Islamically Ever After

Chapter Twenty Five

• Bismillahirahmanalrahim •

Please if you guys haven't prayed yet, make sure you stop reading, pray and return. This story can wait but Allah (swt) only knows that time doesn't.

Enjoy reading and May Allah (swt) grant all those reading this firdous.

Salams,
Your Sister In Islam

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Ihsans POV
As life does, it went on and although my pain yearned for a stop, that wasn't possible. I returned to uni, food re-entered my system and Fatima surprised me with news of her nikkah to Abu Bakr. Hamdilah that couldn't have come at a better time as it kept my mind off a specific someone.

Night wasn't as easy, bittersweet dreams flooded my every sleep and the morning left me a fresh wave of pain. Dreams of our marriage, children, home dazzled me with hope, happiness and love, only to wake up alone and broken. My brain hated him but ya Allah, did my heart yearn for him. Subhanallah it wasn't his touch, wealth or affluence I craved, for Hamdilah I hadn't experienced that part of him but it was his speech, his demeanour, his mere presence.

In saying that, I would never, ever NEVER, EVER, go back to him. No matter what! He had broken my heart and left me to mend the pieces without a valid reason. A little voice reminded me though that I didn't know what his reason was, but really...what could it possibly be? His parents changed their mind? I doubt that because Khalto Amatullah had messaged me comforting words and apologising on behalf of her son. So really, no excuse was valid. My heart would return to him in less than a heartbeat but my stubborn pride would never. Never! I don't need a man.

Who am I kidding?! I need him. So badly...

Yusufs POV
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days but time would not mend my broken soul. In a mere span of a month, a beautiful woman named Ihsan had latched onto my heart and become a part of my very existence. I needed her like humans need air, like Saudi needs Arabia, like watt needs pad, like Quran needs Sunnah, like salah needs wudu, like the earth needs the sky and like I, Yusuf need Ihsan.

I couldn't remember the last time I slept, ate or smiled. Time became a meaningless span of digits and everyone around me could see it. They tried to help me, but the thing about help is that you need to want to be helped. And I don't want to be helped.

My life pretty much consisted of Sheikh studies and home. I left the house before Fajr, spent my day at the masjid and returned after Isha only to torture myself the night by depriving myself of sleep. Coffee became my dark companion, a bittersweet friend indeed.

Sheikh Umar was the only one who didn't notice, rather the opposite seeing as my marks improved having all this spare time on my hands. Ilham was worried but was busy with her baby who was due in a week inshallah. Mama was also occupied with Ilham. As for baba, he couldn't do much because he didn't really know what to do. No one did for that matter, because quite simply, this situation was an alien one. Yusuf was the comforter, the rock, the constant, the sensible one and now he was a mess and no one knew how to handle it. And to top that off, Sara, my sister was coming back home for a little while from the Middle East and definitely be a handful.

I was constantly met with sympathetic eyes at my current state but a resolution was out of reach. Very far out of reach...

Ihsans POV
"Are you sure you're okay?" Fatima asked for what seemed to e the millionth time that day snapping me out of my thoughts of a certain sheikh in training. "Huh, sorry, what did you say Hun?" I said dazzled. "Are you okay?" She questioned sympathetically. "Fine Habibti. Just fine. Got lost in thought is all." I spoke, plastering a fake smile on my face that she saw straight through. She glanced at me one more time before the hair dresser turned her face, applying some more hair spray. It was her special day, the day that was supposed to have been shared between us. Our weddings were scheduled on the same day, but Allah (swt) had it otherwise. Alhamdulilah.