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In the tranquillity of the hospital, they were completely alone after months of separation. Daud's eyes were learning how striking she looked in the new Islamic attire. Last time they met he was consumed with anger to fully appreciate its beauty. She was a new woman now. There was an aura of confidence in her that he had never seen before. Was it his imagination but the splendour of the black hijab emphasized her gorgeousness more than he remembered.

Susan's eyes followed at all the different plasters and bandages on his body. She wasn't ready to come today. Her heart had overruled her mind. The fact he had nearly escaped death and was immensely injured had led her to come here even though she was well aware it wasn't a good idea. In fact, it was a very bad idea.

Then she remembered Prophet (Peace be upon Him) saying. " ."

He wasn't just another Muslim but he was the father of her son. She couldn't believe what he went through. Her heart wasn't accepting but now as her eyes witnessed, she was colossally dejected. The flame of revenge that had been burning within him had finally consumed him entirely. Today, he lay as a man with no strength to harm others rather he was in need of others.

"I brought you pears," she whispered, taking out the 1kg pears packet from her plastic shopping bag and placing it on the side table beside his bed.

The blue eyes that had been closely watching her, grew large in astonishment. A long time ago memory flooded back whenever he visited her when Yousef was a baby, he would always eat a pear or two that were on the fruit bowl at the kitchen table. The fact she noticed about his preference shook him internally. He had wronged this woman in every possible way but she never failed to be compassionate towards him.

His throat constricted with unnamed emotions. He may be in pain physically with his limbs badly injured but the pain in his heart was delirious.

She stepped back, "I just came to see you. Get well soon." she said in a soft tone.

He panicked and before he could stop himself he said hoarsely, "Don't go."

Lines formed on her smooth ivory forehead as her light brown perfectly arched eyebrows drew together.

He opened his mouth to speak. He could see she was waiting. But nothing came out.

He swallowed hard and then rasped, "I ... I .."

Still, he couldn't. He clenched his eyes shut. Wrinkles forming around his eyes. "Susan please."

It was a plea.

She heard it all. But remained still in her stance. Gazing at the man who was once unapproachable. Today, he was at his weakest.

"I have made grave mistakes in my life. I never meant to hurt you. But the circumstances led me to take wrong and rash decisions." His eyes were still shut and head dipped lower.

His eyelids lifted. Twin tears escaped his ocean deep eyes that expressed of his agony and loneliness. His eyes held hers. "I am ashamed of what I did to you. I ... I ..."

And then he said the words he never thought he would ever say, "Forgive me."

Words she had been desperate to hear.

"Please," he implored further.

The silence was deafening. He held his breath, expecting her to leave and never to return.

Her heart was yielding but just then days and nights spent in loneliness rushed back. How she had cried herself to sleep and yearned him during the day.

It was three years of desertion.

Forgiveness wasn't easy.

Ruefully smiling, she murmured, "Take care."

She walked away, trampling his heart on the way out.

****

"You need to wrap her in the cotton blanket tightly. It's easier to carry her that way," Seema tightened the cotton wrapping cloth around the baby's body.

"Yes I do get scared," Salman scratched the back of his head, "And Ammi her head?"

"Always put your hand under her head. It will take around three months before her neck muscles will get strong enough to control her head movements." Seema hand slid under the baby's head and then placed the baby in Salman's arms.

"She was awake half the night last night," He said looking at the baby's peaceful face.

"She doesn't know what time it is. She doesn't know night is to sleep or day to be awake. She is still following her routine as it was in her mother's womb," Seema brushed away the bedsheet of the newly assembled cot.

"She will sleep in her cot today. You got a good one," Seema eyed the cot with appreciation.

"That's all I could get today I didn't want to leave Nawal for long. But Ghazala Khala said she would be there so I was at ease," Salman eyes didn't move from his daughter's face.

There was no improvement in Nawal's condition. Five days had passed by and no glimmer of hope at all. His worries were quickening as the days passed by but now there was serenity in him as he was seeking his Lord to bless his wife with health and life.

