A Muslim's Romantic Journey

Chapter 48.

Safia’s POV

I had turned 21 a month ago which made me an official adult. I was an adult before but if there was any doubt then, there was none now. I could now legally buy alcohol without parents’ permission in certain US states which had those laws, not that I would fly out to those states and buy alcohol. No way, haram! But that just emphasized my adulthood. Yet, like any adult should be able to, I wasn’t very good at handling this situation.

Mrs Faber lost all feeling in her left arm and left leg. Right now, she couldn’t speak properly either. She had something called dysarthria which made it difficult for her to form words. I was by Mrs Faber’s bed while she mumbled something inaudible.

“What’s that ma?” Amy asked leaning towards her. Somehow, Amy was able to make out what Mrs Faber was saying. I, on the other hand, wanted to run away. It was irrational but I was scared. I didn’t know what I was scared of, but I was scared.

Maybe it was because I feared for Mrs Faber’s health. Or maybe I was scared for Amy having to take such a huge responsibility of taking care of her half paralysed mother. Or it could have been that I was scared to see how someone I knew as so healthy before was now so sick. Or maybe it was that fear that no one wanted to admit because it was considered immoral. I was scared of how Mrs Faber was quietly slurring as she spoke.

I mentally slapped myself a hundred times. How could I be so horrible? What if that was me lying there like that and someone thought that of me? I felt so guilty. There was Mrs Faber, suffering in such a horrific way and all I wanted to do was go back to the comfort of my home and close my eyes to her misery?

“Safia, can I speak with you for a second?” Amy asked. Feeling relieved to be able to walk away from that ward, I got up and followed Amy.

“Yes?” I asked when we reached the waiting room.

“You must be wondering how on earth I can communicate with mum so well when she can barely speak.”

“No, I know how close you two are. You can speak to each other with just your eyes.” Amy gave a weak smile. I could see how worn out she was. It was four days after the stroke and Amy refused to leave her mum and go home. She went home for half an hour or so everyday just to shower and get changed before she was back at hospital.

“Yesterday mum said it’s time to tell dad about Hamza. She said she’s afraid that…” Amy swallowed hard and looked down before continuing. “She says she might not survive.” She whispered. “I don’t believe her but she says she doesn’t want to leave me telling dad about Hamza on my own. So she wants to discuss this thing about Hamza with dad now because you’re here.”

“With me here? Why? What do I have to do this?” I didn’t want to intrude on their private family conversation.

“What do you have to do with this? I don’t know seeing that you’re the one who started all this.”

“Hey, you two fell for each other. I just pointed that out to you both, and everyone else.”

“Exactly, you pointed it out so this is all because of you. And Hamza’s your brother so you have to stay and tell dad how great Hamza is.” Amy was almost pleading so I couldn’t say no.

“Okay, let’s go and get it over and done with.”

“That’s the spirit.” She said sarcastically as we made our way back to the ward where her mother was.

I took a seat in the corner with Amy sitting on Mrs Faber’s bed and Mr Faber sitting on the chair opposite me.

“Dad, we have something to discuss with you.” Amy said and I felt some terrible nerves at the pit of my stomach. Mr Faber was so intimidating. “I want to get married.” Amy exclaimed boldly. “I’ve found someone and Ma approves.” Mr Faber stared at his daughter in shock. When he spoke up, I wanted to cry at his deep frightening voice.