A Muslim's Romantic Journey

Chapter 34.

Safia’s POV

I tried to stop dad, Uncle Yahya and Hamza from leaving but they wouldn’t listen. I sat down pulling my hijab over my face as if it would help me hide from my problems.

“Hafsa, Faiza, you both go upstairs where Samiya, Zayna and Amaan are with Musa and Sara.”

“But-“ Hafsa began to protest.

“Hafsa. I said go.’ Hafsa and Faiza reluctantly left the room. Mum, Aunty Asma and Aisha remained. There was Zidan too but of course he didn’t understand anything. I was envious of how simple life was for him. If only I could be a baby or a toddler again, I thought to myself.

“Safia, Yusuf may have made a mistake but so did you.” Were they going to make me feel guilty even though I was already drowning in tons of guilt? “You shouldn’t have spoken to him in that way. But it looks like you already know that.” I took my hijab off my face and nodded.

“What are they going to say to him?” I asked weakly.

“Don’t worry.” Aunty Asma said. “I’m sure they have it under control. Yahya won’t let anything get out of hand.” She spoke of her husband so fondly.

“Did you ever have any problems?” I asked her.

“Yahya and I had our little ups and downs. How do I explain it? Marriage and love is sort of like a drug. It has its extreme highs and extreme lows.” That sounded very relatable. I was having a very extreme low right now.

“Did you have any extreme lows?”

“Of course, that’s unfortunately life. But the important thing is we got through it.”

“Will Yusuf and I get through it?” Aunty Asma looked at me thoughtfully. Why wasn’t she saying yes right away?

“I don’t want to get your hopes up because this isn’t a normal issue. This is different from the things couples usually fight about.” My heart, my stomach, my throat and my head had weird painful feeling which swirled even stronger as Aunty Asma doubted mine and Yusuf’s reconciliation. It made me sick. “But I pray that you do get through this. Remember to pray at iftar time every day of Ramadan Safia. That’s when your prayers are more likely to get accepted.”

“Thank you.” I said. We made small talk as we patiently waited for the guys to come home. Zidan started to cry while Aisha just stared at him for a while. Every Ramadan since Aisha and Tariq got their own house; she came around after iftar everyday while Tariq went to the mosque for Taraweeh.

“I’ve been picking him up all day, I’m so tired. Could you hold him Safia? Please?” Aisha asked. I was now noticing how Aisha always used this excuse and gave him to someone else to hold. Or she would say she was sick, or had a back ache. Then the rest of the family would take care of Musa, Sara and Zidan.

 Look at Aisha, dumping her children on anyone every chance she gets.

Yusuf’s words came into my mind. I loved my nephews and niece and I didn’t mind taking care of them at all. So why was I feeling so annoyed? It occurred to me that it wasn’t that I didn’t want to take care of Zidan. It was the way Aisha always made someone else supervise them while she escaped from the responsibilities. They were her children, her priority. Yet she treated them like a burden.

“Okay.” I agreed picking him up and putting him in my lap. Aisha ran off. I made a plane with my hand and crashed it into Zidan’s neck to make him laugh. I hugged him tight, thinking about the conversation my family would be having with Yusuf.

Dreadful things went through my mind such as a fist fight. I discarded the thought and tried to think positively. Maybe dad, Uncle Yahya and Hamza would come back with Yusuf! And Yusuf would cuddle me and tell me he was sorry and then take me away. I imagined him holding me, his lips close to my ears as he spoke. I imagined him twirling my hair in his fingers as he gazed at me lovingly. It was only when Zidan pinched my face hard, did I snap out of that daydream.