"What do you want to name her?" Seema asked as she stepped away from the cot.

Salman stood up and gently placed his daughter in the middle of the white and pink cot. "I want to wait until Nawal wakes up and so we will name her together."

"Inshaa Allah," Seema whispered.

There were still qualms and concerns in everyone's heart when Nawal would wake up. Doctors were not giving much hope as well. All the family members vigorously prayed to the One knowing only He will grant her the strength and ability to come back to them.

There was a beep sound from Salman's phone. He straightened, squaring his shoulders, he said, "Ammi I am going for Maghrib Salah (evening prayers) I will be back after Isha prayers (night prayer). Is there anything you want?"

Seema shook her head.

With one last glance at his daughter, he turned to leave.

"Don't worry I am here to take care of her." Seema reassured him. In the last few days he had changed a lot. It wasn't only the physical looks where his beard was overgrown, his face pale, puffy eyed and stress lines on his forehead but also emotionally. He was far more protective of his daughter than Seema could have imagined and much more for Nawal. Days were passed by where he was in the hospital all day long. Careless about his food or exhaustion. Daily, he spoke with doctors in detail but there was nothing new to report on.

Time was the only factor that would heal her.

But how much time?

****

In the corner of the Clonskeagh Masjid when the worshippers left after the Maghrib salah, Salman prostrated in front of his Lord. The masjid was nearly empty apart from a few lone worshippers reading the Quran. In the solitude, Salman cried to his Lord.

Ya Allah, bring her back to me.

Indeed, he had sinned in many ways. Most of all, he had hurt her deeply. The proclaiming of the divorce was one of biggest steps he had taken and that too recklessly. Divorce in Islam was one of the least preferred acceptable act in front of Allah. Today, Salman realized why. Because it not only tore apart families but broke hearts.

Forgiveness was part of a Muslim's trait. A trait he never cared for before. It was essential that one learns to forgive. When Allah the Creator could forgive His mere Creatures of the immense sins then why was he so arrogant and unyielding in forgiving.

"I forgive her," his lips uttered. This time when he expressed his forgiveness for her, it was sincere with no grudges.

"I forgive her ya Allah. Forgive her and forgive me Ya Allah," his shoulders shuddered as tears dripped down his nose to the masjid oriental design carpet.

"Ya Allah have mercy upon us."

There was never too late to seek forgiveness from the Creator.

****

Daud was staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. It had been a day since he was discharged and now he was living in his parent's house in the guest bedroom. He couldn't even be moved to his childhood room because it was an upstairs bedroom. The only option was that he stayed in the downstairs guest bedroom. Walking was painstaking problem at this stage let alone climbing up or down the stairs.

His father made all the required changes in the downstairs toilet for him but he still needed assistance. Ibrahim helped his son going in and out of the toilet. It was a challenging task especially because Daud was a well-built man, his limbs were heavy which made it strenuous for Ibrahim to manoeuvre him.

Bathing Daud was an issue of its own. This was why a trained nurse had visited them today to help Daud for a bath.

"Now Daud we will have to take this easy. You are still very sore I gather," Tom eyed his new patient.

"Yeah," mumbled Daud in irritation.

As Tom went through the steps they were going to take so he could bath in the most comfortable way possible, Daud mind went to how his life lead to this.

He was a man who never sought anyone's help. Not even his father's when he started the new business. However, circumstances and the turn of events had led him to be dependent on others.

Life was unpredictable. Never did he believe he will be in such a state that the mere act of taking a bath will be impossible without someone's assistance.

In that moment, as Tom helped in stripping Daud's clothes, he realized, indeed man was powerless in front of his Lord.

The exhaustion from taking the bath left Daud's aching and breathless. As Tom settled him on the bed against the raised puffed pillows, Daud asked, "Can you help me light the cigarette," his eyes lingering on the cigarette on the bedside drawer.

