RUWAIDA ✔️

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

"What are you doing?," Ruwaida placed down the swerving spoon and glanced at the door. As Muhammad walked in, his face became clearer, leaving the blinding lights behind him. He looked up at her with a genuine smile and it left Ruwaida wondering what luck he brought with him, and why he'd want to come and amble in her world, her already gloomy world.

Somewhere in her head, she imagined telling him the storm his soul had driven out of her, and his kind words that shook her worries and made them seem like mere illusions and at times, forgetting the tumor that torments her. How she wish she were brave enough to open her heart to him.

"Are you cooking? When I've clearly told you not to?," He had an unfriendly gaze as he looked up, pointing towards the pot which was on fire and a tray halfway filled with chopped onions and a few green vegetables. He wasn't been too persistent that time, he just did not want to have her crying and wiggling like she would loose her mind when her body starts to convulse.

What happened some days back...he did not look forward to have experience it again. Ever! Seeing her weak and vulnerable, clutching on his shirt as if that could take away her pain...he never wish to insight into such again.

Ruwaida's mouth twitched ceaselessly,biting her lower lip as she stared back. It was her fault since she'd not informed him of her plans earlier. And what if he does not agree? "Er...I'm sorry. Zubaida got sick so she couldn't make it today, and I had invited Zarah over, she said she's coming with a friend so I thought it would only be nice if I cooked something. I'm sorry for not listening to you..I'll just put this and...," She  reached for the tray of onions and began transferring them into the pot. Muhammad collected the tray and placed it back on the counter.

"You're still cooking? It's like you're not gonna listen," one moment she was standing and the next she felt herself being raised as if she weighed no grams. That was all. It was like that Muhammad conveyed her to her room, unto her berth, raised up the duvet and covered her legs. As if he knew she'd need that rest so badly.

She looked up at him as he gathered the end of the quilt without a flicker. "You should get some rest, I'll check the food for you, don't worry,"  He said and sat on the bed.

"You can cook?," she sounded unsure and amused too.

Muhammad gave out a harmless laughter and Ruwaida thought his voice fell in a rhythmical, surreal and dream like trait, with a vocal wizardry that wheeled her into a calming jiff for the few seconds it had lasted. "Haven't I mentioned that?," she shook her head to indicate a no' and his shoulders sagged playfully. "Then remind me to tell you all about my college days," he laughed again as he recalled something, then quickly made to stand up. "Lemme check on that rice,"

"Ya Turaad," Muhammad stopped and looked at her, and she smiled, a shaky smile before she continued. "It would take a few more minutes before it cooks well, can we er- talk?," Turaad was quick to sit back as he glanced at her unsophisticated eyes. 

Ya Rabb, even he knew how much he'd changed because of her. She hadn't really done much but her deep affection only grows deeper every second more he lives with her and with all sincerity, he was scared. He was more scared of how he would become without her than the fact that there was literally no way out of her leukemia at that stage.

She rested her back over the headboard and took his hand, clasping both her hands around his. "Abdul told me everything over the phone yesterday," she smiled and looked at their hands, he could see she was trying to hide her tears. It was because of that very reason he refused to tell her he'd changed her brother's school and that he gave him a bike. She'd start thanking him when it was after all his responsibility. Abdul was now his brother. "It made me so happy...thank you so...,"

He cut through her sentence. "Shush! I thought we've dealt with that formality already?...you know, Abdul is my brother too!," He gave her hand a light clutch. And he watched as she gave him does eyes...the look, he couldn't really tell but her eyes, there was something unusual in them...it glittered too prettily with a light of its own.

He'd noticed only recently because since after the clash, she refuses to look him straight in the eyes on grounds of shyness, and when he recalls, it still felt like a fantasy borne out of the will that it did happen. "Yes you did," She moved forward and hugged him out of the blue, feeling an irksome crimson redden her cheeks. "But allow me to say my immense gratitude...at least," she whispered.

"Agreed and granted," He replied and laughed.

Well, then came a story of a burnt rice. They laughed it off at first and began to worry when Zarah called and informed Ruwaida of her arrival in a few minutes. Muhammad had a great idea, and his great idea was for them to order the food. His idea worked tho, the foods arrived earlier than expected. Saving Ruwaida the stress, or better off, Muhammad from showing his fake skills at cooking.

"Welcome," By the time the two had arrived, Muhammad had dressed and left for the Masjid. "Why are you still standing like strangers, please come in," Ruwaida slightly moved from the door.

Zarah and Faixa walked in. Zarah placed a basket of fruits on the island before making a beeline into the living room, exchanging the usual greetings.

They finally settled in the cozy living room while Ruwaida set a tray of assortments before them on the glass center table.

"FJ so I've been speaking about my sister in law to you all the time...you finally meet her,"

"Indeed, just as beautiful as you've shown me on your phone. Hello Ruwaida I'm Faiza," A little sheepishly, Ruwaida returned her smile with the same emery. She did not actually do well with such type of compliments.

It was another half hour of Zarah endlessly praising herself for being the sole escapade which brought the couple together, suddenly the tables turned and they began asking her how she'd met Abdullah. She cringed. Not something she was actually looking forward to share.

"Why are you suddenly apprehensive hey? Look who was calling someone super shy," Faixa laughed nudging Zarah by her arm.

Ruwaida looked curiously, also wanting to here about the story which seemed quite interesting. She had the small green throw pillow in between her arms and legs smiling broadly at Zarah.

"Uhm what exactly do you want to here?," Her voice came out low.

"Where you guys met...I actually know he's Dr M's best friend and colleague too but like how did you guys start talking?," there was a teasing smile across Faixa's face.

"Okay," Zarah said sulkily, after a moment. "I kinda texted him...anonymously," she was hesitant and she looked up at their shocked faces. "What? Is that wrong?,"

Ruwaida cleared her throat. "You're joking," she seemed not to have believed her.

Zarah grinned. "Oh hell I'm not!," Ruwaida raised her brows then nodded, a little thunder stricken by Zarah's smooth dealing of the hot sit talk.

"Ookaay...then what happened next?,"

"Then we started texting frequently. Eventually... he asked if we could meet and you can't imagine his expression when he found out it was me. The little girl he always saw as a baby; his best friend's baby sister...," The whole room shook as they hooted in a series of titters. The way she sounded unimaginably disappointed while saying the last words kicked them the most.

"Oh my Allah!," Faixa slapped her hand jokingly. "And now look at you...ready to get married," She laughed again as Zarah looked down at her well kept nails. "But Zarah...," Zarah looked up hastily, hearing the hesitation in Faiza's voice. "Are you okay with the fact that he's married?,"

Ruwaida also wanted to hear the answer to that question and she slightly moved in her sit.

"Look...FJ I knew he was married even before we started this relationship. I actually don't have a problem with that," she shrugged to portray her nonchalantness. She loved Abdullah too much to care.

And Ruwaida mused at the idea. Could she ever consent Muhammad to remarry? The concept alone made her cower, and when he salaamed while walking into the room, her heart became even more strongly willed...She prayed for a longer life, just to be with that humble man, her humble man.

Love_
SilentWriter 🦋