In the modern high rise of Dublin city centre apartment, the blue eyes crinkled as he lightly threw ball to his son. His son's grey eyes which were replica of his mother's widened and Yousef pouted, "That's not fair Daddy." Yousef was fast at catching the ball for a four year old but it seemed his father was an expert when it came to ball games.

Daud smiled, "You can do better. C'mon." He threw the soft ball again, "Let's see if you can catch this."

Yousef jumped, literally flew in the air to grab the ball. The ball landed in his arms but he fell. His head hitting the corner of the coffee table. A loud wail escaped his lips as the impact of the fall throbbed his head. Daud hastily moved forward, not caring of his own injuries, he bent down to hurl his son in his arms.

"That's alright. You are fine." He rubbed Yousef's head but Yousef kept crying loudly. There were no tears seen. Daud impishly remarked, "I thought strong boys don't cry." The little boy was shocked by the impact and there was no harm done.

Immediately, the crying ceased. Yousef lifted his head from Daud's chest and peered at his father's face, "I am strong boy."

Daud went on with a feigned look, "Is that so? Someone was saying that he was superman," Daud's blue eyes glinting with mischief.

Nodding eagerly, Yousef exclaimed "I AM SUTHERMAN"

Daud chuckled, "Yes, my sutherman," he winked.

In the last weeks, as he lived with his son, every day was a new adventure for Daud. He learned small details of Yousef which he was never aware of such as how much the little boy liked superheroes or the fact he preferred eating pasta over rice. Then, there were days where Susan chased him around the apartment just so Yousef would sit and eat. And a very unique habit that surprised him, Yousef loved to play with someone's hair while going to sleep. He had experienced first-hand when Yousef had slept beside him. There had been one or two very strong tugs at his hair and he had winced sleepily.

Daud ruffled Yousef's brown hair, "No more crying now."

Just then, Susan rushed after hearing Yousef's wail. Now in annoyance, she folded her arms in front of her and chided the little boy, "Yousef how many times I have told you not to play with the ball. You will get hurt. There is not enough space for ball games."

Guiltily, Yousef buried his face in his father's chest, "You know Mommy is right," Daud said in a hushed tone.

Yousef pouted again, ready to start his wailing again. Daud calmed him down, "But I am sure Yousef will not play again here like this. Right Yousef?" Daud raised his hand for a hi-five.

Yousef clapped his father's hand with a wide grin, "Yah."

"Good." nodding in satisfaction, Susan added, "I will take you to the park when the weather is good."

"Mommy never takes me to the park." The little boy huffed in annoyance.

Susan's eyes widened at her son's antics.

Standing up from the floor slowly and vigilantly because of his injured leg and arm, he thought out loud, "What you need is a big backyard where you can run around and play all sorts of games."

And that was precisely what Daud had plan for.

But first, he had to get well enough to get back to work and make his plans into a reality.

****

Salman had heard of silent treatment was the worst kind of admonishment. As a child his parents had always scolded him or gave him time out. Never had he experienced the so-called 'silent treatment'. That is until now. The fragile relationship with his wife had taken a severe turn for the worse once again. At this moment in time, he preferred Nawal's bickering and jibes than her silence. It was killing him.

In the last one week, he had tried his best to soothe her. He broached the topic again, but she walked out on him. He stepped up to do more chores for Rania, but she fend him off easily. He even gifted her flowers which she didn't even glance at. Now sitting in front of his laptop in his home office, he was at a loss of ideas. How much can a man do?

He let it be... perhaps, with time her anger would dissipate. Well that's what he was hoping for. He rubbed his eyes wearily. One thing was sure, his wife was going to keep him on his toes for the rest of their lives. Whether it was her stubborn attitude or her unpredictability. But this is what he loved about her. She was .... There were hardly enough words to describe her. She was Nawal. And in her own way she was his. He had come to realize that no matter what she would be there for him as he was there for her.

His lips twitched. She might not be talking to him or being warm towards him but there were subtle signs that showed she wasn't that mad at him. Like how she prepared his favourite breakfast every morning. Although, it was a different story that she didn't accompany him while he ate. Or how she would remember to put his phone to charge late at night when she would be awake to feed Rania.

