Dawud.

Chapter 36: Praying, Praying and Praying

  بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful  

Jannah's P.O.V

I paced back and forth, begging Allah (swt) to keep my husband safe. Rahman couldn't be trusted. He was a threat to everyone he interacted with and now the love of my life was confronting him. They were fighting. The athaan played from the phone in my trembling hand and I set it down and raced towards the washroom. Upon doing my wudhu, I refused to look in the mirror. I already knew how bloodshot red my eyes were. I was already cognizant of how swollen and heavy my eyelids were. I finished and grabbed Dawud's prayer mat folded skillfully on his bedside table. It smelt of him.

And then I prayed.

And prayed.

And prayed some more.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Dawud's P.O.V

As footsteps approached the door, I inhaled deeply. Knowing Jannah, she'd burst into tears upon seeing me. Before I could finish preparing myself for the waterworks soon to arrive, the door creaked open. I used my index finger to give it a light push and watched as Jannah took a steady step back, keeping her eyes on my feet. "Assalamu'Alaykum." She hardly susurrated. I bit my lip to stop myself from frowning. I hated seeing her this way.

"Wa Alaykum Salam." I replied. She stayed quiet. "Jannah." I opened my arms for her and she embraced me, stuffing her face into my lower chest. She was short after all. I shut the door with my foot and kissed her head. "From now on, the only guy you have to worry about is me." I told her, leaning down to meet her eyes. She gasped upon seeing me. Her shaky hand stroked the skin above my eyebrow as her eyes moistened with tears.

She struggled to speak before calling me a "Maniac."

I chuckled and winced, feeling alarmed at the throbbing pressure on my upper lip. Rahman really did a number on me. I would never tell that to her, though. It would shatter her to pieces. Instead, I kissed her, deeply and completely, pressing my forehead against hers. The beautiful specks in her eyes caught my attention and made me realize that we had been married for less than a week now. Given all the drama that occurred before our marriage, I genuinely didn't expect any less during our marriage, however this time I had a firm trust in Allah. I knew that His Mercy exceeds all and so I silently prayed in my heart that Jannah and I would last through thick and thin.

She grabbed the bottom of my shirt and fiddled with the hem. I watched her silently as she took a deep breath. It was now that I realized she had been giving a lot of thought into the words she'd say. This wasn't something she usually did. "You have to pray, Dawud." She reminded me. I felt my stomach drop upon hearing those words.

How could I forget? I was so distracted by Rahman, by the drama, by these worldly issues, that I completely forgot about my prayer. The one thing I always prioritized was my prayer and now that the sun was slowly setting and Asr prayer had nearly passed, I felt sick to my stomach. I separated myself from Jannah and raced towards the washroom to do my wudhu.

After praying, praying and praying. I stood up and left our bedroom. I felt spiritually cleansed.. as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Jannah was in the kitchen, standing by the stove with her shoulders slumped forward. She had changed into her pajamas: a simple pink dress with long sleeves, lace trimming that ended a few inches above her knees and pink bunny slippers. I called her name and she replied with a flat "Mhm."

"You know," I started, "people usually have the most fun on the first few days of their marriage."

She looked up at me with a quivering lip. It took her a few moments to speak. "If you're referring to our wedding night, I'm sorry, I just feel like-"

I pressed a finger against her tender lips and clicked my tongue. "Never in a million years would I push you to do something you're not ready for."

Jannah laughed grimly to herself. "You're too good for me." She announced, more towards herself than to me. "I mean, look at me! I'm just a stupid, stupid little girl who can't take care of herself!" She threw the wooden spoon she was using into the sink. It split in half. "Our wedding night, I fall on the floor and cut my knee. I haven't been able to forget about it. It's been clouding my mind and I swear, I don't know why you bother with me." She fumed. "This whole mess today was my fault entirely. I shouldn't have... I should have never..." It was then that her knees buckled and she let herself slid down against the refrigerator.

This time, I didn't touch her. I simply moved the alfredo sauce she was reheating on the stove onto the counter under a rag and sat across from her against the lower cabinets. She cried quietly to herself and I quietly waited for her to finish. When the kitchen was no longer filled with the sound of her weeping, I spoke. "Jannah, the moment I laid my eyes on you, I felt something. Something I've never felt before in my life. I felt belonging. My heart was yours at the bookstore in late December, at the mosque that Jummah, at your father's house that Saturday. My heart was yours in the alley with Parihan, at the basketball game, in this apartment with your parents. Your clumsiness is one of the many things I love about you. You're not my Jannah if you can last a day without tripping over air." Upon hearing this, she grinned. "I'm older than you, yes, but you've experienced pain and suffering far beyond your due time. I can only dream of having as much wisdom as you have." I paused, formulating the words I'd have to say next. Jannah was listening to my statements carefully. I didn't want to say anything that would upset her. "Today just showed me how much I appreciate and treasure you. It hasn't changed the way I see you or made me love you any less. I-"

Jannah leaped into my lap, locking her arms around my neck. I blinked a few times, taken aback by this outburst. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad. She kissed my cheek softly. "I love you." She finally said.

*

Jannah was the most breathtaking thing I've ever witnessed. There was no doubt that I was deeply in love with her. I pressed a finger down her back, tracing patterns as she breathed softly. She was fast asleep and so I seized the opportunity to admire her silently. If she had been awake, she'd cover her face with the duvet, embarrassed and shy. She was tucked right between my arms and I felt her very heartbeat. I fell asleep to the rhythm.