Fahad was dumbfounded, she has a daughter! Or was it had she said?  But she said she couldn’t have children, his head was starting to hurt with all the thoughts running through it.

He had to count to five to get his mouth to coordinate and form a coherent sentence.

“Your daughter?” he croaked out.

She nodded wiping her tears, seeing how she wasn’t stopping, he pulled out the hanky he had in his pocket that he kept it in case Layla decided to talk because he knew there would be tears, he just didn't expect it from a different person.

“Our EDD would’ve been the same but she was born premature,” she let out a small whimper, “I’d only seen her for about an hour before she passed.”

He took a deep breath, not very surprised to see she was just staring at nothing in particular.

“Khadijah,” he started but she stopped him.

“I thought I was getting a second chance when ya Sadiya had given birth to a girl and now she’s gone too.” She cried, with every sob that left her mouth he felt like a part of him was being removed, painfully slow.

He remembered what he heard his mother saying to Jawad’s mother, he didn’t know if it’ll help but that’s all he could say, that was the only way to console her.

“You know with every hardship comes ease,” he stopped felling a lump rise in his throat, he cleared his throat and tried again, when he still couldn’t make up any words he gave up and instead watched her as she tried to catch her breath, her body wracking with each agonizing cry that left her lips.

It took almost half an hour for her to calm down and when she looked at him, the pain in her eyes was so raw it broke his heart, it took everything in him to fight the urge to at least squeeze her hand, anything to relieve her of her pain, even if just for that moment.

Her eyes! It all made sense, she always had a longing in her eyes, her eyes were always clouded, he realized then that she was trying to hide the pain, why show it when there was nothing she could do?

If Basra was three then it meant it happened about four years ago, it made him wonder when she got divorced and who the husband was, he made a mental note to have a check in with Salis, for his peace of mind at least.

“I didn’t even get to hold her,” she managed through her tears a few seconds later.

Fahad didn’t say anything after that and he hated himself for that, but what could he tell her to make her feel better? Absolutely nothing came to his mind, she didn’t look like she wanted to be consoled.

He knew that because there was a type pain that you just want to be left to your thoughts, you don’t want anyone to tell you it’s going to be alright, you know even though it doesn't feel like it at the time but you know deep down that it’s going to be fine, you’ll be alright even if not whole, but the truth was, you don’t want to be whole again, you don’t want to be better, maybe it was guilt, maybe not, he didn’t know but he understood that, and the fact that he couldn’t help added to his self loathe.

“I heard this hadtih once,” he started, the words were leaving his mouth without his permission but he found it was the right thing, it’s just the thing he needed to say, she might not acknowledge it now, she might hate him for cutting her mourning but when it does register in her mind, she’ll be glad she heard it, or at least he hoped.

“The daughter of the prophet Muhammad S.A.W sent for him when her child died and he said “It is His what he has taken, and it is His what he has given, and everything in His possession has a prescribed lifetime, so let her be patient and content (with Allah’s will and reward)” she didn’t indicate that she heard him but she’d stopped sobbing.

It sounded so familiar and he wondered where he’d heard it from, then he remembered he heard his mother saying to Jawad’s mother, he didn’t know if it’ll help but that’s all he could say, that was the only way to console her.

He stayed with her until her cries subsided and later she stopped, only hiccupping once in a while. She used the hanky that was crumpled to wipe the remainder of her tears.

“Jazakallahu Khair,” she whispered her voice hoarse, she wanted to say more, she had a lot to say but those were the only words that left her mouth.

“Wa fa’anti jazakimullahu khair,” he replied softly, he searched her face for any sign of, a relapse? He didn’t know what to call it but she looked alright, not exactly fine but alright.

“Is everything okay out here?” Layla asked, they didn’t hear her coming.

“Yes,” he replied for them and noticed Khadijah’s grateful nod.

“Oh, you’ve been gone quite a while, ya Sadiya is awake and she was asking of you, anyways umma is here and they want her to bath,” she looked quizzically between them but didn’t make a comment.

“We’ll be there in a bit.” She nodded and turned but not before giving him a look that said they’ll have a talk later.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” he asked after Layla was out of earshot.

