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AN: AsSalaamu Alaykum Wa Rahmahtullahy Wa Barakaahtuh. This is the story I've written to enter into the competition held by @WaVeSSS. I hope you guys enjoy it, and please vote and comment! 

Dedicated to my darling sister @readingqueen20 for being absolutely annoying and talking through the night as I tried to get the story done... You are the most embarrassing, irritating, loveable, darlingest cousin/sister EVER! Love ya :P

Jazakullahu Khayran...

~~~Humayra...

Mardiyyah~ A young woman, Haafidhah, energetic, always trying to make people happy, beautiful, happily married, shy but friendly, and, everyone's favourite- crazy.

Dihya~ A young man, Haafidh, Aalim, shy, the best husband EVER, loves to annoy his wife, handsome, bearded, happily married and best of all- A voice from heaven.

Mardiyyah and Dihya are a young couple,100% in love and happy. With Allah in their lives, how could they not be? But, Allah tests those whom He loves, right? 

Right... 

Two months into their marriage, Mardiyyah is diagnosed with Lung cancer. She feels horrible, because Dihya is crushed, the wounds from his father's sudden death still fresh. 

Mardiyyah feels responsible for Dihya's horrible state, and even though he tries to act strong for her, she knows that he isn't okay at all.

This story follows the struggles, tears, smiles, hugs, punches, pain and love of the young couple as they try to come to terms with their situation... 

Their inspiration: Verily after difficulty, comes ease... But sometimes, we face difficulties here in the dunya, and ease is in the Aakhirah... Will this be the case with them? 

Allahu Aa'lam... 

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Chapter one

Mardiyyah's POV

Colourful leaves blew around me in the slight breeze and the swing I sat on swayed and creaked every three seconds. The tears fell down my cheeks and dried immediately in the crisp autumn air. I heard the sniffs my husband let out everyone little while, as he pushed me on the swing.

Cancer. 

I couldn't believe it. They said I had lung cancer. And that I'd only live for a maximum of four months. I was only married for two!

Ya Allah, grant me shifaa and if I pass away soon, re-unite me with my husband in Jannah,  Aameen.

Suddenly, the swing stopped. I looked behind me and found Dihya, my husband, clutching his chest and sobbing. Seeing him caused tears to fall from my eyes and they stained my red cheeks. I got off  the swing and embraced him, kissing his head and rubbing his back soothingly, but his tears didn't cease to fall.

I needed to see his smile right then, so I broke the silence.

"Ya Zawyj! Don't cry. There is no need," I said softly. He looked at me, the tears flowing freely.

"You can't leave me, Dhul Hun. I need you. I need you..." a sob escaped and he clutched my hand tightly against his chest.

"Allahu A'alam,"I whispered and he nodded, his eyes shut tightly.

I felt so guilty. According to my mother-in-law, Dihya never cried. Even when his father had passed away, he  cried when no one was around. Right then, he was crying like a baby.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. His head shot up, a puzzled look on his face.

"For what?" he asked. I'd never heard his voice like that before. It was hoarse and gruff, gruffer than normal and the sadness and grief was evident in it.

"For the pain I've caused you and the pain you will feel when I pass a—-"

"Don't say it! Please... please Dhul Hun..." Dihya whispered harshly.

I nodded and asked him to smile for me. He tried and failed. A tear escaped his eye and travelled down his high cheekbone, over his cheek and, just as it was going to disappear, I moved forward and kissed it away, fighting back my own tears.

Dihya wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. I looked down at my hands, which were flat against his chest, my fingers spread out.

"Look at me," he said.

 I looked up at him, and like every other time, my breathing stopped. I still had no idea how I ended up with such a handsome husband. His black eyes glistened with tears, his white cheeks were tear stained and his Sunnah length beard was soaked, yet he still looked handsomer than anyone I'd ever seen.

He kissed my forehead and whispered how much he loved me into my ear.

"I'm not going to say that it's all going to be okay, because I don't know what Allah has planned. But I promise you, I will be here, not behind you, but with you- right next to you, all the way, until either one of us passes away. And on Yawm Al Qiyaamah, Bi'ithnillah, I will walk hand in hand with you, into the Gardens of Jannah..."

"In Shaa Allah," I whispered.

"Dhul Hun, promise me something?" he asked quietly, playing with the ring on my finger.

"Anything," I replied.

"Let us live the rest of our time together, happy with each other, content with what we have, until destiny wins the game of life. Promise me that," he said, staring into my green eyes.

"I promise..."

And the same smile I had been yearning for appeared, knocking away all of my worries.

A few days later:

"Dhul Hun! Come on, my darling, we're going to be late!"

"I'm coming now... My Jilbaab is annoying me Dihya!'

I heard him sigh and then make his way toward our bedroom. He opened the door and found me tangled in the folds of my jilbaab, almost drowning.

"What the...!" he exclaimed, letting out a chuckle.

"It's not funny! I can't find my niqaab...Its somewhere in here," I said exasperatedly.

This time he laughed harder and came over to me.

"What are you going to do?" I asked suspiciously, inching back a little bit.

"Relax. Don't you trust me?"

"Not really. After what you did to me yesterday..."

"I told you! That was a mistake!" he exclaimed.

"Mistake, my backside! Now shush, I'm trying to do something here."

