chapter 6

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Hairah

"Ali..." I call him. He pops his head up to face me. His eyes scream innocence.
His face voices purity.

Ya Allah! What should I do?

I try my best to keep myself relaxed before them. I struggle to keep my face expressionless. I don't want to give them anything, not hope, not disappointment. Just nothing.

I don't want them to ask me anything now. I don't know what to answer. But my luck is not on my side because Ihsan's mother speaks, "They divorced when Ali was a month old."

Thankfully it's not a question to me. But what she said pains me. How can a mother leave their child? And a month-old baby? How heartless would be she? I examine Ali. His eyes are big with dark brown irises, and long lashes that brushed his chubby cheeks whenever he blinked. His nose was tiny. Lips that are strawberry colored. I brush his chubby cheeks. It was so velvety. How can someone leave this innocent one behind?

"Hairah?" I hear Ihsan's voice. Uncertain, I gaze at her. Her face is full of hopefulness, desperation, and regret. I need time, Ya Allah.

"My brother's name is Ibrahim. I have told you before." She trails off as she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting, "he doesn't know about you or this talk. We- we just want a mother for Ali, you know. He- he-" she hesitates saying. Maybe she is at a loss for words. "Take your time. We just asked you in a hurry because yesterday, you said your mother is searching for a groom. I- I don't want to be late."

I couldn't face them so I peer at Ali. He is still very busy playing with my hijab.
I want to leave. But I am not mad at them. I don't have any hard feelings toward them. It's just that I need time before answering. "Can I text you later?" I ask. My voice is barely audible.

"Eh? Yes, yea." Ihsan mumbles. I hand Ali back to her and say my salaam before leaving.

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Ibrahim

"Mr. Hameed? Wake up." I hear someone call my name. I shift lightly. Whoever it is, is disturbing me. "Mr. Hameed? Are you okay?" Again the same voice. Hesitantly, I open an eye. Soon, the other opened when I realize that I am in my office. I look at the person who woke me up. Alex. He raises his eyebrows in questioning.

"Yes, I'm alright. Sorry, I took a nap." When did I fall asleep? I was typing on my computer then when?

"You can take a break. Don't push yourself too much." He informs as he pats my shoulder and strolls away. Alex is my senior. Well, he knows that I am a single dad. He helped me a lot when I was struggling with my work after the divorce.

My face aches. I can't believe I fell asleep on the keyboard. Even my back ache from sitting in an uncomfortable position for so long. I stand up and stretch a bit. Then I make my way to the washroom. I need to wash my face.

I never take a nap in the office. Today, I woke at 2:55 am. When Ali woke up in the middle of the night, as usual, I tried my best to make him sleep. But he didn't sleep that means me neither. We just stayed up all night! I hope Ali is sleeping now. He was also tired.

I stand in front of the mirror to wash my face. Ya Allah! What's th- keyboard?
My face is reddened in small squares. Great. Rolling my sleeves up, I wash my face. Rubbing tiredness off my face. I just want to lie down on my bed.

The dark circles under my eyes were very well visible. I probably should buy an under-eye cream. I hear a specific notification from my phone, indicating the duhr adhan is being called. After fixing my shirt, I go to the nearest mosque. 

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