Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 48

Brace yourselves

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I can hear my name. Someone is talking to me. Someone is shaking me. I don't want to talk. I don't want to wake up. Why doesn't everything end? When will the end come?

"You have to wake up, Abeer," the words get clearer, and I realize it is not Raheesh.

Just that gave me a surge of hope. Just that it is not his voice. How easy it is to hope and how easy it is to lose it. I open my eyes with a jolt. How come I always do?

"He was here," I announce immediately, as I try to sit up. My voice barely comes out, so I speak louder, "He is alive. He came back for me. I knew he would."

"Abeer—"

"He doesn't want to kill me," I ramble on.

"Listen—"

"He is going to make everyone I love hate me, and they will try to kill me." Saying it aloud even worsens it.

"I am—"

"I wish I was dead already," I exclaim. "Wouldn't that be easier? He is right. Death is mercy. Death is mercy."

"Abeer!" My heart stops beating for a split second.

"You are not Azar."

"Yes, I am not," Abbas replies quietly. "You must be having a bad dream."

"NO!" I oppose, suffocated by how everything I feared has come true. "He was here for real! I know. I was running away from him all along. I can tell what is real and what is not. I am not insane! He was here!"

"Okay, okay, okay," he soothes as if speaking to a child. "Just calm down, Abeer." I just don't like it when he says my name. Why does he say it like that? "You had an accident. Do you remember—?"

"Yes," I reply before he can even complete it. "I was with Azar, and then when I woke up, there was—"

"It was a pretty rough accident," he interrupts me. "The doctors told you broke your left wrist, sprained your neck and legs, and badly bruised your ribs. You also had stitches on your back."

"I know everything hurts. I just don't care. I just want to go somewhere he won't find me." Tears leave my eyes. What am I doing? Begging this stranger for help? How is he going to help me? He knows nothing.

"Listen to me," Abbas insists gently, handing me a tissue. "If what you are saying is true, I will try my best to get that man arrested. Okay?"

I don't answer him. He doesn't know what he can do. Nothing in this world can hold him. Nothing, but Allah.

"Now, someone is waiting for you outside. I want you to stay calm, okay?" He asks with an unreadable expression. He then raises his voice, "Send him in!"

Azar enters the room. Oh Allah...

"Azar!" I exclaim in panic as I try to stand up. He should not be here. I cannot see him get hurt.

"What are you doing, dear?" Abbas asks, with concern, helping me stand up by supporting his arm around my shoulders.

Through the fogginess of my anxiety, I register his choice of words. Did he just call me dear?

"Azar..." I ignore him, but as I try to walk towards Azar, stabbing pain shoots through my legs.

"I told you to be calm, honey," Abbas adds softly, confusing me even more.

"What—"

He cuts in. "It is okay, dear Abeer. Azar can't harm you anymore."

"What are you saying?" I ask him reproachfully. I look at Azar, who is shaking with his fists clenched, not meeting my bemused gaze. "Azar hasn't harmed me," I manage to string the words together. "And stop calling me that."