Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 33

"Azar, Abeer." Azar corrects, his eyes still on the wound. He sounds bothered, yet he doesn't seem angry.

There is an uncomfortable silence between us, and I can hear my heart pounding. My throat dries up, and I am unable to look at Azar. I'm waiting for him to question me, waiting for him to ask me questions I didn't want to answer, waiting for him to dig my past out, but he doesn't do so.

Instead, he gets up and says, "It's done. Change it before going to sleep."

I realize he isn't looking me in the eye, but I ignore it. I get up, wear my scarf and veil and head out to pray because I am not comfortable praying in front of Azar.

I pray Asr and in Sujood I make dua. Oh Allah, I need You to get me through this. I need Your Help to be patient and to be strong enough. I'm afraid of Azar, Ya Rabb. I don't know why he is the way he is, but You are Our Lord, and you are Alaam; You know everything. Guide me and guide him to the straight path. Clear my doubts, Oh Allah, make me see. Pardon me for my sins and give me opportunities to gain good deeds. Please be pleased with me, Oh Lord. I only have You. Ameen.

I fold the prayer mat and head outside to the kitchen. I see Maliha, and as I approach her, I realize she is muttering something under her breath. Uh-oh. It must be something serious. Maliha does this when she is angry.

"Maliha?" I ask cautiously. "Is everything alright?"

She turns towards me with a startle. "I'm fine... How are you doing?"

"Please don't lie, Maliha. I am here for you," I say, stepping slightly closer.

Maliha reduces the heat of the stove and heads to the lounge. "Ahmed is acting unusual, Abeer."

My stomach does a backflip. "What made you think so?"

"He keeps bringing Azar in every topic," she says, annoyed. "He is extremely jealous."

"People get jealous when they have low-self esteem," I say softly. "Make him feel worthy." I kill my thoughts and say, "Both Azar and Ahmed have their own talents and flaws. It only makes them human. They need to realize they are different from one another so they can't compare themselves."

"I'm trying so hard to make him understand, Abeer," she replies with a sigh and massages her temples. "He asked me a very stupid and inappropriate question a day or two ago." In the back of my head, I know what's coming. "He asked me whether you are more or less beautiful than me."

"What did you say?" I ask in a quiet voice.

"I told him that it was the most ridiculous thing he has ever asked me." She rolls her eyes. "We both are pretty in our own way. Some people find you prettier, and some people find me prettier. Does it really matter?" I shake my head. "He wants to compare me with Azar's wife." It feels weird to hear Maliha address me that way, maybe because she emphasized more than I am comfortable with.

A lone tear makes down Maliha's face, and I go still. My heart clenches at the sight of her crying. "It's ironic. I am getting what I deserve. This is my punishment for making you feel so low. I see Ahmed following my footsteps, and I am helpless."

"No, Maliha," I deny when I find my voice. "It's not your fault. I forgave you. It's alright. It's okay to make mistakes."

"I don't want him to make the same mistake as I did," she says, brushing away the tears.

"Tell him," I advise her with certainty. "Tell him how you..."

"Were jealous?" She completes, noticing how uneasy I feel saying it aloud. "You can say it, Abeer. I was jealous. If anyone should be ashamed of saying it, it should be me."