Dr. Al Ghaffari smiled his eyes levelled with Salman's, "We finally have progress, Salman. This is the first stage of recovery from coma. She isn't fully conscious yet but now her reflexes are working as we speak to her."

For a brief second, Salman closed his eyes and sighed in relief. There were too many questions swarming in his head. His eyelids lifted and apprehension was clearly shining in them, "How can she fully be conscious now?"

The doctor shrugged, "Maybe a few hours, few days or a couple of weeks. We really don't know. But what you can do and others who are close to her, talk to her. Make her respond to you even if it is just her arm or leg movement only. You need to remember she will not always respond there are few hours in a day where she will be semi-conscious to be able to respond."

Salman curtly nodded, he thought out loud his worst fear, "What about amnesia? Do you fear she may have any kind of memory loss when she is fully conscious?"

"We don't know yet. Let's take step by step in her recovery. She is a strong young woman. Inshaa Allah she will recover faster than what our assumptions are."

"I hope so doctor. I really hope so Inshaa Allah," he whispered as he clasped the doctor's hand for a firm handshake, "Thank you once again for all your help."

The doctor walked away and Salman sauntered in Nawal's hospital ICU room. On the bed, she lay still like a statue. Beautiful as a porcelain doll. His hand found hers. Frozen fingers like icicles. He kissed the fingertips, lightly blowing on them to warm her.

"Nawal can you hear me?" his lips moved against her fingers.

There was no reaction.

His eyes scanning her arms, legs, feet and face. Hoping to detect any sign of a response from her. But there was none.

"Nawal..." for the first time in his life he said an endearment, "Please love," he swallowed hard, "I am here waiting for you to come back to me."

Perhaps, he would have to wait longer before she responds to him.

"I will always be here for you. Our baby is waiting for me. I will be back tomorrow morning Inshaa Allah. Allah hafiz," Slowly his hold on her fingers slackened. Gently, he placed her hand on the bed and stood up to leave to attend his baby girl at home.

He never noticed the slight flicker of her eyelashes.

****

It was Friday evening and Daud was impatiently waiting for his son and Susan to arrive any minute. They were late. His eyes drifted back to the wall clock every five minutes. The house was too quiet. He missed the liveliness his son brought to the house.

There was a little improvement where his physiotherapy session had also started. He was now able to walk with the help of a crutch. It was excruciating to even drag himself from the bedroom to the living room. He never gave up. Even now, he was settled on a living room sofa, his right hand fingers tapping just above his knee.

Chloe was baking chocolate chip cookies and the aroma had filled the house. Daud sniffed, his eyes closed lost in memories of his childhood how his mother used to bake him all sorts of desserts especially during holidays.

"It's a long time since you baked cookies Mom," Daud called out to Chloe who was in the kitchen.

Chloe strolled out of the kitchen in her floral apron over her pants and shirt, she grinned, "They are for my grandson."

"He likes cookies?" his eyes slightly widened.

"He loves them. I try to bake him whenever I can," she hesitated few second then said, "I am so happy to see how Yousef has bonded with you."

"Yeah and I hope things will change further," he glanced at the box sitting next to him. His eyes glimmered, glancing at his mother he mused out loud, "He is my boy."

"The sooner you realise that the better. I see so much of you in him already," Chloe murmured.

Before he could express his intentions of never neglecting his son, the doorbell chimed. His lips curled in a smile.

They were home.

"Glanny, Glanny, cookies!!" Yousef exclaimed in excitement in the hall.

Chloe ruffled his hair, "I have made a full tray of cookies for my munchkin." She bent down next to him and pointed at her cheek, "Give Granny a kiss."

Enthusiastically, Yousef kissed his grandmother on the cheek. With a toothy grin, he rushed to the living room but halted seeing his father sitting on the sofa. That was new. So far he had seen his father always in the downstairs bedroom.

But then his eyes landed on the box next to Daud.

"Big Cawr," Yousef jumped up and down on the spot where he was standing.

"Yousef where are your manners," Susan reprimanded walking behind him. Expectantly, she raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms over her chest.

