Nawal's head was spinning. The cool bathroom tiles sent chills up her spine. She was dizzy and her eyesight was blurry. Seema was calling out to her but she had no energy to respond. She couldn't decipher the words said to her. All she heard was her name.

This morning like any other morning since last week, she woke up with a severe bout of nausea and before she could fully wake up, she had rushed to the toilet. But today, she didn't have strength to stride instead on wobbly legs she walked to the bathroom. She had collapsed on the bathroom floor when she vomited in the toilet seat. Knowing about Nawal's nausea attack, Seema had brought a glass of fresh orange juice to ease her but when she saw Nawal slumped on the bathroom floor she panicked.

Grabbing Nawal's arm, Seema tugged her, "C'mon Chanda, you have to gather your strength to stand up."

Nawal wasn't able to react. Emptying the contents of her stomach left her light headed and exhausted. She closed her eyes regardless of Seema's pleading for her to climb to her feet. That is when she felt being lifted and carried. The familiar male cologne hit her, she frowned when she recognized it. How was it possible she could sense him? Her limp head rested against his chest. She blinked and when her eyelids rose, she realized she was dreaming. No way would Salman carry her.

But he did, after hearing his mother's frantic voice he had rushed to find Nawal on the bathroom floor and Seema's futile effort to move her. Without a moment's hesitation, with his arm under her knees and the other around her back, he carried her to the bed where he gently laid her down.

He stepped back, letting Seema sit on the bed beside her. After helping Nawal sit up with her back resting against the pillows, Seema immediately extended the orange juice glass to Nawal, "C'mon Nawal no more excuses have this orange juice so that your nausea gets better and then I will get you breakfast so you have strength."

Unabashed, Nawal eyes never left Salman as she took small sips of the juice. He was standing with his arms folded in front of him and quietly noting her condition. Her eyes beseeched even though her lips remained sealed. But he never met her eyes. Instead his eyes were fixed on the glass in her cold trembling hands.

Salman had no clue about babies and far less about pregnant women. Shouldn't pregnant woman gain weight? Then why Nawal seemed to have lost weight. Her collarbone was more prominent now and her hands were much slimmer, the bangle he gifted her was loosely dangling on her wrist. Her stomach was completely flat. Was that normal?

They didn't notice when Seema left the room. Both acknowledging the other but hesitant to speak. She was afraid if she said something he would storm out like the last time. And he didn't know what to say or even understand why he was in the room in the first place.

Her heart cried, Looking at you my heart weeps. You are so near yet so far.

In the eerie silence, Nawal drank. With each sip, the nausea spell eased and her tensed shoulders relaxed against the pillows. When she drank half of the contents of the glass, she sighed in content. Observing that her condition was better, Salman stepped back and for a fleeting second their eyes met. That one glance was enough to pour out the raw emotions.

His anguish.

Her pain.

He was quick to avert his gaze and then without a backward glance, Salman walked out of the room. Her eyes trailed behind him as a tear trickled down.

Come back, her heart voiced and pleaded, Please.

But he never did.

****

Two hours after arriving at work, Salman couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't able to concentrate in the meeting he just adjourned. Rather his mind kept wandering back to her. His head resting on the back of the black leather swivel chair, his fidgety fingers tapping on the wooden desk as his troubled thoughts were beyond his control. Indecisively, he grabbed his phone and clicked on a number. Before he could cut the call, he heard his mother's voice from the other end.

"Haa Salman." She answered.

"Ammi, what are you doing?"

"Me?" surprised Seema blinked and looked at the caller id. It was her son calling alright but why was he asking what she was up to. He never called from work for a casual talk. "Cooking, why?"

He closed his eyes, "Everything okay at home?" he just couldn't make himself ask about her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Yeah why?"

"Nothing" he muttered, embarrassed, he breathlessly said, "Umm.. I better go. I have another meeting in a few minutes."

That's when it clicked Seema what her son was asking of her. Belatedly, she said before he ended the call, "Nawal is better now. After breakfast, she is been resting."

Was she still sick?

His doubts and worries remained with him. He didn't express anything and instead said, "Okay. I better go Ammi."

