lost spark to life. It came to a stop near the apartment complex. Finally, Jesima turned towards Aashiq, she intertwined their fingers and her eyes looked at their joint hands. "Take care", she pressed his palm.

" You too", he replied.

She nodded her head and got down. With a quick wave of assurance, the car gushed forth. They all discussed with heavy hearts and concluded that they all will forget about the disease their beloved was suffering from and would create beautiful memories. Spend time together, shower all their love towards him. Aashiq would stay a couple of days with his parents and the rest with Jesima. It was as if he turned into a small child all of a sudden.

Jesima twisted and turned her casual sandals in anticipation and sighed. Her fingers held the hem of her scarf and toyed the loose threads as she climbed the stairs to the first-floor apartment where her friend lived.

She was in no mood to scream some PDA advice at Maahi for not wearing appropriate clothing's in his home and so she lowered her head, greeted him with a salaam and entered the house.

It was late at night, so they didn't get much time to talk about matters that caused bad more than good. Shabna helped her with a sleeping bag in the room Saad and his siblings shared.

They all knew that talking could not do good as much as actions do. But, in situations like the ones Jesima was trespassing, nothing could help the her to feel soothed. "Jessie, my bed is big, I am sure we both can fit in", Saad's innocent voice cut through the bubble she was occupied in.

She shook her head at the little boy, " It's okay, Saad. I will adjust in here".

"Please", the boy pouted, " I won't be able to sleep if you sleep on the floor".

A small chuckle left her lips at his kindness. "Okay! I will lay you to sleep first then", she got inside his bed which couldn't fit her large legs. She cramped and folded them to the side and closed her eyes.

" Where is your daughter of whom you always talk about?".

The question made her to wide open her eyes. "Huh?"

"Jessie, the daughter you always ask me to marry? Where is she? Why don't we see her when you visit?".

Jesima didn't know what to reply to that and her thoughts marred with pain, a newfound ache rented her heart. " I don't know", she whispered.

Saad fell in silence and she couldn't feel more thankful for that than she did at the moment. "Did you lose her?".

His next question formed a clot in her throat. " Yeah. For forever".

Her lungs felt trouble to breathe. The oxygen she was breathing wasn't enough to calm her palpitating heart. A corner of her heart wanted him to fall asleep. He didn't know how much his innocent questions burned her. "Don't worry Jessie, when we lose someone who is very much dear to us, Allah replaces them with someone more loving and caring".

Jesima blinked her eyes, her eyebrows furrowed together, confusion marred her facial features at the words that left from the mouth of the five and half-year-old. " Uncle Bilal always said that my parents died in a car accident. Still, do you know? from the day I remember, Maahi Bhaiya is with me. He took charge of my care. He visited the orphanage more times than I could count. He made the hole where I missed my Mamma and Paapa to close".

Words weighed heavy to speak in her tongue. Beautification of her Creator's welfare was all she could see at that moment. "Allah gave me Bhaiya, Jessie. He made me laugh so much. He used to bring me so many toys. He took me out and bought me gola", Saad grinned.

A tear rolled across her nose and Saad wiped it with his small palms. " Do you know which gift I love the most that Bhaiya--", he bit his bottom lip at the small mistake he was doing by referring his dad with an other name, shaking his head, "Daddy had given me?",

She shook her head in a no and urged him to reveal it to her.

" Mamma", he smiled.

....

Samra climbed down the stairs of Aashiq's private plane and stepped into the concrete roads of the airport lounge. Soon enough, once she walked out of the checking in front of Yasser Arafat International Airport's entrance, the escort arranged earlier from Aashiq, picked her up. She buckled the seat belt and then the driver started the Jeep to roar into energy. The roads opened to clear off from buildings and the vehicle entered through the clearing of the soiled desert, one or two green-colored plants lined their way.

It took them half an hour to reach their destination in the vast Gaza strip. Her brain cells were too numb to process what was happening. She didn't know what she would be going to face but she urged herself to be ready for whatever storms that would come to uproot her. She didn't cry. She didn't eat anything properly ever since she heard the phone call got shut. All her trembling heart uttered were sincere pleas to keep Ahmed safe. Her unwavering hope in Allah was her anchor. She clung to the last of her strength to face what laid ahead.

