Accepted With Flaws

-Whispers of Comfort -

The Messenger of Allah (S) has said, "There is no foundation that has been built in Islam more loved by Allah, (The Greatest and Noblest) than marriage."

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Omaiza's PoV

Luth's arms enveloped me, and instantly, my heart quickened its pace. A surge of unease swept over me, leaving my stomach churning like a stormy sea. My heart raced, beads of sweat forming on my skin, and the room began to spin. Gasping for air, I clung to Lut, burying my face in the fabric of his shirt. Amid the chaos, one thing cut through—the sweet scent of his Bvlgari Aqua cologne.

Darkness shrouded everything, a thick fog that rendered the world a blurry abyss. The air itself felt heavy, smothering, and as I attempted to move, I collided with an unseen obstacle, crashing to the floor. Figures materialized from the shadows, restraining me with an iron grip. Panic surged within me, and I struggled against their hold, each attempt met with stronger resistance.

But then, a soothing calmness washed over me like the first breeze of winter. A presence, bright and warm, beckoned me forward. With determination, I reached out, grasping the outstretched hand. Blinding light enveloped me, making it impossible to distinguish the figure's features. Yet, the embrace of the light felt like a lifeline, a sanctuary that I clung to with all my might.

Tears flowed freely, not tears of sorrow, but tears of fear—fear of being abandoned once more to the cruelty of this world. "Please, don't let go. I need you," I pleaded, my grip unyielding. The thought of returning to the torment I'd escaped was unbearable.

"Zawj, it's alright," came the reassurance, accompanied by soothing circles traced on my back. "In sha Allah, I'll always be here for you." The source of comfort revealed itself to be Luth, his heartbeat syncing with mine as we held each other.

As the tranquility spread within me, I gradually released my grip. In the dimness of the room, only Luth and I remained, his touch both gentle and reassuring. He brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across my eyes, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

"Zawj, I didn't anticipate that lifting you could trigger such traumatic memories and lead to a panic attack," Luth's voice held genuine concern, his eyes locked onto mine. Averting my gaze, I found solace in staring at his shirt, my tears threatening to resurface.

"I'm sorry," my voice wavered, the urge to escape once again gnawing at me.

Luth lifted my chin, his gaze unwavering. "Zawj, have faith in Allah's timing. Things will get better." His fingers intertwined with mine, his thumb tracing comforting patterns.

We lingered in this silent embrace until Luth's mother entered, bearing a tray of tea and a bowl of steaming mushroom soup. "Get well soon, Baccha," her words carried warmth as she settled beside me. Her presence exuded comfort, and a sense of security settled over me.

"I think it's time for some mother-daughter bonding, Lut," she playfully winked at me, prompting Luth to leave us alone.

"My dear, I know you've faced hardships. Marriage may seem complex, but the bond of nikkah is a true marvel. It weaves love between two souls, even when they start as strangers. Trust in Allah's timing; He is the ultimate planner." Her hand enveloped mine, and she drew me into an embrace that spoke volumes.

Holding her tightly, I admitted softly, "I need time to adjust to all these changes."

"Take all the time you need, dear."

As she departed, she offered a final piece of advice, "Savor the soup while it's still warm; it will help soothe you." Her smile radiated kindness as she left, and I couldn't help but reflect on her words.

In the quiet aftermath of our conversation, I found myself yearning for the presence of my ammi, wishing she were here to offer her wisdom and comfort.

The door creaked open, and Luth returned, a warm smile on his face. He sat beside me, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the uncertainty. "How are you feeling now?" he asked, his concern genuine.

"Better Alhamdullilah ," I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Your mother, she's quite something."

Luth chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "That she is. She has a way of making people feel at ease."

We sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders bit by bit. The aroma of mushroom soup filled the room, and I picked up the spoon, taking a hesitant sip. The warmth spread through me, easing both my body and soul.

"You know," Luth began, "my mother has been through her share of challenges. She's faced hardships with grace and strength. I've always admired her for that."

I nodded, understanding in his words. "I can see why. She radiates a kind of warmth that's hard to find."

Luth's gaze softened as he looked at me. "You're part of our family now, Zawj. And just like she said, trust in Allah's timing. We're here for you, every step of the way."

Tears welled up again, but this time, they were different. They held a glimmer of hope, a promise of a new beginning. With Luth by my side and his mother's wisdom in my heart, I felt a renewed strength. As I continued sipping the soup, I knew that I was embarking on a journey—one that held challenges, but also the potential for boundless love and growth.