It wasn't meant to be ✔️

Chapter 29

-7 months later-

I walked into my block of flats. Not the one that he had purchased for me. I had purchased and moved into another flat after a mere 3 weeks of living in that one.

First of all, that flat reminded me of him. He would haunt me as if he was still alive. I felt suffocated. I would hear his voice, his footsteps, everything. It was as if he was alive, living there alongside me, reminding me that I would never escape from his clutches.

Secondly, the area was full of rich, posh people. I felt out of place. they would often turn their noses when they'd see me. So I had to leave. What was the point of torturing myself?

I found this flat, it was perfect. It may be in a somewhat dodgy part of Karachi. But it was perfect, it was small, but had enough room for my child. It was simple, but just enough for me. The best thing about it was the fact that it was closer to my father's house and grave.

2 months after we reconciled, my father passed. I'm officially an orphan now. Both my parents have returned back to their Lord. Hopefully, I'll be reunited with them one day In Sha Allah.

He spent 2 weeks in hospital before he died. I spent every minute possible next to him or near him. I tied contacting my siblings but I couldn't reach any of them, so he died without meeting his children.

Waliya Aunty would get annoyed at me for not taking care of myself, especially in my state and would force me to go home. But how could I? When I had already neglected my father so much? It killed me to see him in this condition and yet again, I was helpless. I couldn't help him in any way. Waliya's son from her previous marriage would often come by and it seemed that my dad had a strong bond. It was beautiful to see really. From joking around together and teasing each other, they would get into heated debates about politics and whatnot. He didn't have a bond like this with Usmaan, but then none of us had a bond with Usmaan nor did we have a strong bond like these two.

Before he took his last breath, he said to me "When I go to Allah, I'm going to ask him to shower my daughter with happiness in this life and the next, because she deserves it." He smiled and said: "Always have sabr, like this your whole life and you will be fine. Allah will make everything fall into place like he did now." His grip on my hand tightened as he read his Shahada and when he finished his hand went limp.

He was gone.

He had gone back to his Creator happily and that made me happy, that he died a peaceful death.

After he died Waliya Aunty slipped into deep depression, and nothing we did helped her. So, I suggested to her son to take her out of the country for a while. He was eager as he had been offered a job overseas which he wasn't going to take because of Abbu's death. We both suggested the idea to Aunty but she refused but after a bit persuading and prodding, she went along with the idea.

They've been abroad for 4 months. She rings me everyday to ask about my health and to tell me about her adventures there. She really loves it in Malaysia. They may have to move again and she wouldn't mind. It really made my heart feel at peace knowing she is truly happy.

Every Friday, I make sure to visit my dad's grave straight after Jummah. I made a promise and I would stick to it.

During one of these visits, a grave stone caught my eye. It had had the name but it was covered by a plant: Kan-.

I went forward and there was written: Kaneez Illyas wife of Illyas Ali. Buried with her unborn child.

And from that day I made sure to visit both graves and pray for them and their hereafter.

Over these last 7 months a lot has changed. Not just my dad not being here. But other things as well. Such as I now own a clothing brand that makes clothes for pregnant women. I thought of the idea when my baby bump started growing. I wanted to wear some comfy Pakistani clothes but they were all tight for me, so I learnt how to sew from my next door neighbour, Aunty Nosheen, who was delighted when I told my plans and even gifted me her sewing machine, which I cherish with my heart, because that helped me a lot.

I launched it online from home and it gained attention quickly, which meant to I had to expand and quickly before it lost all the attention. I've successfully opened two stores in Karachi, am in the process of opening one in Lahore and looking into launching one in Islamabad. I just pray Allah is on my side.

Also over the course of these past months, I found my path again. I rediscovered Islam. I returned back to Allah. My father and Waliya helped me immensely through the process and I couldn't be more thankful. I returned to reading 5 times a day. I returned to reading the Qur'an. I returned to being the Allah fearing woman I once was. And I felt peace. Complete peace.

I didn't go back to wearing my hijab. I struggled with it when I tried, however I am trying to fix my relationship with my Hijab.

I had cut my hair and wore contacts. I would do my make up differently, so no one would recognise me. I only photos of me when it was my wedding with him and I had heavy makeup but I still didn't want to risk it.

And that's how I've been living my life, peacefully and contently.

I finally got to my floor and made my way to my apartment, but an intrusion made its presence block my way. I look and see about 10 men holding massive guns near my apartment. One of them catches my eye, the one that doesn't have his face covering on currently. He nods his head slightly and I return the greeting.

And suddenly his then stoic, expressionless face breaks into a huge smile. I was weirded out and took a step towards my apartment, but not before seeing him being nudged and his expressionless face is back, and he quickly puts on his face covering, in a rush.

I head to my apartment, I go to put in the key only to realise that the door's been forced open. I slowly open the door and there he's sat.

My worst nightmare.

With a smirk on his face and a gun in his hand.

******

I think its pretty obvious to who it is, but tell me who is it?

I guess Ayla's peaceful life is going to take a twist.