But Seema knew her son well, "Don't worry I am taking care of her."

He couldn't hide his feelings from her. Uncomfortable, he ended the call.

He wasn't going to analyse his feelings. Instead, he made sure he didn't think of her the rest of the day. The best way to keep his mind off her was bury himself in work again.

His strategy only lasted until he was at work. His thoughts were muddled as he drove on the rainy evening. He halted the car at the traffic light and again he reasoned that he was only taking care of her because she was still under his name until the iddah completes (waiting period). But the question was would he be able to bid her farewell when the time comes? What about the baby? He was utterly lost. Tapping his fingers to the music that was on the evening show of RTE Radio 2, his gaze flickered at the Centra small grocery outlet. Without another minute thought, he decided he will worry of the future later. Right now he was to focus on the present. He parked the car in front of the grocery, emerging out of the car, standing in the rain, his heart eased for the first time in a month.

****

"It was better if you would have rested Nawal," Seema chided lightly as she tasted the curry from the stainless steel pot with a teaspoon.

Nawal was chopping vegetables for the salad, "Nahi Khala I like to help you around in the kitchen."

"I don't mean the kitchen work. I meant your decision to resuming your classes from tomorrow." Seema scrunched her nose after the taste of the curry, then grabbed the salt container and sprinkled some.

"I have already missed so many of the classes in the last month. There is no point of missing more. I can't sit at home and fret what will happen." Nawal shrugged and looked up from the chopping board, "Besides education is important."

The real reason she was ready to go back to studies was that she was ready to move on. Staying indoors and worrying over this divorce issue was not going to miraculously change the circumstances of her life. She was now ready to pick up the broken pieces of her life and go on.

"Just don't exert yourself much. You need your rest as well," Seema reminded and then offered the spoonful of curry to her, "Try this, I feel something is missing."

Nawal's leered at the teaspoon full of curry, her lips curled distastefully and her stomach twisted again involuntarily, "No Khala just the smell of chicken is making my stomach churn. I think I will be happy with dhal (lentil curry) and chawwal (rice)."

Seema's eyes brightened, "I have a feeling it's going to be a girl. We will be blessed with a little princess."

Nawal's hand stilled on the knife she was using to chop the lettuce. A girl? If that was so, she prayed that her little girl has a serendipitous destiny unlike her mother's. However, the baby's destiny was already penned by the Creator, a life full of struggles where her loved ones would turn away from her.

Working in silence, both women relentlessly prepared the dinner, the deep husky voice startled them in their chores,

"Assalam u alaikum," announced Salman entering in the kitchen. He froze looking at Nawal. Heart slamming hard in his chest. His eyes roving over her to find any signs of sickness. It was a good indication that she was on her feet and in the kitchen. Just the sight of her, tranquilized his worries that had harboured within him all day. Nawal's eyes raised from the chopping board, Salman hastily looked away and placed the shopping bags on the kitchen counter, "Ammi I got some groceries."

Seema covered the lid of the pot and switched off the stove, "Great. Why don't you go and change. We will set up the dinner table."

Without any further interaction, Salman left, leaving behind a dazed Nawal. How long will they go on like this? They had become two strangers. It was a bleak situation with no solution foresighted.

It was many minutes later, after tossing the salad Nawal opened the shopping bags to put the grocery contents in their designated places. He brought the norm groceries always required at home – milk, eggs and bread. However, she came to a standstill as she peeked inside the second shopping bag. Inside were three large bottles of orange juice.

Her heart beat leaped, does he still care?

****

In the grey rainy day, Nawal scurried to her class through the sheer size of UCD campus. The nausea wasn't bad today. She had selected afternoon classes for this last semester. So that she can sleep late through morning and then easily reach to her classes on time. Huffing and puffing, she reached her classroom. Scanning for Lisa and Aoife, her face broke into a smile seeing her friends after a long time.

Thankfully, there was a free chair beside them. Breathlessly, she slumped on the chair and grinned at them.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Aoife scorned.

Lisa's eyes widened, "Nawal? Where were you?"

"Here" her lips curled up in appreciation, knowing her friends missed her.