No ... she wasn't stone hearted. Just annoyed and with time she would be alright. After all, in this relationship one couldn't ignore the other forever, now could she? Perhaps, ice cream would cheer her up. An ice cream that would melt the frost between them. Before he could get off his chair, he heard her lilting voice,

"Salman?" she peaked through the slightly ajar door. For the first time in days their eyes met. His heart picked up speed. Tilting his head sideways he gestured her to come in.

This was the first time since their argument that she had initiated any conversation. He attentively gazed at her. After a prolong moment, she spoke.

"I wanted to visit Mom and Dad..." her voice trailed off.

Imperceptibly nodding, Salman replied softly, "Okay. When are you going?"

"Tomorrow morning." When he didn't respond she reasoned, "I will be back by afternoon."

"If you want you can stay over at Khala's." Idly, he tapped the end of the pen on the desk.

Nawal narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Why?"

Immediately, creases formed on Salman's forehead, "Because it's been long since you have been at your parents."

"Is that all?" She wasn't convinced.

He sighed and stood up. Rounding the desk, he closed the distance between them, "For once Nawal don't think the worse of me."

She opened her mouth to give a sarcastic reply but thought better of it and clamped shut her mouth. Her jaw line hardening. She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of the argument. It was far better to remain cold.

"Thank you."

"Give my regards to Khala and Khalu." His hands stuffed in his pants pockets.

Conceding to his request, she left the room. He strode out the window and stared at the swirling leaves dancing to the tune of the autumn winds.

There was a disturbing thought at the back of his head. He might be optimistic that everything will work out between him and Nawal but what if it never did?

****

Ibrahim sipped the last drop of tea in his tea mug. He smiled courteously at his daughter in law. "Susan thank you for the wonderful tea but I better go. Chloe will be waiting for me for dinner." He glanced at his son, "Your mother has made fish pie and I don't want to eat it cold."

Daud chuckled as he slowly rose from the sofa, "Dad has weakness for Mom's pies. Whether it is savoury ones or sweet ones."

Strolling to the door, Ibrahim good naturedly humoured, "It's one of your mother's traits that attracted me. She is a wonderful cook and exceptional baker."

Patting Susan's shoulder, "Take care of yourself and the lads. If you ever want us to mind Yousef you know we are just a call away."

"Thank you... thank you Dad," Susan whispered.

Ibrahim's eyes widened slightly. This was first time Susan had called him Dad. He wasn't able to contain his emotions. He enveloped her in a bear hug. His voice muffled against her hair, "You are the daughter I always wanted." Tears clouded his vision but before they could spill he jabbed, "Which is why if Daud ever trouble you just warn him that he will have to face me."

Ever since, Susan had met Ibrahim and Chloe they had become close to her. In the preceding months, they had filled the hollowness in her that was strongly present since the death of her own parents. And today it felt right to call Ibrahim 'Dad'. Ibrahim had stood by her through thick and thin, always concerned for her.

As Susan stepped back from Ibrahim, Daud stood beside and wrapped his arm around Susan's shoulder, "Is that offer for me too? What do I do when Susan trouble me?"

Susan narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to reply him. Instead, Daud squeezed her shoulder, "I am kidding."

He then said under his breath, "I don't want to get into trouble."

Ibrahim laughed heartily, "You are treading on dangerous grounds. Always be on the sweet side of your wife," he winked at them as he stepped out of the apartment.

After bidding Ibrahim farewell, Daud slowly settled on the sofa. He stretched his leg in front of him, "It's so good to finally walk normally."

From behind the kitchen counter, Susan nodded, "Alhumdulilah, it is only Allah in whose hands is all our affairs."

Their eyes met, after a prolong silence, Daud whispered, "I am learning it is far better to wait for the right time than fight for your fate."

"There is the right for everything Daud. All we need is patience." Susan murmured back as she opened the kitchen cabinet to fish ingredients for dinner preparation.