Tom eyebrows drew closer, "You shouldn't be smoking at this point in time."

"I don't think I can quit that easily," Daud muttered. Annoyance rising, he needed to smoke.

"Have you thought of nicotine gum or patches," Tom suggested.

"No. Can you please hand me the cigarette I will do it myself," he snapped at the nurse.

Shaking his head in pity at the young man, Tom took out a cigarette from the packet and gave Daud one. When the cigarette was pressed between his lips, Tom flamed it with a lighter.

Daud closed his eyes as he inhaled the first whiff of smoke. Holding the cigarette between his two fingers he gazed at it. The cigarette rolling between his fingers.

His thoughts going back to Susan. He wasn't worth of forgiveness. He had mistreated her in more ways than he could count. He didn't expect a miracle. Then why did it hurt so much knowing he had a lonely journey ahead of him.

Again he brought the cigarette to his lips. He puffed out smoke. At least, he found solace in this.

Alas, a momentarily solace.

****

A child squealing laugher woke him up. Arduously, Daud lifted his eyelids and for many minutes listened to the new voices in the house. His fuzzy mind deciphering them when it dawned upon him who was there.

Susan and Yousef.

Sleep vanished from his eyes, his heart beat slightly rising. Was she here to see him? Or was it her routine visit to his parents place?

His trembling hand clutched the support railing next to the bed, he slowly rose to a sitting position putting all his weight on the right uninjured side of his body. His chest was rising and falling as his breathing ragged due to the vigorous strength that went into changing the posture of his body. He leaned his back and head against the headboard of the bed. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. His head tilted and when he opened his eyes, he went completely still.

There, standing at the doorway was his son, Yousef.

Those blue eyes that were so similar to his stared back at him. He was exact replica of him except for the lighter shade of hair that were like his mother's. Looking at the little boy was as if he was reliving his childhood.

For the first time in days, his lips curled in a smile. His eyes lit with pleasure of seeing his son after months. His right hand extended towards the nearly three year old boy, "Yousef."

There was an eerie silence. The father and son stared at each other. It was a moment of acknowledging and reacquainting.

The little boy spun around and run off as fast as his chubby legs could allow. Daud, smile turned into a frown. His shoulders drooping in desolation. But the next words he heard of his son then summersaulted his heart.

Yousef was pulling Susan by her hand in the hall and as they reached near the doorway of the guest bedroom, he said, "Look Mommy," He pointed at Daud, "Daddy."

Cool grey eyes met astonished blue eyes.

The faint embers of hope were rekindled.

*****

Hours were spent sitting next to Nawal. Some hours were passed by reciting the Quran. Others talking to her. In their one and a half year of marriage, Salman had never spoken this much as now he spoke to her. The reality was he had no clue whether she was listening or not. He never gave up. He said his heart out to her. Perhaps, if not today maybe tomorrow she would hear his words.

"You know I am becoming an expert in bottle feeding the baby. Now even her slight movement at night wakes me up and I am up and getting the bottle ready for her. Ammi doesn't help me anymore. I think I am doing fine now." He was sitting on a plastic hospital chair beside Nawal's bed. Her hand in his. His thumb caressing her fingers.

As usual there was no response from Nawal not even a twitch of a muscle or flicker or eyelash.

Pursing his lips, he continued, "She is a week old today. Look how time is passing. She opens her eyes more now. She has eyes just like you. And her curls...Nawal you should see her curls. They are much more than yours."

Bringing her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss on the backside of her fingers, careful not to tug at the IV fluid tubes attached to her hand. "She reminds me of you. I see you in her." His eyes roving at her face.

She was a sleeping beauty now. Her scratches and scrapes on the face all healed. Although, the head bandage was intact. Her colour had improved, it wasn't as pale as it was. But she was losing weight. Her cheekbones much more prominent than before.

"She needs you Nawal. No matter how much I try I will never be able to take your place. Please come back so you can see her. Hold her. Love her."

