RUWAIDA ✔️

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

A beautiful Friday morning. It started prettily, Ruwaida and Muhammad visited her first home, luckily even her father was yet to leave for work. They spent a few hours, Muhammad seemed to have a brotherly talk with Abdul as they conversed about football, while Ruwaida sat listening and laughing at Barra's endless blabbers. Since the girl became vocal, no one heard the end of it. She keeps blabbering about everything, tho, they rarely understood her babyish talks.

And when it was a little past eleven, Muhammad decided they leave for the hospital, hoping Dr Zainab wouldn't say they came late, despite the fact that, they did.

On their arrival, an old nurse shuffled towards them, a bunch of blue files piled in her arms. She turned to Ruwaida first with a smile and then to Muhammad, her expression suddenly showing disappointment. "Dr Zainab had been distressed all day, waiting for you in her office, why are you late?," she huffed and adjusted the files, feeling her hands sore from taking one file to another across the doctors offices since early hours of the day.

Muhammad gave her a small smile. "Madame Hauwa, we had somewhere important we had to go, I hope the day care bed is set," He asked. She nodded but looked unsure. "Could you inform Dr Zainab that we're here?," she nodded once again before walking down the lounge. Muhammad held Ruwaida's hand as they made their way to the day care bed but surprisingly it was empty; non was there. Nevertheless, Ruwaida changed into the hospital gown, and they both sat waiting patiently for Dr Zainab.

Some few minutes later, Dr Zainab sent a junior nurse, asking for Muhammad's presence in her office. "Here's my phone, I'll just talk to Dr Zainab and be back shortly," He leaned forward, pecked her forehead and then placed the phone beside her. Ruwaida looked down at the phone, successfully hiding the tint of pink that adored her cheeks and Muhammad gave a teasing smile before walking out the room. He could never understand her shyness.

"Finally! You've arrived. Good morning Dr M Ibraheem," Dr Zainab started, moving from the tall chess of document drawers to her table. Muhammad sat too, watching as she pushed a file to him. He did not open it. He scrutinized it for awhile, his brows creased with utter confusion, seeing 'Ruwaida Mahmoud' inscribed on the name tag. Sadly enough, before he could ask her any questions, the door clicked and as it yaw opened, Ali walked in.

"Dr. Ali," Muhammad murmured, their evasiveness arousing his sense of curiosity, and eventually, he began to feel worried. "Is a meeting supposed to take place before the commencement of the treatment," He released a small dry laugh, shaking Ali's hand as he sat on the chair opposite him, keeping his every-day bag beside his leg. Ali did not like at all what was about to commence.

"Good morning Muhammad," Ali shared a short glance with Zainab while Muhammad replied him.

"I'm suddenly worried, is something wrong?," Muhammad unconsciously placed his hand to hold the metallic railing on the table, just an inch away from the file, looking respectively between the two doctors.

Dr Zainab sighed loudly, her fingers crossed into each other. "I think you should check the file first,"

He slowly reached out for the file and opened it, stolidly reading every single slip, and when he was done, his eyes had already turned reddish, he could feel his heart pounding like never before under its ribcage, and with eminent courage, looked up at Zainab with a steady gaze. "How is that possible? I've been watching her diet, her medications at the proper time, she rarely stress herself, she even stopped schooling up until she gets better...Ali how's that possible," He raised the file up, shaking it vigorously as he spoke, but Ali was not able to give him a befitting reply.

"Dr M Ibrahim," She adjusted on her sit. "You know a cancer cell may produce hundreds and hundreds of copies of a particular gene, and that gene is capable of triggering an overproduction of protein, then it officially renders the anticancer drugs ineffective," with cautious step, she took the file from him, took out a specific slip and raised it to his view, showing him a cell chart. "In her bloodstream, some of the cells were not killed by the cytotoxins, they mutated and became resistant to the drug, her cells learnt how to successfully repair the DNA breaks caused by the cytotoxins and ultimately...,"

Muhammad cut in, leaving her sentence midway. "What are you implying Dr Zainab,"

She hummed. "I'm sorry, but this second session of intravenous treatment might be of no absolute use, it could only cause her unpredictable harm,"

Muhammad closed his eyes for a brief moment, using it to clear his mind. "Isn't there any possible way? You said oral treatment wouldn't work, and now this...," he yawed his gaze to Ali who looked even more disturbed. "Dr Ali, 60% chance of recovery you said? What's all this? I don't understand,"

"Please stay calm Dr Muhammad, we have...,"

"Don't tell me to stay calm Ali, you just told me about the failure of my wife's treatment and you expect me to stay calm?, now what should I do!," He murmured a silent tasbeh, wiped his face with both his hands and stayed in that position, feeling the worst type of helplessness shroud him.

"We're yet to know if...," At the clacking of the door, Dr Zainab stopped talking, moving her gaze to look at the person who stood by the door, and when Muhammad looked up too, his face hardened, all the emotions he's been controlling, finding their way back to distort his thoughts. 

And now as he stared at her. It was then he let himself see, the dark black cycles under her eyes, her weight loss, and the pale appearance of her skin. Why couldn't he notice earlier? Maybe twas' because he loved her genuinely, and decided to only love her and not see, ignoring anything else. 

She still had on the blue hospital gown, but had used her veil to cover herself properly. She did not talk to any of them, and by her actions, Muhammad could tell that she'd heard them. "Er-em, your phone, A..mmi had been calling and I thought maybe. It's. Important," She cleared her throat and pushed the phone to him, silently scolding herself not to cry. No. Not in front of them all. He collected the phone and in anticipation, she sauntered out without a word more.

The duo watched as Muhammad stood up too and followed behind her. "Ruwaida!," she quickened her pace, walking as fast as she could back to the Day care bed. She could here him thumping his feet on the marble flow as he waited for her to emerge from the changing room in which she'd locked herself after taking her clothes from the durj.

When she finally felt stronger and had stopped crying, she walked out the small compartment, took her bag and silently stood across Muhammad. "Are you okay?," He wasn't sure if the question was even meant for her or him. She nodded and hung her bag. He dragged her hand and made her sit on the bed and did the same. "What's wrong? Please don't hide anything from me, what happened? Did you speak to Ammi," She shook her head and knead her hands around herself, reassuring herself that what she heard was false. "Then talk to me,"

"It's...What did Dr Zainab say back there about my treatment? Canceled?," she looked straight at him, searching his eyes which seemed unpromising as he stared back. His phone beeped loudly and hastily to avoid her question, he reached for it, strained his eyes towards the images which were sent to him and in a swift, he stood up in angst.

"Warn your bi*** of a sister to stay away from my husband! This is the last warning! She should f****** backoff!"

He looked at the pictures one more time, and Ruwaida saw his face whiten, saw him thrash the phone in his pocket before taking her hand in his and pulling her out of the ward, down the stares to the parking lot. She couldn't tell what was happening. Nevertheless, she entered the car and he drove off, still saying nothing to her. And she couldn't ask what was wrong. She couldn't.

     He'd never looked that angry...

Get ready for what's coming 💀

Love_
SilentWriter 🦋