Twice Upon Qadr - A Shot At Love **EDITING**

Chapter 50

Salaam! AHHHH in honor of chapter 50, the writing style is going to be a little different in this chapter. I used to write a lot of books this way and was missing the format. So here is something different for today! Lol I hope you like it! Stay awesome! :)

How perfectly fitting that the rain would choose today of all days to flow along the windowsill like the most agonizing of tears. Perhaps she would not have paid notice to it any other day if Houssam had not departed to New York at this very moment. She was trying so hard not to allow him entrance into her mind, for it was like tearing open a wound just as it was on the cusp of healing. But she also couldn’t deny herself the privilege of thinking of him. He consumed her every thought, and she had been distant and withdrawn lately. She didn’t like being overcome to such a degree by him, especially when he wasn’t even there anymore, and she hoped that InshaAllah she would be able to recover soon. She didn’t need this feeling of loneliness and heartache that threatened to break her.  

“Hana? Habibti?”

She looked up at the tap on her bedroom door, and as her Mother’s face came into view, she beckoned her forward.

“Yes Mama?”

“How are you doing habibti?”

She smiled softly as if to convey the sentiments she couldn’t express in words.

“I’m okay.”

Her mother, sensing that all was not well, pulled her into a tight embrace, only to peer anxiously into her face once she had relinquished her hold.

“Are you in pain?”

Oh how her heart was in agony!

“No more than usual.” Was her reply, and while she attempted to sound carefree, there is no way to escape the knowing heart of your mother.

“You’re thinking of Houssam.”

It was not meant as a question, but as a statement said from someone who knew something for a fact.

“I haven’t been able to stop.” She whispered, and to her dismay she felt her cheeks quickly become damp under the flow of tears she had been unable to stop ever since he had gone back to LA. His parting words had been just as excruciating as they were heartwarming, and she could not have forgotten them if she had tried.

 It is not fair for me to ask of you to wait. I can only imagine the life I would prevent you from living if you were to stay waiting. But know that if, when I return, you have not had your heart taken by someone else, I am yours. I am yours heart and soul.

Those words were now engraved to such a permanent degree on her heart, that it was almost painful.

He had left her after expressing his last sentiments, the lingering doubts in his eyes, the hesitation in his stance as if all he wanted to do was throw himself into her embrace and remain there forever. However she could not keep him, no matter how desperately she wanted to, and sooner than she was prepared for, he was gone.

She had cried.

She would not deny it. She had cried into the chest of her little niece who while she did not understand what truly had happened, she felt the gravity of it in the sense that her Amu Houssam was gone, and her Amtu was left in tears. She did not need to be an adult to put two and two together. To realize that whatever they had had between them, would be no more.

“Habibti, I can’t stand to see you hurting over him. You told him to go.”

As if she needed reminding. As if she needed her mother to point out that she had practically begged him to leave her. It had been her doing and hers alone. But perhaps it was better this way. For if she had asked him to stay, and he refused, she would know that there was no true affection on his part. This way, with her encouragement being the foundation of his departure, she could still hold onto the flicker of hope that while he had gone to chase after his dream, he had left his heart behind.