His mobile phone beeped reminding him of the prayer time.

Gently he placed her hand on the bed, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, he breathed in her ear, "I am going for Zuhur salah when I come back I will tell you all about my adventure of changing our daughter's nappy."

All his conversations revolved around their daughter. Perhaps, this would motivate her to come back. Nawal had been very excited about the baby. The deep rooted love for their daughter might stir her to consciousness.

But Salman was wrong. Nawal had yearned for another's love all her life.

****

Holding his gaze, Susan asked, "How are you?"

At that moment, Daud was unaware of all the different aches and pains his body was enduring. "D..d...did he just call me Daddy?" He stammered. His ears still not believing what he just heard his son utter.

"Yes."

Daud swallowed uncomfortably. His lips quivered. His eyelids lowered. Taking a deep breath, his moist eyes met hers again, "Thank you for telling him about me."

She curtly nodded, then lowered herself to Yousef's height. She whispered few words in the little boy's ear. Yousef shook his head in response and clung at his mother's arm. Instead, with her hand on his back she lightly pushed him forward towards Daud's bed.

"C'mon." she encouraged.

Shyly, Yousef took one more step towards the bed and then said, "My cawr." Offering his car to Daud.

Daud smiled and gazed at the car, "That's a cool car Yousef. Did Mommy get you this?"

He shook his head, his hair falling on his forehead, "Daada (grandfather)"

The role he should have played as a father and bring toys for him was being fulfilled by Ibrahim. A lump formed in his throat. He had been a terrible father. A trembling finger touched Yousef's toy car, "Do you want to sit here and tell me about it?" Daud patted on the empty space beside him on the bed.

The little boy took his sweet time to think and then without further hesitation he climbed up the bed. Yousef hurriedly rolled his car's wheels on the bed's mattress, "Fast."

"Yes very fast. Do you want me to buy you a car too?" Daud asked earnestly.

Yousef beamed, his shining white teeth glimmered in the light, "Big cawr."

Tears glistened in his eyes but he couldn't stop his chuckle, "Yes a big car just for Yousef."

This is why her belief in Allah strengthened, seeing how He made the impossible possible. On unstable legs, Susan backed away from the room. Leaving the father and son to learn about each other. Leaning her head against the hall wall, tears slid down her face.

At last, her son had found his father.

****

Days passed by, Daud was very slowly recovering. Most of the day was spent in sleep. It was important he rested. In fact, he had not much activity as he was bound by plasters. The highlight of his day was whenever Susan and Yousef came over. She was coming nearly every day and during this time his bond with his son grew.

"Vroom vroom," Yousef made sounds as he slid the car on the mattress of Daud's bed.

For the last two hours Yousef had been sitting on Daud's bed sometimes playing with his car and other times playing on Daud's phone. In the last few days, Daud had installed games for pre-schooler boys which attracted Yousef to sit beside Daud without any complaints.

Daud was on a call with his business associates as he ended the call, Yousef scooted closer to Daud, "Race race."

The little boy was demanding for the racing game. Daud smiled, "One minute little guy."

Clicking on the pre-school racing car game, Daud handed his mobile phone to the eager little boy. Biting his lower lip, the boy pressed his thumb on the car to guide it to race faster. Daud's eyes softened, since the presence of Yousef he had found an internal strength to recover quickly so he could spend quality time with his son. His life now shaping with a new meaning.

"You will spoil him this way," Susan folded her arms in front of her standing at the threshold.

"It is just for a while," Daud reasoned as he glanced at the woman who hardly spoke to him.

"C'mon Yousef we are going home. It's getting late." Susan leaned forward. Taking the phone from Yousef's hand, she held his hand to help him get down the bed.

"He is a good boy, reminds me of my childhood," Daud commented, watching Susan put on Yousef's shoes for him.

"Really?" Susan absentmindedly glanced at Yousef's face, "And here I thought he is like me."