Converting the Bad Boy ✔

Epilogue

So...this happened.

I wasn't planning on ending the story, but then I realised it was better to end it on a high note, instead of a low, if ya know what I mean...

But fear not, for I have plans for one shots of this story which I will be posting during my holidays, which start next Saturday 25th June (YAY!) Everyone loves one shots, so keep this story in your library because IT'S NOT OVER YET! I am not that cruel that I'd leave you without finding out the juicy details of the rest of their lives, but I decided this epilogue would be a great way to wrap up the official story. 

DEDICATED TO ALL MY READERS, BECAUSE THERE ARE JUST SO MANY OF YOU AND I WISH I COULD DEDICATE A CHAPTER TO EACH, BUT THEN I'D HAVE TO WRITE 200 MORE CHAPTERS LOL

^Song above is perfect for #Dariam 'Never Seen Anything Quite Like You' by the Script ❤

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Mariam's POV

"I miss her."

Those three words were like a stab to the heart, but I kept my cool and snuggled against him, murmuring into his shirt, "Me too."

It had been a year – one full year – without the most wonderful woman I had ever met in my life. The earth had made one revolution around the sun while the sunshine of our lives had been taken away.

"I had another dream about her last night," Damian said, his voice rumbling in his chest as I lay my head in the nook of his shoulder, a spot I found to be very comfortable. "We were at the beach, and she was wading into the water. She kept walking into the ocean, until I couldn't see her anymore. I called for her but she was...she was gone." Damian swallowed, and hearing his dream brought tears to my eyes, tears I blinked away.

"She loved the beach," he continued in a soft whisper, almost as if he were talking to himself.

"Allah yarhamha," I murmured, which meant God bless her soul. The last days of her life were hard for all of us, and what helped us through was the fact that she was a Believer, and she never stopped praying. Her last words to me were, "It's okay not to be okay, but please, don't pretend to be okay when you're not. I know you, Mariam."

I know you.

How thankful I was that I had known her.

I closed my eyes and listened to the breath flow through him, in and out, a constant motion that we ourselves had no conscious control over, because only Allah had the full control of the life within us, as well as the life around us. How thankful I was for the people in my life – people like Damian. But people was such a general term that had no power to convey what Damian meant to me. He was more than just a person. He was my soulmate, chosen by Allah. And frankly, I wasn't complaining.

"Let's do something," I proposed, shifting my head to look up at him. He just continued to regard me through his eyelashes, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. "Let's go somewhere far away."

"And never come back?" Damian added with a lopsided smile.

"Of course we have to come back," I opposed dejectedly. "But before we do come back, we should just let go of everything, all our problems, and clear our heads."

"Like a second honeymoon?" Damian smirked.

"I guess you could call it that." I smiled at the memory of our honeymoon. We originally wanted to postpone it since going away on vacation was way too soon after Kareema's passing, with only four months between, but Damian's father, who had taken her passing the hardest, insisted that we still enjoy ourselves, and go on a holiday. So we stayed for four days in a resort in Sabah, Malaysia, and it definitely was the best experience of my life. We had gone horseback riding along the beach, gone on a sunset cruise around the islands, trekking through the jungle and tasted some really delicious cuisine. But on top of that, Damian and I got to know each other on a whole new level.