They passed through several diminished areas that were turned to ashes, children dressed like cigar showered ashtrays, eating thick buns as their only meals, the water seemed to be clouded with dirt and dander, animals lay devastated.

The place had a peaceful aura even amid chaos.

The Jeep stopped nearby and the motorist pointed her finger towards the front. There were huge blue-colored tents laid ahead on top of which were name posters in which were written the details of the medical camp which gave free treatment. As Samra stepped out, soiled breeze welcomed her niqab covered face. People were walking in and out. She saw a few nurses and Doctors rushing to give treatment almost to everyone, at least they were trying, for there were many people bruised and battered seated among the few chairs that sat on the desert sand.

The tents were big and spacious inside, containing many stalls, and, beds and good accommodation facilities. Her eyes wandered over every person's face, searching for the one and only person for whom she came all the way long.

The faces blurred and her eyes didn't stop to implore, her threads were loose and their hope was on the brink of breaking. Shattering.

She exited one tent and entered the other. She did likewise to five different tents that lined across and forth. He was nowhere to be seen. Samra clutched her Abhaya in a tight grip, her vision pooling in defeat, her world crumbling to affliction. Her breathing became hoarse and she felt suffocated standing in front of the rays of the afternoon sun.

Perhaps, if only there were more tents, she would have searched them, let alone all her life. Perhaps, just perhaps but there weren't any. She sighed, sulking to herself and her head felt dizzy with tensed nerves.

Everyone was busy with their task at hand and she was too with all her grief. She lost him, once and forever. Jesima's words rang through her ears, the ones which she had spoken before Samra had left the hospital. "Samra, I know this is very hard for you but trust me, life is very short to give our fears to rule our decisions. Sometimes we should leave our safe zone to experience new beginnings. Not everything is going to turn into a wrath. The birds leave their nests to taste the sweetness of a flight, a mother let goes of her child's hands so that he may walk on his own, and one can see the clear risks in those small acts but don't you ponder over the outcome? Don't you think it is beautiful. I and you know that Ahmed is not a man who would scorch himself to harass anyone. He is too good to be true. He loves you so immensely. If he is out there hale and breathing, don't miss the chance, Samra. You have got this but look at me I don't, I am not gonna experience to live in a house which would have been once our home with Aashiq residing with me, this transient life is too short, too unforgiving, and is filled with too many troubles---", she had broken down, her sentences unfinished but their meaning got deep-rooted in the embers of Samra's heart.

Sadly, fate had won the chase, Samra was stranded even before Jesima. With a chaotic mind, she walked out of the stalls, her brain cells too impassive to particulate the reality. She walked towards the clearing. She begged the ground to hold her for some longer.

Samra was in a daze and her steps were starting to falter. Her surroundings commenced becoming a slow-moving tragic song whose lyrics she didn't know of. She walked out of the tent. She didn't know what to expect from life when she didn't even have the will to live.

How is she going to live in a world where he wasn't a part of?

She wiped her eyes and her lips started to shiver, for a sob was ready to erupt from her thoracic cavity. One more blow and she will crumble down. She stood on the brink, ready to let go.

Suddenly, she stumbled into her footing as she stepped onto a pebble and her shoelace became loose, she strangled herself to not fall on the ground and somehow, picked herself straight. She then bent down to tie them up. She was about to stand up when a boy ran beside her and he almost hit her in the back to make her fall to the ground but she was lucky because even this time she dodged the force of nature to make her body fall before her soul did.

She looked up at the boy to ensure he was prudent when her eyes perceived the view of that one person for whom she left her home for. Ahmed stood in front of one of the tents, a hand on his forehead, worry lining his ocean blue eyes, a scoff on his lips, and his other hand on his hip. His doctor's coat hung loose and it reached till his knees. He seemed like he was in some nuisance - difficulty to be precise.

