BEING YOURS

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

***

He stared at her intently as she dabbed his swollen cheek with an ice pack, not even flickering his lashes.

"What did you do again? I'm pretty sure it wasn't this bad last night."

She just came home after two papers about an hour ago and arrived at Ali's room immediately only to see him more wounded than yesterday.

Salis? She should never have left him with Salis. That guy's a trained killer.

She'd come to check on him earlier that morning but Mr Goatee said he's still sleeping, not wanting to be pushy, she just left for school.

How can he make him puffier than he was? And leave him unattended.

He made him his meals and gave him his medication at least.

Yeah right. A beating for the care.

He'd given an excuse to go to Umar's when she asked what happened to her husband.

"Poor you, it's painful right?" She looked at him only to sink into his intense stare.

He didn't break it, not even after she caught him staring at her, tons of questions kept surging through his brain.

Will he make it? Can he ever be happy? Should he believe Salis and Umar? Will she stay? No, can he keep her? Love her? Can he ever forget everything and move on? Be happy? After everything he's done? After bringing sorrow upon a lot of people? Will she even be here after she finds out about him? All his past sins? Will she still look at him like she does? Like there's some sort of treasure within him? Like he's worth something? Worth her affection and care? Or maybe she'll just leave, forever.

But deep down, somewhere down there, something wants her to stay, to still stay with him, even after knowing the monster he's hidden from her, from the world.

But then he knows he can't give her happiness, he can't even promise her forever. He's terminated, he's just a walking dead who's fastly arriving his resting place. Just his won't be that but a torture chamber. He belongs in the pit of hell, after everything he's done, he knows the mercy of Ar-Rahman is far-off for him.

How then, will he give this girl Jannah? How then will she ever have peace with him? And she deserves it, to be happy, to live a peaceful life here and in the hereafter. But she can never have that with him, he can't give himself that not to talk of someone else.

"If you're to choose, between I and Jannah, what'd be your pick?" He asked, softly, their eyes still hooked.

"It's the same thing, you are my Jannah." She shrugged slightly.

He clenched his jaw and swallowed a rising lump, that wasn't his expected reply. He'd expected Jannah, and then he'll let her go, then and there, to find her Jannah.

He wants to be good, at least to her, at least to know he did something right in his three decades of life.

But her reply...

He blinked, once, kept his eyelashes together longer.

Her palm went to his jaw and cupped it. "It won't work, so don't even do it. No matter how much you send me away, push me away, I'll still be here, certainly, until you get better in shaa Allah. You can't force me to come back, you didn't either, so you can't force me to go away too."