Guiltily Yousef gazed at his mother then mumbled, "Walaikumulsalam"

The smile that lingered on Daud's face turned to a smirk, "Walaiakum salam, is it? Is this how you greet?"

Susan rolled her eyes, "How many times I have told him it is Assalam u alaikum but he always says it the other way."

Daud opened his one good arm and earnestly welcomed his son home, "Come here and give your Daddy a hug."

Yousef hesitated for a few seconds and then ran to his father, hugging him tightly, but his eyes were on the box.

Daud winced in slight pain as Yousef didn't realize not to use his strength on his father. Susan read his face and stepped closer, "Yousef what did I tell you? You need to be careful with Daddy. He isn't well."

"Solly," Yousef sheepishly grinned.

"Are you okay?" concerned brimmed in Susan's eyes.

Gazing at her silvery gaze, momentarily he was lost. Why had he never noticed how mesmerizing her eyes were before? But then it was her eyes that had captivated him on that long ago night, "I am fine," he whispered.

"Big cawr," Yousef pointed at the big box that had a remote control toy car.

Few days back, Daud had purchased the toy car on an online toy store. He felt awful seeing his son playing with very small dinkies. Today, when the parcel arrived, he wasn't able to contain the excitement. now seeing the wonder in Yousef eyes he knew it was all worth it.

"Big car for Yousef," Daud said softly, his eyes never leaving Yousef's face.

Yousef's eyes rounded in astonishment, "Mine big cawr."

"Yes. My Yousef's big car," Daud pushed the box slightly towards the little boy.

Eagerly, Yousef clutched the big box to his chest and then sat on the floor with the box, hurrying to open it.

"You shouldn't have," Susan choked out the words even though her throat was tightened with unnamed emotions. With each passing day Yousef and Daud were coming closer. The number of years she had yearned for this were too many. Now that her supplication was being fulfilled, she would cry in solitude thanking her Lord for finally listening to her heart's cry.

"He has been talking for the big car for the last few weeks. Of course I had to get him," Daud said gazing at Yousef who struggled to open the box. His eyelids lifted and he met her gaze. In those mystic silver eyes, he saw such fierce emotions that even at times he would shy away.

Afraid to believe.

Not ready to hope.

Standing at the threshold, Chloe clicked the picture of the couple gazing at each other and the pre-schooler sitting on the floor in front of them. They were the picture perfect of a young couple with a child. If only, Daud complied and forego his stubbornness.

"Here let me," Susan knelt down beside her son as she helped him open the box. Within minutes, the remote control toy car was out and zooming around the room. Yousef following the car with the remote control pointing at it.

The smile on his face was priceless. The smile Daud had been craving for. This was just the start. He planned to shower his son with all kinds of gifts.

****

"She is slowly improving," Salman replied to his father's question. His eyes on his plate as he spooned rice.

"Alhumdulilah (Praises be to Allah)," Adil murmured. His frail wrinkled fingers clutched the spoon, "What about Daud? How is he?"

There was unnerving silence in the room.

Salman acted as if he never heard the question and quietly ate the contents on his plate. Seema was hesitant to reply. Muhammad earnestly answered, "He is improving Aba jee but he has a long recovery ahead of him. It will take months before he is on his feet."

Curtly, Adil nodded. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was about to say out his thought instead he pursed his lips.

"Salman, tomorrow I want to go and visit Nawal. Why don't you stay with the baby in the morning until I come back?" Seema tried her best to clear the air. After Adil mentioning Daud's name there was a tense atmosphere.

"Sure," Salman lifted his glass to drink water when the faint cries of the baby filled the room. Hastily, Salman placed the glass back on the table without even taking a single sip. Pushing his chair back, he sprinted out of the room for the baby. His food forgotten.

There was wonder in Seema's eyes, "She is everything to him now."

"Corrections, Nawal and baby both are everything to him now." Muhammad stressed.

Many hours later, Seema was on her bed lost in deep thoughts. Muhammad sauntered in the room, coming back from his father's room.

Sitting next to his wife, Muhammad lightly touched her arm, "Seemi jaan, what is it?"