Samra's eyes blurred on their own accord and she gulped yet even another sob. She stood up from the ground and one look at his sound face raised her spirits like a Phoenix. Her feet on their own, started towards their destination which was him. His gaze was cast elsewhere and when his peripheral vision perceived the view of someone approaching him, he turned to face her. Surprise washed over his complexion and the fuss marred feature swerved into a wide grin. This time, she couldn't stop her trembling lips to stretch wide. The irony was simple, no matter how long they stretched he couldn't simply see them.

Ahmed jogged towards her and stood only two inches away, towering her small self, " Samra?", her name sounded so foreign for his tongue thought he was dreaming her, so unsure that she was there, in front of him, for real.

She nodded, closing her eyelashes to pour down the excess water supply. "What a pleasant surprise".

She looked up to meet his eyes, and she didn't know how to react. Her racing heart was finally at peace. " How did you..., Wait. When did you come?".

"Just a while before".

" Woah", he kept a hand over his mouth in disbelief. "Your entry is just perfect", he searched her whole form for something and his eyes settled on her sling bag clinging near her waist, " so precise", his long fingers reached for the bag and he gripped it, making Samra jolt awake but she was surprised when he turned around and started to run, making her follow suit by pulling her along with him through the bag. There was enough distance between the both when Samra hastily removed the bag off of her shoulder and clutched the other end. "Where are we going, Ahmed?".

" There's no time to explain, you will know soon", and that soon came very soon. They entered a block and inside, he marched towards a stall lined up with beds and he stopped near one of them. Its view was obscured with curtains making it harder for Samra to guess who was inside. "Just now they found this eleven-year-old girl who was assaulted", Ahmed ran a hand through his hair in agony to tell aloud the words, " we didn't take many female doctors with us here and the few we took have gone out for surveys. Samra, the girl is so scared, we don't know how many days she was kept and ravished, she doesn't allow us to even come near her. She is in a very trivial situation. She needs you, Sam", his eyes finally met her conflicted brown irises.

Samra blinked back the tears, registering what he was saying. Surely, this was unexpected and sure enough, a blow on her face.

How was she supposed to treat a victim of abuse when she was already been one?

"Can you please take charge? I know, I know it's not supposed to be the way to welcome you here but we should be quick", Ahmed put his hand once again in his forehead not knowing how much of a hurricane he was causing inside her. " she is losing it, Sam".

"Don't worry, I will take care of her", Samra blurted out to clear off the worry lines that were perched on his forehead without even thinking of what she was adding to her plate.

She could sulk herself to death later, right?

Ahmed breathed in relief and nodded, his hand stretched her sling bag back. Samra took ahold of the leather material in hand and pushed the curtains to the side. She took in a deep breath and went inside. Her breathing completely stopped at the sight of the girl, sprawled on the white sheets. A tattered cloth covered her bruised body, red patches of blood were drawn on her dusty skin, her face whispered with blows. " Hey", Samra reached out.

The girl scrunched her eyebrows in fear. "I am here to help you", Samra assured in a choked-up whisper. She removed her niqab and placed it down. Tears rolled out of her eyes as she slowly took baby steps towards the child and caressed her hair. " No one is going to harm you now. Allah has protected you. You are now in safe hands",

Seeing Samra's face the girl's grim complexion softened a bit, the initial fear slipped off, her pale countenance fell, and she started to
bellow with pain, tribulation, and what not she had received.

Samra tried to console her but no matter how much she tried, the girl didn't stop. Finally, she had to put her in a sedative to treat her wounds. After cleaning her wounds, gushing out bandages, and dressing her in a hospital gown, Samra stepped out of the stall.

Samra felt so tired and worn out. She didn't have the energy to prod over her wishful thinking that had stormed into chaos. She saw Ahmed talking with someone in the distance and she moved towards his direction.

Ahmed saw her coming, "Faris, I am going to take a break now. Alright?".

The guy shook his head and walked away. " How is she?".

"Stable", Samra replied.

Ahmed pushed the tent's curtain and silently ushered Samra to get out first and he followed. They fell in silence and she silently trod by his side. " Ahmed", she called out his name to stop him from walking.

He whirled to look back and paused his steps. "How are you?".

" Alhamdulillah", he smiled.

