Trust Me (An Islamic Love Story)

Chapter 60

For a moment I just stand there, mourning every single wrong in my life. Raheesh's and my parents' faces flash in front of my eyes, and all the wounds I tried to heal open, but then the world comes crashing back to me, and I remember why I left the mosque in the first place, to get water for the lady. I quickly fill another cup of water from the dispenser and hurry back inside, my face red with embarrassment. "I am sorry," I say breathlessly to her. "I... I got distracted."

"Ahh, it is okay, dear," the woman replies, taking the glass, and I help her drink it. "Forgive me, but I thought for a second that you left. You see, you can hardly trust anyone these days, so I thought you felt overwhelmed by my offer."

"It is okay, don't apologize," I appease, kneeling next to her chair. "I still don't understand why you are asking me to come. I mean why, out of all people, me?"

"Don't underestimate the blind, dear. I could tell you are troubled. That is why I wanted to help," she replies. "If you want to ask around some people about me, you can, before considering my offer. My name is Sabira Dawud. People usually call me Madam Sabira out of courteousness. I am quite a regular visitor to this masjid. It feels like home here."

"No, it is fine. I am ready to come," I agree, which puts a beautiful smile on her face. "But before that, you should know something. I have been hiding so much all my life, fooling myself into thinking people will respect my privacy and let me be. I wish to not repeat this mistake and tell you some things about me."

I expect Madam Sabira to refute my statement, but she merely says, "I see. Go on."

"I am Abeer Irfan," I rather announce.

"I don't see how that changes anything," she says serenely.

"Oh, maybe you don't know, I am the girl who was kidnapped years ago," I admit, hating how I have to address myself.

"It is unfortunate, but I know who you are," she tells me. "You are quite known for this area's history. We believed though you were dead. If you have accepted my offer, should we leave now? My driver is waiting outside."

I'm taken aback by the sudden change of topic. "How come you are still ready to take me with you? After what you know about me?"

"I don't know about the real you, dear," she says patiently. "Our past plays a very important role in our lives. Every person has led a different life, so they view the world in a different light, but that doesn't mean one has to be right and the other wrong. Don't define yourself with your past, Abeer. A person is much more than that."

"Hardly anyone has ever been this kind to me," I say honestly. "I am not sure how much I believe in kindness anymore."

"It is okay to not believe for a while," she consoles, "because sometimes you need a void in your heart before completely filling it with faith."

"You speak really wisely," I comment with a small smile.

She chuckles. "My husband used to say that a lot. I have done courses in psychology and philosophy. I hope that explains it. I'll call my driver."

She reaches for her bag and touches the outside once before taking out a small, outdated mobile to call her driver. As I sit in the car, it hits me how much my life has changed today. I don't know how I feel about it because it just feels the same.

"I know you said my past doesn't define me," I speak to Madam Sabira after a while, "but I really believe you should know what is going on in my life as it would affect you."

"Okay, if it will make you feel better, go on," she consents, facing me.

"The person... the person who abducted me killed himself today in front of me," I declare with much difficulty. How to process the day I spent? "My parents' house is being held by the police as the crime scene as he... and another guy kept me there for about two months. The other guy, Abbas, helped me in the end, but he is still going to jail for his crimes. There are going to be many court hearings, and I suppose the media will get involved at some point because the person who abducted me was—" I stop abruptly. Tears sting in my eyes. How much have I avoided his existence, and yet he doesn't leave me ever, no matter how much I try. Ironic, it is how the people I want to stay, always leave, and the people I wish never stayed, never leave.