Her eyes glistened with tears, "I just came from Nawal's room, Salman was rocking the baby. No matter how many times the baby wakes up during the night he never frowns. He patiently looks after her. There is emptiness in that room. I pray Nawal is back soon to be the mother and wife this household needs."

His hand covered hers. Giving her hand a light squeeze he said, "I was wrong about her."

Her eyebrows drew together in bewilderment.

"Since she is Ghazala's daughter I always thought she is like her mother. This is why I resented Salman marrying her." he smiled ruefully, "I have seen all my life how you got influenced by her and then how much it hurt you. Your silent tears, you may have hid them from me but I did see them. I didn't want Salman going through the same."

"Nawal reminds me of myself," Seema whispered.

"I realize that now," Muhammad brought her hand to his lips, "You are not the only one who is praying Seemi. So am I."

Squeezing her hand affectionately once more, Muhammad desolately gazed at his wife, "Now every time I see Salman, I see emptiness in his eyes. I pray he finds his happiness now."

"Inshaa Allah."

****

At dinner table, conversation swirled around Daud but he didn't participate. A lively dinner a stark difference from the mundane quietness. Tonight Susan and Yousef had brought brightness and vivacity on the table. Yousef was noisily clanking the cutlery on his plate. Susan was animatedly conversing with his parents, slowly he paid attention to what was being said. His lips curled in distress even though he didn't express his thoughts.

"—Yes it has been difficult since my friend got married. Part-time jobs don't pay much but it's enough for Yousef and me," Susan glanced at Yousef, love evident in her eyes.

"I have said this before and I am going to say again I am always here to mind Yousef whenever you want," Chloe reminded her.

Susan slightly shook her head, "No thank God, now that I am teaching it's not as bad. Yousef is enrolled at the ECCE program (free nursery part of government educate early program). So he get free three hours daily on it I just need to pay an extra for two more hours which isn't as much as it would have been if I was paying for all day Crèche."

"You are teaching now?" Daud asked incredulously.

For the first time at the dinner table, her eyes met his, she squared her shoulders and confidently replied, "Yes I teach first class at the new Islamic school."

Astonished, Daud stared at the woman he had abandoned. Today, after great struggle she had found her place in the society. This was a big blow to his pride. He thought deserting her would make her grovel her to admission of meddling in his personal life. But he was the fool all along. He had never appreciated the gem that was shining right under his nose.

As the dinner continued, he wandered what it would have been like if he had married this brave, confident woman years ago. His arm pained as he slightly moved. Certainly, today he would have been at a better place. There, sitting amidst his family, the biggest realization of his life hit him hard. He really had messed up with his life. Running after the wrong woman all along. The fear of not being accepted by his extended family had made him push away the real happiness that was right in front of him – this selfless woman and his son. His jaw clenched, he was going to make it right now.

How?

Would she even accept him?

****

Right after dessert, Susan declared, "We better leave. It's late as it is."

"It's only 8.30pm right now. Stay a while longer. Yousef is enjoying his time too," Chloe gestured at the boy who was giggling, sitting on his grandfather's lap.

Standing up from the chair, Susan said, "It's just that I don't like to travel on the bus late night. There are always drunk or other kinds of people. With Yousef I am a little apprehensive."

Daud was still sitting on the dining table chair. With his right hand on table, he straightened to his feet, "Don't go."

Susan's eyebrows knitted and Chloe halted in carrying dishes to the kitchen.

Daud cleared his throat, "What I meant is, why go now. Stay the night over here. You and Yousef can sleep in my room upstairs. You can leave tomorrow during day time."

"I ... I ... I don't think that is a good idea." Susan was baffled making her stammer. Her mind racking with excuses, "We don't have any clothes or anything."

"Mom has kept most of my childhood clothes I am sure something will fit Yousef. As for you," his eyes slithered down her body. Her cheeks warming. She was dressed elegantly in a white floral summer maxi dress and a matching hijab. "You can borrow Mom's clothes."

"Maybe next time when we are more prepared," Susan said in firmer voice.