Seeing her eyebrows still furrowed he questioned, "What happened, Sam?".

" That day when you called, there were airstrikes, your phone call got cut and we couldn't reach any of you, Ahmed. You are asking me what happened. What was all that about?".

"Oh, yes. There were airstrikes a few yards away and they damaged all our network connections. That's why the phone call got cut in the middle and we were unable to contact you guys to let you people know that we were indeed safe".

"That means nothing happened to you?", Samra felt foolish to ask the question even when he was standing in all his might in front of her.

" Alhamdulillah. Yes", Ahmed crooked a smile.

Samra looked down to the ground. "Samra, you came all the way here to ensure this?". Ahmed wondered, amusement clear in his tone.

A pink hue of tinge colored her cheeks and she was thankful that her sight was secured from his view. " Samra, look at me. You came for, ...me?", he chuckled taking a step back, disbelief washed his own words, a spark in his ocean pooled pupils.

Samra rolled her eyes to stop her heart from jumping off her chest and resumed walking. "Hey, wait", Ahmed jogged to fall in her quick steps.

Prosperity is what his blue orbs shined with when he bought two mugs of hot coffee, handing one styrofoam cup towards her. He sat down on the concrete stool of the sidewalk and Samra took her seat a few inches away from him. He took a Doritos packet out of his coat pocket, tore it open, and nudged it towards her. " how do you get these here?".

Ahmed smiled mischievously, "What do you think my two roller suitcases consisted of, clothes?".

Samra laughed audibly.

They both ate food in silence. Her soul was finally put to rest. He was hale, healthy, and hilarious as ever.

" Where did you find the girl?".

Ahmed's countenance slumped. "In a FREAKING bin, Samra. They were using her like trash and when she was of no use, they threw her in the trash like this one time processable styrofoam cup", he grimaced and her heart stopped to beat. " if someone didn't find her in time, she wouldn't have been alive".

"You are wrong. People should have let her die".

" Samra", he gasped.

"Yeah. They should have", Samra stared at the clearing that kissed the desert soil at the far end. Her stale fingers initiated to crumple the cup in her hand. " If she had died, she would have attained peace, Ahmed. Living in the same world as her molesters are, she would live a life caging herself from everyone, good and bad. She would be scarred for life. She wouldn't live as a normal person. Nightmares would haunt her dreams. Even if she tried, she wouldn't have been able to move on. Time may have lapsed, but the wounds would have the same raw pain--", Samra gulped. "--Trust-She wouldn't be able to trust anyone in her life. And when she falls in love or someone falls for her, she wouldn't have been able to give them a chance. She would never be full. Never be happy", She faced him, " Don't you think death would have been the better option for her?".

Ahmed took his time to answer. She mugged at her self for vomiting incoherent words the way she had did. "Samra is that about the girl or someone, --else?", he slowly, whisper questioned.

Samra sat quiet and his heart started to race, he didn't know why. Every time in their relationship, he was the outspoken one. He enjoyed her silence. He thought it was her modesty and he fell in love with her non-existent replies. Now, for a moment, he forgot to breathe. He wasn't the serious one but in that instance, he was anything but. " Yes", she looked down at her lap.

"May I know who?". He asked even though he guessed the answer. He blinked several times and his gaze was fixed on her posture. The time seemed to pause. He felt like every living being around him froze, awaiting her answer.

" Me". Samra never thought that she had the strength in her to reveal the truth to him but she didn't know when and how he had climbed all those walls and made her say the words she sealed herself with.

This was the period she knew where he will outgrow to hate her. On one side she felt happy that she confessed her deepest secret to him but on the other, she felt gloomy for this would forever end their relationship. Fear started to brew in her stomach. Her hands started to sweat and the hot surroundings made no help to cool down her nerves.

"Who was it?", Ahmed's voice laced with so much fury that her heart gripped her chest.

" It doesn't matter", Samra shook her head, "The damage has been done. It never can be changed, can it?".