It was many minutes later that Daud pondered as he worked on his pending office work on the laptop,

He was running out of patience...

***

In her childhood bed, Nawal covered Rania with the baby pink blanket. The baby had fallen asleep for her mid-afternoon nap. Slowly, Nawal straightened into a sitting position. Crossing her legs, she gazed around the room. How different it seemed to be in this room now. Nearly two years later as a married woman with her baby daughter.

It was in this room, she had spent her happy childhood days and chaotic teenage years where she got into trouble for one reason or the other with her mother. And it was in this room, she had dreamt of becoming a different man's wife. Her gaze falling at the frame of pictures she had mounted on the wall. Slowly rising to her feet, she walked to the wall to observe the pictures. It was a collage of pictures of the yester years. They were snippets of her childhood. Pictures with her brothers, her friends and .... Her cousins. There were birthday pictures where Salman and Manal would always bring a cake for her birthday. Now she wondered if it was only Salman behind the gesture. It had become a tradition for them to bring a cake. Salman would always comment that Seema made him buy a cake for her. But now she doubt it.

The last few days had been very awkward where she had stopped talking to him completely. In fact, not acknowledging his presence which was impossible when they were living under one room and sharing one room. Deep down, she knew she shouldn't be too hard on Salman. After all, he was being honest but she was fed up of being judged. Why couldn't people see past her mistakes and flaws? A more rational voice within her kept reminding her that he had forgiven her for everything and wanted a new beginning.

But it just hurt. And this deep wrenching hurt had led to keep her silence. She rather weep in quietness than unleash her anger.

There was a slight knock on the door and Ghazala peered in the room, "I was wondering where you disappeared." She said in a hushed tone as she glanced at the sleeping baby on the bed.

Nawal tensed, so far her mother hadn't been her usual stern self. Rather she had been very quiet all day since her arrival in the morning. "Rania was due her nap."

Nodding faintly, Ghazala sat on the edge of the bed. For many minutes Nawal silently observed her mother who was fidgeting with the end of the mattress and bedsheet. Then finally Ghazala looked up and said,

"I am sorry."

Nawal's eyes widened.

Encouraged by Nawal's silence, Ghazala went on, "After your accident I had a lot of time to think over of what kind of mother I have been. And ... and ..." she swallowed hard.

"I... I ... I ... am sorry." Ghazala said hoarsely. Tears gathered in her eyes as she shamelessly begged, "Forgive me Nawal I wronged you in so many ways."

Nawal was stand still. Her eyes still widened. She was unable to comprehend what Ghazala was saying.

"Please beta," Ghazala's voice croaked, "I ... I .. did what I thought was best for you. I forced my opinions upon you. I never trusted you. And ... I even deceived you about your marriage. Forcing you to marry the man you didn't want to. "

There was no reaction seen on Nawal's face. She stood motionless.

Ghazala pleaded between her sobs, "Please....Forgive your mother."

At that moment, Nawal took the two steps that separated them. For the first time in her adult life, Nawal wrapped her arms around her mother. "Don't Mom." She kept repeating. And when Ghazala's arms tightened around Nawal. She was at peace.

She finally found her mother's love. The lifelong of grievousness perished in that poignant moment.

***

Daud was quietly reading through the reports on his laptop on the living room single sofa. It had been more than two months now since he went to work. The daily reports were exhausting to review and then accordingly discussing them with his subordinates took tedious long hours. For the last few minutes, he wasn't able to concentrate on the written contents of the laptop screen. Instead, his gaze kept drifting at the woman in front of him. Susan was cooking, her light brown hair in a messy bun, her cheeks reddened for standing too long in front of the cooker and her casual dressing in a simple peach orange t-shirt and black lounge pants made her look the most alluring woman to Daud.

Over the last few weeks, his tender feelings for her had grown and now with each passing minute, this agony of being together but still maintaining distances between them was too much for him to handle. He had to take matters in his hands.

Slowly, placing the laptop on the coffee table, Daud rubbed his jaw and thought loud enough for Susan to hear, "I think I cut myself while shaving today."