Lisa narrowed her eyes, "You look pale. What happened?"

Before she could think, Nawal blurted it out, "I am pregnant."

This time both of her friends screeched, well good thing the professor wasn't here yet. Nawal waved her hand down in a gesture for them to lower their voices.

"So that's what kept you busy huh? Baby Nawal on the way. Aww I can't wait," gushed Lisa.

"Baby. Wow." Aoife exclaimed.

This was the first time since she found out she was pregnant, she was genuinely happy. Her friends' joy was contagious. Before she could chat more, the professor sauntered in the classroom. It was time to head for the books.

Once the class was over after an hour, Lisa suggested enthusiastically, "Let's celebrate. We will take you out for lunch. What do you say?"

Biting her lower lip, Nawal glanced at her glimmering watch and frowned, "I can't. I have to go home. I am tired."

Understanding, Aoife nodded and said, "Ya ok we won't force you. But whenever you feel like it, let's have a girls' day out."

Darkness covered Nawal's face, remembering the last girl's day out. It was a disaster. A nightmare that led to this day.

"We shall see," were Nawal's departing words.

As long as she remembered, Nawal never prayed salah when she was out and about. In fact, she would miss the prayers as there were lack of mosques in Dublin. But that was no excuse, she belatedly realized. It was time to rectify this. For the first time, she joined her university, she walked to the prayer room. A small designated room built especially for Muslim students to pray.

How will Allah listen to her if she didn't remember Him?

[Quran 2:152].

As she stepped in the prayer room, she vowed, she'd become steadfast in her prayers from now on whether she is indoors or outdoors, salah came first and most of all on time.

****

There was a disturbing sense irking Nawal since the day she joined university. Dressed casually in her jeans, top, jacket and a hijab, she felt naked in the eyes of the men she encountered. Whether she was walking on the street to get the bus or while pursuing her class at the university campus. The self-confidence she once had about her looks was shattered. In its place was uneasiness and self-consciousness. She was aware of the men eyes on her. Even though, they never especially stared at her but she felt them. Call it paranoia, but Nawal was very uncomfortable now about dressing up in the way she always did.

Perhaps, it was because how Daud eyed her and then took advantage of her. The moments in her life that she had presumed to be blissful had turned to tormenting. She cursed the day she laid her eyes on him. It was true, he was a heartless man. Her trust had shattered from men. At times, she was jittery on the bus when there were more men than women or in the classroom when most of the students were men.

This is why, she decided to visit a special shop. One that would perhaps help her ease this discomfort. Entering the Indian boutique, Nawal smiled politely as the Indian Hyderabadi lady, "I am looking for an abaya."

The sales woman smiled back, "Sure, right this way," she beckoned her towards the abaya rack.

After many minutes, looking at all the abayas, she couldn't decide. In fact, she didn't like any of them. That's when her eyes laid on a navy blue abaya that Salman had suggested all those months ago. It was a simple abaya with black lace on the sleeves and in a dress shape cut. A small smile lingered on her lips.

"Can I try that one?" she pointed at it.

Standing in front of the mirror, enveloped in navy blue material, she felt beautiful. Not because she was exposing her physical beauty outwardly but because she was covering it from those who were forbidden to see it.

Mesmerized by her appearance, Nawal said with determination, "I will take it."

****

That evening, when she was walking to her house from the bus stop, she marched with confidence. The confidence that she had lost because of the traumatic events of her life was slowly coming back. With every step she took closer to her Creator, she found herself like never before. Her firm belief strengthened. Indeed for the believer Allah is sufficient.

She entered the living room of the house after a tiring day, Salman was talking to Muhammad.

"Assalam u alaikum" she spoke loud and clear unlike meekly she had been speaking in the past month.

Nonchalantly Salman glanced at her and his eyes arrested at her appearance. It was how he had desired to see her for so long.

Ignoring his father, he cautiously took steps towards at her. Their eyes communicating silently. There was no need for words. In this distant relationship that had developed over the weeks, they had learned to communicate in a unique manner.

Her breath hitched. She waited in anticipation as he closed the distance between them.

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