" Whoever it was Samra, is going to die with my hands", Ahmed sighed with anguish, "How can someone do this to you, y-o-u", She knew this was it, she steadied her heart to accept what was to come, " to my girl", he turned around, his face mirroring sympathy, agony as if he was imagining and undergoing what had happened to her to his own self, "Samra? You went through what the hell the girl stepped out from? Tell me no, please".

She nodded, gaze locking with his, eyes watery and pooled up like him. " Not entirely but enough to haunt all my life".

Ahmed clutched his fingers in a punch-grip, his knuckles turning white. "You feel protected with all these layers, don't you? You are scarred and scared at the same time", he was talking with himself, frowning at his soul to open his eyes towards reality for he thought it was no less than a nightmare. Very bad at that one.

He ran a hand through his face, sighing. " It's okay, Ahmed. If you don't want to talk with me, I totally under--".

His glare made her stop mid-sentence. "You have pushed me enough, Sam. Don't push me again. I am not leaving you for anything".

His every word froze her. " That is why you have always rejected my proposal".

She didn't reply, and sometimes silence becomes the best answer. "I promise, Samra, I would never bring back the topic of marriage to you. It doesn't mean I stopped loving you because even if I try, I can't stop. After falling in the well of love, no one can come back. Okay? I won't bother you only for the reason that I know what reason you behold for not bestowing your hand to me. Alhamdulillah! You told me now. I will cling to this for the rest of my life".

" Ahmed, I don't want you to wait for me and stop yourself from experiencing happiness that I lack in myself to provide you".

"Samra, my happiness revolves around you", he stood up and took a few steps ahead and when he turned around, his blue orbs shined with a new glint. He came forward and kneeled in front of her in his both legs. Samra confusedly looked at him and he smiled with a painful smile. " All this while, I thought my life was only the hard one, that I was the only one who was tested. Seeing you, seeing this person-that belief has now crumpled to ashes. In Islam, marrying helps to complete half of the Deen, right?".

"Yes?", it came more like a question as she didn't know where he was heading.

" Now I understand why. It's because we all are incomplete. No one is whole. Everyone is broken. Everyone has been tested in their levels of bearings and our past makes us feel heavy, lonely, and too vacant. By marrying, we are letting a person share our lives, complete half of our Deen but to also complete our own selves. They become our healing. Our prize for all the sufferings we underwent. Two half pieces merge to become an entire one. They help each other on their ups and downs. They lift their spirits and give them the courage to face their demons. To put this in even more simple terms, they act as a marham (medicine) on our old wounds. Even if they don't heal us completely, at least they make us would feel light for awhile, until the test gets passed. At last, the initial pain would subside. Is that not enough?".

She gaped at his every syllable. How can he talk with magic in his words? Just how can he?

"Sam, I understand how hard it is for you to stand straight with all the arrows in your back but trust me, I am not perfect either. My love for you would never subside. I will wait for the day when you would willingly walk up to me and ask me to take the step, break this invisible barrier that keeps us away and that day I will surely do, break all your walls into shards. Make a home in your heart. If that is not compatible, I accept a life, just to be with you even if you cover yourself from me with all these layers. All I want is you, your love and your company. If that is also not compatible, let's live a life, in this land, serving in the cause of Allah until He, the exalted lifts your worries. Alright?".

They say tears taste bitter but that moment that answer got itself proved wrong. For, the taste of the tears shedded due to the overflowing love-always tasted sweet.

Samra nodded her head, tears stained her niqab and she smiled amidst all those along. A choked grin marveled at her features.

If someone her heart wanted to cling on to, was him, and it would be only him, now and forever.

She wouldn't take decisions in haste. She needed time to mend, curve, smooth, and heal. For the first time in her life, she had someone at the end of the road, waiting for her to finish her race of fears. Wanting her to win and for him, she surely trusted herself to smooth out a win.

Ahmed stood up and dusted off his coat and Samra dusted did same to her Abhaya. Together, on each other's side, they walked towards their destination, towards the grace of their Sustainer.

No matter how far the sky is from the ocean, eventually, they both meet at the end and create a whole new horizon of their own.

***

Assalamu alaikum. How was it?

Did I say, I love you all? -Coz I love you to infinity and some more.

Only, a few chapters are left.