“Yes,” she croaked out.

“If you ever feel like talking, you can call me you know, I won’t interrupt I promise.” He said to lighten the mood, it worked because she let out a small chuckle, but he was serious and she knew it.

They lingered for a few more minutes, she rinsed her face before they went back to the house with a hose and he joked about holding it above her head so she would feel like it was raining personally for her. The small chuckle she’d let out was what made it worth it for him.

“Where’s Farhan?” he asked Layla who was seated with Aifa reclining in her lap.

“They went to get some things with Kamla.” He nodded and sat beside junior who was playing a video game with his tablet, though his face looked anything but cheerful.

“Junior?” he looked up at his aunt.

“Can you come and help me with something in the kitchen?” he shrugged and stood up following her wordlessly, so unlike him.

Like every eight year old, he was very curious and asked a lot of questions, he would’ve asked a hundred and one questions before they got to the kitchen so his silence was unusual and it worried her, the main reason for calling him.

“Are you hungry?” he shook his head after he sat on the counter. “Do you want chocolate chip cookies, we’ll not tell mummy.” He shrugged again. Khadijah sagged against the sink and settled her gaze on him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,”

“It’s nothing.”

“Try again.” His lips wobbled and his eyes filled instantly with tears.

“Basra isn’t coming back,” he whispered.

“Okay, what’s wrong then?”

“I miss her,” she walked up to him and pulled him to her body.

“We all do, but do you know something?” he shook his head no against her, “We’ll see her again insha Allah, and the best part, we’ll be together forever then insha Allah.”

“But I still miss her.” He insisted.

“I know, pray for her, pray to meet her again whenever you miss her okay, she loves you a lot,” He nodded whimpering. “Tell me, what would you have told her if she was here?” His eyes lit up with that and he wiped his tears.

“That I miss her and I love her and I’m sorry I didn’t let her play with my PS when she wanted to even though I know she can’t play, I’ll let her play,” he was smiling widely now, Khadijah had to wipe her eyes at his innocence, “And also I’ll bring over that candy she likes from my school.” He laughed at the end then started telling her the story of how she liked the candy since she took it once when they went with her to pick them up, of course she’d heard the tale from all three of them when it happened, even little Basra had tried to input, she was two then and was only laughing and speaking gibberish but she was happy and she felt among.

“Don’t cry aunty Dee, daddy said she’s in heaven and she’ll get all the candy she wants.” He tried to wipe her tears, assuring her while nodding his head. He wrapped his arms around her and tapped her back, the action made her cry and laugh at the same time.

“Thank you, you know you’re my baba right.” He nodded with a wide smile.

“Now about the cookies, will you help me bake them?” He nodded enthusiastically.

“And we’ll give it to the neighbors too and the small kids that are on the road right, they’ll pray for us to meet Basra, that’s what grandpa said.” She nodded and they set out to bake, he kept her company while she worked, telling her funny stories she’s heard more times than she cared to count but she didn’t mind, and by the time the last batch of the cookies were done, he was too full to eat any and Hanan who had joined them when the first batch was put in the oven laughed at her brother who she said would have a stomachache from eating too much sugar, they had enough to give the neighbors like he wanted, with a promise to make something for the children outside their school like he calls them, they gave the gateman to deliver after wrapping them in foil paper, all the while they didn’t notice Abdulrahman who’d stayed when he heard them talking, with a content hearth he went back to the living room where everyone else was waiting.

They may never get Basra back, but they had each other and even though it won’t be the same and they may find themselves craving her presence, they were enough for each other and Allah is sufficient for them all, he thanked Allah the exalted for giving them everything they needed, everything they wanted, they were a lot of people who had everything but didn’t have peace of mind, some who have nothing and others who have everything but they weren’t healthy, so Alhamdulillah for Allah’s mercies on him and his family, each and every one of them and his Basra, she was in the best place she could be, only by His grace.

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Assalamu alaikum, how are we? All fine insha Allah.

Isn't Khadijah just a super woman, tell me what you think.

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Amyrah