What happened, do you ask? My dear husband and I were taking a walk along the lake behind our home, and simply put, he took me onto the pier. When I wasn't looking, he pushed me into the water. The part that I was angry at was the fact that I had my haidh. What a lovely husband I have. Alhamdullilah, I do have a wonderful husband...

"Put your hands up," Dihya said.

I did exactly as he asked, but super slowly. What could I say? I loved to pester my husband! He huffed in annoyance and  reminded me that we were already late.

"Ok, ok , I'm sorry." I said.

He smiled and kissed my forehead and then lifted my Jilbaab over my head, removing the entire thing.

"Dihya! Do you know how long it took me to put that thing on?" I screeched.

"Chill sweetheart, I'll put it on for you after."

I sat down on the side of the bed and watched as Dihya shook the Jilbaab a few times. The niqaab fell out a little while later.

"Jazakallahu Khairan Zawyj! Uhhibukki fee sabeelillah!"

I got up and gave him a quick kiss before I got ready.

As soon as I was done, Dihya grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out of the house and into the car.

"Dihya! Wait!"

We were already in the garage, so I leaned against our car, trying to catch my breath. What was happening to me? I could walk for miles on end before I stopped to catch my breath. I closed my eyes and took deep gulps of air in.

After a little while, I felt Dihya's fingertips caress my cheek.

"What's happening Dhul Hun?" he asked me. I kept my eyes closed and shook my head.

"I... I... don't know...I.. It hurts Dihya. It hurts a lot!"

"Where? Where does it hurt?"

"Here..." I pointed to my ribs.

"What kind of pain?" he asked. His voice was strained, as if breathing had become difficult.

"It...pokes...and—-oh ya Allah! Dihya! It hurts too much... Ya Allah..."

The last thing I heard was:

"Ya Allah, I love her so much, but you love her more. Remove this pain from her and rather give it to me...."

Dihya's POV

I walked up and down the hospital passageways, and freaked out. The only ayah that I thought of was 'Fad khuli Fi Ibaadi Wa Ad Khuli Jannati...'

Not exactly optimistic, but if I'd learnt anything in life, it was hope for the best, and expect the worst.

While I walked, my thoughts drifted to my father, may Allah grant him Jannat Al Firdaus. The night he was shot, I thought that my heart was ripped out, that my life was over. But then, my mother insisted that I get married and Mardiyyah came along.

She made me realise that life is a test, and like the ayah says, Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilayhi Raaji'oon. She made me see that while we are in this world for a short while, we'll live for eternity in the Aakhirah- where we'll be re-united with our loved ones... 

Loved ones....

As I thought about Mardiyyah and my father, I heard someone calling my name. I looked behind and found my mother standing there. She saw me and ran over, crashing me in a bear hug.

'Oh my darling... I'm so sorry jaan! Allahu Aa'lam... Areh, where is she?'

'I...I dunno ma. They took her in without telling me anything and won't allow me in...'

She muttered something I wasn't sure the hospital would liked to have heard.

'Come... Let's go, Jaan. They have to let us in!'

I tried to stop my crazy mother, but she was already walking over to the nurses, with her hands on her hips.

'What nonsense is this? My daughter is in there, fighting for her life, and we're not allowed in? No, no, no, I will not stand for it!'

Mentally groaning, I walked away from her and stood against the wall, looking down.

She continued arguing with the nurses and, finally, like always, she had her way. She came over to me and smiled proudly, dragging me by my arm to the room Mardiyyah was in. At the door, I stopped dead in my tracks. Did I really want to see my wife lying motionless on a hospital bed?

'Dihya... Come on Jaan... She needs you now...'

My mother, who was already in the room, came over to me and held my face in her warm palms. Kissing my forehead, she wiped away the tears that were falling down my cheeks. She grabbed my arm and we walked into the room together.

 Mardiyyah was lying on the white sheets, her normally rosy skin whiter than the sterile white walls, her raven black hair was open and fanned around her and her eyes were sunken in.

Immediately, I was next to her, holding her hand. Her body was cold, but her bony hand clasped mine. I looked down at her face but she was still fast asleep. My mother walked over to the other side of the bed. Her hand was clasped over her mouth in disbelief and tears were falling down her chubby cheeks. 

After a while, she said:

'I have a beautiful daughter... Dihya, you have a pearl...' she whispered as she caressed Mardiyyah's cheeks.

'My beautiful, beautiful daughter...' she murmured.

'Wait... Dihya! Where's her father?' my mother asked after a few minutes.

My head shot up.

'I don't know... I phoned him and he didn't answer. I left him quite a few messages too, but he didn't reply to them. Maybe he's busy?'

She frowned, and a knowing look crossed her face. Before I could ask her what it meant, she changed the subject.

'Meri Jaan, I'm going to fetch your brother and sister and feed them now. I'll be back, with both of them, in the afternoon, In Shaa Allah. If...when Mardiyyah wakes up, give her my love and tell her that she needs to eat something. Food helps anything, you know...'

I smiled at her, and she walked out of the room after kissing my forehead and making salaam.

I sat down as close as possible to Mardiyyah and looked down at our intertwined hands.

La Ba'sa Thawhoorun In Shaa Allah... Allahmma Ashfihi Allahumma Aafihi...

I repeated those Du'aas over and over again before a tear slipped out of my eyelid and rolled down my cheek. It landed on Mardiyyah's hand and she groaned.My head shot up, but her eyes were still closed. She groaned again.

I looked closer and saw that the white sheets were red, soaked in blood and Mardiyyah was paler than before.