She stepped back from the table but Daud wasn't done yet, "Please Susan. I want yo--." He cleared his throat, amending his words, "I want to spend more time with Yousef. It's weekend so it won't be a problem for your work as well."

She held eyes for several minutes and then stated her decision, "Alright."

He smirked, "Mom can you please put on the kettle. We are all going to have tea at the backyard."

****

Under the stars, the older couple sat with the younger one, chatting about different topics. Yousef was put to bed hours ago. Susan was seeing a new side of Ibrahim and Chloe. They had always been very cordial but tonight they were even more relaxed and friendly in the presence of their son. As they narrated one after another Daud childhood stories, she observed how at times Daud's cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

"—He had this habit of always changing clothes when he was around Yousef's age. He would go to his wardrobe and change clothes five or six times a day." Chloe remembered.

Ibrahim's shoulders shook in silent mirth and Daud shook his head, horrified knowing well what his father was about to narrate.

"Once a friend of mine was about to come over so we could go to watch the rugby match together. The doorbell rang as usual Daud was taking out clothes from his wardrobe. He ran off to greet my friend. He eagerly opened the door. My poor friend was embarrassed to see naked Daud smiling happily." Ibrahim chuckled.

It was difficult to contain laughter listening to such stories. Susan giggled.

Mortified, Daud covered his face with his hand, "Bas Dad. I think Susan had enough for today."

Ibrahim stretched his legs, sitting on the garden chair, "You are right." He smiled fondly, "It was great fun remembering those days. It's getting late now. Good night," he carried his and Daud's tea mug to the kitchen.

Chloe also followed her husband after bidding farewell.

An awkward silence settled in. Susan tapped her fingers on the glass table top, "I better go to sleep as well."

Ignoring her statement, Daud spoke in a soft tone, "Thank you for staying over tonight."

She was gazing at the large and fragrant lavender plant. Unwilling to meet her gaze with him. "It's okay. I enjoyed as well."

"It means a lot to me that you come so often. Giving me a chance to get closer to Yousef."

Her eyes drifted to the rose bush, "I am doing this for Yousef."

"And us?"

That is when her eyes collided with his, "There was never us."

"I would like to change that," he sat up straighter on the chair.

She stared at the man who she had fallen head over heels for. The man, she recklessly believed for years that he truly cared for her. Life had taught her not to follow her traitorous heart. It only led to heartbreak.

"I don't know." She rose to her feet to retire for the night. As she passed his chair, he grasped her hand.

"Don't Daud."

Immediately, he loosened his grip and she stepped back. She thought he would burst into anger but he surprised her.

He regretted touching her. From what he had observed she was dedicatedly practising Islam and especially the tenants of modesty in the religion. Her hair was always confined in a hijab. Not even a glimpse of those honey brown hair was seen. She was either clad in different abaya or long maxi dresses that never emphasized her figure. He never meant to disrespect her.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have," his shoulders hunched forward. "All I ask for is a second chance." His head turned towards her, "Please."

"You know you are the only man to ever come in my life. I was gullible to have high hopes from you. You were quick to crush all my dreams and longings. Call me cautious but I doubt your sincerity. I need to be focused for the sake of Yousef. He is my main priority. As for us...I leave that in Allah's hands. If it is mean to be it will. If not ..."

She nonchalantly shrugged.

"Just one chance I ask you."

In the dark, his azure blue eyes gleamed. They were as deep as the ocean which she could easily drown in.

Why after all that happened she couldn't make herself hate him?

"I fear of drowning."

Perplexed, he sceptically asked, "drowning?"

She shook her head slowly, "You won't understand. In love one tends to drown."

His heartbeat skidded. He looked away at the glow of the midsummer night sky. Hues of purple and blue blended as if it was an artist canvas.

"Then teach me."

She looked at him dubiously.

"We can drown hand in hand."

She bit her lip refraining from smiling, "You are good with your words."

Solemnly and sincerely, he again pressed, "Think what I said."

"I will."

****

There was utter silence in the house in the last couple of days. No child's shouts or cries. No women chatting. There were occasional murmurs of Daud's parents and at times his mother speaking on the phone with her friends or family. The silence was eating him up.