The Three Struggling Muslimahs

51

"You've got to tell someone!"

"I'm telling you guys, ain't I?"

"Khawla are you serious! We're six year olds!"

Khawla had called her brothers for a 'serious' discussion on whether or not she was currently mentally stable.

"Anywaaaay, when mama comes tell her I went to see Maryam. Okay?"
They nodded.

Khawla was the kind of person who was obsessed with her family. She felt the need to talk to them daily, know what they felt on certain topics and so on. She adored her little brothers for they kept up with her in ways that even Muhammad couldn't.

When she was about to leave, Amer called her aside.

"Hilwa, listen to what she'll say. Okay?" The boy always left Khawla dumbfounded when such things were said. It was like he understood everything she was going through without her having to voice them out. She hugged him and the rest and finally began to walk towards Maryam's place. It wasn't a stone throw away and neither was it kilometers away but she knew she needed the air.

Ten minutes later she was at Maryam's gate and was greeted by three lovely looking young girls that she assumed were her sisters.

"Assalamu Aleikum Khaltu Khawla," she could feel butterflies in her stomach, "We'll take you to Khaltu Maryam. She's upstairs."

The girls fluttered their way up the stairs as Khawla followed closely. By the second, she was beginning to feel lighter, and weird enough, more at home. She said salaams to Maryam and another lady who was sitting on a muswalah and Khawla concluded that she had just offered her prayers.

"Waaleikum Salaam Khawla. This is Riyah, an old friend of mine. She just got back from the states so don't mind her annoying accent."
Khawla gave a weak smile as Riyah began to argue that she didn't have an accent. She was still confused as to why Maryam wanted to talk to her and if she was to have her way, she would ask her right there in the open but virtues were key and for that she kept quiet and waited.

"Lemme go get us some treats I'll be right back." Maryam excused herself.

Unknown to Khawla, this was all part of a plan. A plan that would either help her or break her.

"Assalamu Aleikum once again lovely,"

"Waaleikum Salaam," Khawla responded.

"Maryam has been telling me a lot about you. And congratulations on completing your four years of high school."

"Shukraan. Means alot. So what do you do? Study, work!?"
Khawla couldn't help but think that Riyah looked at whole lot like Umar. Or maybe she was just imagining it.

"I work with the flying doctors association. Just got a three week leave so I thought I'd drop by and spend some time with friends."

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwww Masha Allah! Flying doctors! That's amazing!"

"Jazakillah lovely."

"Wa Antum. So you and Maryam are family?"

"Friends. My family and I moved out of here about five to six years ago. Though I'm looking for some few people that I might know."

"I've lived here all my life. Maybe I could help."

"I wouldn't want to impose myself on..."

"Noooooooooooooo! I am so bored at home, I have nothing to do so this will definitely help in one way or another."

"Okay, well we used to live with my cousin. But tradegy struck his family so we had to leave. It kills me to this day for we were so close and I was practically his big sister."

Words were beginning to fail Khawla but she swallowed and asked, "What's his name!?"

"Umar!"
What were the chances that Riyah was referring to the one and only Umar that Khawla had been trying to avoid to talk about.

"Khawla. You know him!?"
She nodded.

"He lives with my best friend and her family. They took him in after the terrible occurrence. I could take you to him."
Riyah looked as though Khawla had suggested suicide.

"I left him alone when he needed me the most. If I were him, I'd never want to see me again."

"But that's the thing. You are not. Umar is one of the most forgiving people I know. He would act as though none of it ever happened. He needs his family right now more than you need him. Trust me, go see him."

"You have no idea what happened that's why you are so positive."

But Riyah had no idea. No one knew that Umar had described the scene ever so precisely to Khawla. No one knew that Umar had asked Khawla to pray for him for he could feel himself come so close to his breaking point. But no one needed to know that.

"Riyah, it doesn't benefit either of us if I'm wrong. But it does all of us if I'm right. Pray about it. Ask Allah to help you. But keep in mind that Allah is who His servants think Him to be. If you believe He will help, He will. If not ... But please don't take this chance of Umar being happy away from him. Go see him."

"How does it benefit you?"

"He's happiness is our happiness."
At that precise moment, Riyah knew that Khawla liked her little boy in the same way she'd hoped she'd learn to love her husband. But that was a topic for another day.

"I'm so sorry I took so long," Maryam explained as she strolled in with a tray of cold milk and chocolate cookies." But Khawla wasn't feeling hungry anymore. She was in the process of healing. She had just realized she knew Umar more that she thought she did. And all she needed to do was talk to him. For what brought to people closer together than an honest conversation?

A/N:
@RiyahRoxy this one is for you.