Susan glanced as she was stirring the rice pot and frowned, "I don't see anything."

"How will you know? You are standing so far away." He pointed out.

Switching off the cooker and covering the rice pot with its lid, she walked up to him. Her eyes narrowing as she scanned his face, "I still don't see anything."

"Come closer and you will." He said softly.

She took the last step and tip of her toe touched the side of his foot, "Where?" her eyes on his jawline.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her, "Here."

She squealed in surprise and fell on top of him, "Daud what are you ...?" She wasn't able to complete her question as his lips silenced her in a breathless kiss. Astounded, she wasn't able to respond to his demanding mouth, her hands on his chest, their legs tangled. But Daud craved for a response, his hands gently rubbed up and down her back, coaxing her to kiss back. And when she did, his pent up desires unleashed like the rushing of water flowing from a broken dam. He pulled her closer, her legs straddling his waist, her chest pressed against his and his fingers slowly sinking in her long silky locks.

It was after many minutes when they pulled apart. They were breathless. He leaned his forehead against hers and asked softly with their lips only hair breadth away, "Yousef sleeping?"

She wasn't able to speak, her throat was clogged with too many emotions. Her heart still racing rapidly. She faintly nodded. This was enough for Daud to brush his lips against her smooth swollen lips. His hands plunged inside her t-shirt. Tracing her ribs with his fingers, he pulled up her t-shirt. He had waited too long. He wasn't able to wait any longer. And from the way Susan moaned when his fingers lingered on her stomach, he knew she wanted this just as badly. He let their unbridled desires take over them.

The memories of the last time with Susan haunted him for many months after and now they had rushed back. Since then he hadn't been with any other woman. The fact Susan had conceived had held him back to ever approach a woman sexually. His hands tightened on the curve of her waist but she didn't mind, her lips lingering on his cleanly shaven jawline. He dipped his head and captured her lips in a searing kiss that made her dizzy. Fingers trailed up her back in a hot line leaving her quivering. He couldn't wait and neither could she. Her hands feeling his abs under his shirt as she drew it up revealing his powerful built chest and ab muscles.

He held up his arms, as she freed his shirt from them and over his head. His hand went down to her lounge pants clad bottom, he brought her closer, "Wrap your legs around me" he said breathlessly. She did as she was told unable to make out why he would say that. And the next minute, he was carrying her up, a muffled cry left her lips, her arms tightened around his neck, she exclaimed, "Daud your arm."

He stood up with her in his arms and took couple of the steps to the large sofa. He wasn't going to make love to her on the single sofa. She was his wife and had to be treated with respect. "It's okay" he groaned as he lay her on the sofa and followed her.

Now there was no stopping, his hands were everywhere and his lips... she was being trapped in this web of passion, he was building in her. Her trembling hands palmed his face, as she gazed in his beautiful blue eyes and tears filled her eyes. How long she had waited for him? How many lonely nights she had spent thinking of him? She leaned her head forward and kissed his chest exactly where his heart was thudding. The warmth of her lips melted the ice around his heart...

The clock ticked, the laptop low battery sign beeped and the aroma of the cooked rice faded away but this was all trivial to Daud, cradling his woman in his arms. Laying on the large three seater sofa, her back pressed to his sturdy chest, he felt content in a very long time. His hand idly traced the curve of her waist under the throw that was covering their bodies.

This felt right.

It was right.

For the first time, he succumbed to his desires the way Allah had ordained. It was a peaceful moment. Their moment.

She stirred and turned to him, her back against the sofa cushions. His arm was propped under his head. As he gazed at her grey eyes, he saw a new emotion in them - contentment. Her hand caressed the side of his face feeling the smoothness of his cheekbone and the slight roughness of his shaven jaw. Electric current went through him as her hand laid on his cheek. Looking deeply in his magnetic blue eyes, she whispered, "I love you."

The last of the ice in his heart melted.

His throat went dry and his tongue tied up. He wasn't able to reply back. But he showed her through his actions as his lips crushed hers once again.

And she knew. She knew it in her heart that he loved her too.

***