Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 52

We arrive at Azar's place after five minutes. I reach the door before Mama and Baba do and ring the bell, even though I feel extremely vulnerable to Azar's reaction.

It is okay.

It is going to be fine.

Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear. You are strong, Abeer.

It is fine.

I resist the urge to embrace Azar as he opens the door, as I feel grateful to see him alive. My heart tightens at the sight of his bloodshot eyes, and I hope it is just because of the lack of sleep and not because of crying. Before he snaps out of his shock of seeing me and slams the door in my face, I rapidly say, "Before you say or do anything you'll regret later, you should know that your parents are right behind me."

He clenches the door handle so tightly that I am afraid he might have bruised himself.

"Assalamualikum, Azar," Mama and Baba say in unison.

"Walaikumusalam," he replies, loosening his grip on the handle at their sight. "Come inside." He lets the door open wide to make room. "I was just about to make breakfast for myself. You two can join in."

"Three, you mean," Baba corrects him as he heads inside.

Azar pauses briefly, composing himself. "Of course."

"Azar, you look tired. Didn't you sleep well last night?" Mama asks, cupping his face.

"Yeah. I was working late last night," he affirms with a weak smile.

I cannot bear to look at him, his face reminding me of too many things I don't wish to remember. "Have you... have you both forgiven me?" The hesitation in his voice is quite pronounced.

"We love you, Azar," Mama says, her voice trembling. "Of course, we forgive you. In fact, Abeer is the one you should ask forgiveness from."

"There is no need for that," I interject, afraid he would blow up.

Azar doesn't respond and heads toward the kitchen. "I'll make the breakfast," Mama offers, and after a bit of insistence, he gives in and heads inside the house with Baba.

I follow them, and my stomach jolts as I look around. All of the furniture is replaced and everything about it is so different, so warm as compared to before from the color scheme to the lighting and the floor and wall finishes. Azar probably wanted to erase the memory of the fire from my mind. Wanted, I tell myself. Not anymore. This isn't for you anymore.

I remain quiet as we eat in the dining area, listening to Azar's conversation with his parents, trying not to interrupt a normal family moment. They are talking about work, but the thing that touches me is the way Azar speaks with so much hope. There is bliss underlying beneath his anger, the bliss that he has with his parents. Maybe uniting him with his parents is worth all the heartache. My breath hitches slightly as my thoughts go to my parents. I hope they are in a better place, I pray silently to Allah, the thought of them too painful.

During the entire conversation, Azar doesn't ask why I am here even once, ignoring my presence altogether. I don't mind this at all as it is far better than the hate that would come with the acknowledgment.

After finishing breakfast, Mama and Baba head back home, and just when Mama and Baba are about to leave, Baba addresses us finally, "You two are independent adults and have a sound mind to make decisions for yourselves. Even though it is extremely painful for us that you two want to end your marriage so soon, we understand why you do so given the circumstances you started with, and we fully respect whatever decision you are going to take."