Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 53

I am most scared of facing Mom and Pops. I don't know what to expect. I whisper a few duas and words of motivation to myself, and just when I am about to ring the doorbell, someone opens the door, and it is not someone I was expecting to see.

"Abeer?" Maliha exclaims, pulling me into a tight embrace. "Oh God, I thought I would never see you again. Do you know how hard these days have been?"

"Assalamualikum." I can hardly speak as Maliha is squeezing the life out of me.

"Walaikumusalam, Walaikumusalam," she says in a singsong manner, finally letting go of me. "Look who it is, Ahmed."

"Who is it?" Ahmed appears beside Maliha. "Oh my God, Abeer...?" He comes in front of Maliha, almost too excited. "Alhamdulillah, I can't believe it is you. I am so glad to see you."

"Thanks, I guess," I say awkwardly.

A frown replaces his smile as he looks at Maliha. "Do you think we should stay with her when Mom and Pops see she is back?"

"Abeer," Maliha says reluctantly. "We want to be there. I... I don't think Mom will take it so well."

My heart sinks. Mom. She must be so disappointed in me. It is pathetic that I could make neither of my mothers happy.

"I know," I try to sound fine, "I think I can handle it alone. I don't want you two to be involved. It can get messy."

"Okay then, we should get going," Maliha agrees, but Ahmed looks a little uncertain.

"It makes sense if you are hesitant to trust me, Abeer," he says, surprising me with his straightforwardness, "but I want you to know I have matured a little."

I smile slightly as I recall when I called Azar more mature than Ahmed when Ahmed tried to see me without a veil. I was wrong in my judgment too, I guess. "I hope you let it go, Ahmed," I say a bit guiltily. "I was angry at the time when I called you immature. I hardly even know you. Sorry about my outburst."

"I will let it go if you do." He pauses, glancing at Maliha for an unsaid approval before looking back at me and saying, "We can tell you feel as if you are all alone. We want to let you know that we are here for you. You can trust us, Abeer. You want anything— any help of any kind —we both will try our best to do all we can."

"Thank you, Ahmed. That means a lot." His words provide me with a lot of unexpected consolation.

"Well done, Ahmed! You are getting good at that," Maliha appreciates, hitting him playfully in the shoulder. "Oh, Abeer, oh my God, I almost forgot," she cries out. "Does Azar know you are here? I can't wait to tell him. He will be at cloud nine."

I don't know whether I should cry or laugh at the choice of her words. "He knows, and our decision has changed."

"What...? But I thought...?" She questions in bemusement.

"We aren't meant to be, Maliha." Why do I have to say this aloud again and again and why does it hurt even more than before every single time? "You can ask him yourself if you don't believe me."

"Abeer," she says sympathetically, placing her hands over mine. "Are you okay?"

"I am as fine as I can be, Alhamdulillah," I say, the words cringingly revised. "Don't worry."

"Okay," Maliha says, unconvinced, but lets it go, knowing she can't get anything out of me.

We exchange numbers and say our goodbyes, and I head inside the house much more reluctant than I expected myself. I stop behind Mom and gather up all the courage inside me to call her. "Mom?" I address barely, my voice failing me.