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Mariam's POV

"I miss her."

Those three words were like a stab to the heart, but I kept my cool and snuggled against him, murmuring into his shirt, "Me too."

It had been a year – one full year – without the most wonderful woman I had ever met in my life. The earth had made one revolution around the sun while the sunshine of our lives had been taken away.

"I had another dream about her last night," Damian said, his voice rumbling in his chest as I lay my head in the nook of his shoulder, a spot I found to be very comfortable. "We were at the beach, and she was wading into the water. She kept walking into the ocean, until I couldn't see her anymore. I called for her but she was...she was gone." Damian swallowed, and hearing his dream brought tears to my eyes, tears I blinked away.

"She loved the beach," he continued in a soft whisper, almost as if he were talking to himself.

"Allah yarhamha," I murmured, which meant God bless her soul. The last days of her life were hard for all of us, and what helped us through was the fact that she was a Believer, and she never stopped praying. Her last words to me were, "It's okay not to be okay, but please, don't pretend to be okay when you're not. I know you, Mariam."

I know you.

How thankful I was that I had known her.

I closed my eyes and listened to the breath flow through him, in and out, a constant motion that we ourselves had no conscious control over, because only Allah had the full control of the life within us, as well as the life around us. How thankful I was for the people in my life – people like Damian. But people was such a general term that had no power to convey what Damian meant to me. He was more than just a person. He was my soulmate, chosen by Allah. And frankly, I wasn't complaining.

"Let's do something," I proposed, shifting my head to look up at him. He just continued to regard me through his eyelashes, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. "Let's go somewhere far away."

"And never come back?" Damian added with a lopsided smile.

"Of course we have to come back," I opposed dejectedly. "But before we do come back, we should just let go of everything, all our problems, and clear our heads."

"Like a second honeymoon?" Damian smirked.

"I guess you could call it that." I smiled at the memory of our honeymoon. We originally wanted to postpone it since going away on vacation was way too soon after Kareema's passing, with only four months between, but Damian's father, who had taken her passing the hardest, insisted that we still enjoy ourselves, and go on a holiday. So we stayed for four days in a resort in Sabah, Malaysia, and it definitely was the best experience of my life. We had gone horseback riding along the beach, gone on a sunset cruise around the islands, trekking through the jungle and tasted some really delicious cuisine. But on top of that, Damian and I got to know each other on a whole new level.

"Okay, then, Mariam, what do you have in mind?" Damian inquired.

"Uh..." That was as far as I had planned, since I had just thought of it. Believe it or not, but Damian was better at coming up with things on the spot. And by the twinkle in his eyes, I could tell he already had an idea.

"I know where we should go."

"Where?"

"It's a secret," Damian grinned mischievously, and I sighed, knowing the drill.

"You aren't going to tell me until we get there, are you?"

"You know me so well," Damian pinched my nose, and I pulled a face at him.

"I also know that you're very annoying," I said.

"Don't forget handsome," Damian winked.

"You're lucky I like you," I prodded his chest.

"Only like? Aw, I was hoping for more," Damian sulked, jutting his lower lip.

"You'll get more later, now come on, let's go," I dragged him by the arm, and he reluctantly stood up from the couch. I led the way to the stairs but he stopped me with a hand on my waist, spinning me around and gifting me with a kiss.

"You'll get more later," he flashed me a sly grin, and though he used the same words I had used, his held a deeper meaning.

And despite living and sleeping with him for a year, he still had a way of making me blush.

***

Damian's POV

The way she smiled. The way she laughed. The way her eyes danced when I said her name.

She was everything to me, and I'd be nothing without her.

Oh, wait, scrap that, I'd be nothing without Allah, but Allah gave me her, and I thanked Him everyday for that. She was the one who had helped me through my grief, and been there by my side, quite literally, on my darkest nights. She was like a drug I couldn't get enough of - I was addicted to her. And it was the best type of addiction to have.

"You can see all of Melbourne from here," she spoke with the awe of a child, and I wondered why no one had ever taken her here, to the highest viewpoint in Melbourne. "The view is so pretty."

"It sure is," I murmured while keeping my eyes on her. Eventually she turned towards me with an incredulous expression.

"What are you looking at me for? Look at the city!" she pointed towards the windows, but I just smiled.

"I'd rather look at you."

I think Mariam was well adapted to my usual smooth remarks for she just chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. "You paid thirty dollars just to look at me?" she joked.

I slipped my arms around her waist and rested my chin on her shoulder. "You, my dear, are priceless."

"Oh, please."

"Don't you mean thank you?" I teased, and Mariam turned to me over her shoulder with an amused grin, our noses just centimetres apart.

"You're never going to stop, are you?"

"Stop loving you? Never," I grinned, kissing the tip of her nose. "However, stopping these flirtatious comments would've been easier if you weren't so..."

"So what?" Mariam asked after a pause where I just stared at the clouds that hung low in the sky.

"I'm still a rockstar," I sung. "I got my rock moves and I don't need you – oh, wait, that's a lie."

"Yeah, you're no rockstar," Mariam giggled.

"Stop crushing my dreams, Mariam!" I pretended to sound upset, when really I was the opposite. "I can be a rockstar if I wanted to."

"Or a stonestar," Mariam suggested. "Or even a pebblestar."

I laughed. "You amuse me."

"And you confuse me," Mariam retorted.

"Well, excuse me."

"You're excused," Mariam deadpanned. "Now can we have lunch? I'm starving."

I smiled. "You read my mind."

We had lunch in the Eureka Skydeck dining room, and then we set off on our next destination, and this time I let Mariam lead the way.

But as soon as we arrived, I felt a lump in my throat.

"Mariam..."

She turned to me after cutting the engine, a look of innocent excitement on her face that slowly faded when she saw my expression. "It reminds you of her," she simply stated, once again reading my mind.

I nodded, swallowing the lump and looking out the windshield. It was such a calm, overcast day, the waves crashing against the golden sand, worshipping the land. How many times had I brought Mum here, to give her a taste of happiness, a drop of joy? Enough to make me look at the sea and think of her.

I was perfectly fine at our honeymoon, because it was a foreign beach in a different place, and it was a great escape. Here, everything was painfully familiar, and there was no escaping the bittersweet memories.

"Look, I know it's hard, trust me, I know," Mariam said sincerely. "But you can't avoid it forever."

"I can," I interjected.

Mariam's expression softened. "You can. But you don't have to."

I let out a stream of air that I hadn't realised I was holding. I could smell the salty air through the closed windows, picture the light in her eyes when she saw the ocean. She loved it, because it was like a love story, between the water and the land. The tides would leave gifts for the land, and each time the two would get closer and closer, but they couldn't get too close, or else they would cause damage to the things around them, so it was a toxic relationship, a forbidden love. But my mum loved it nonetheless.

"There's nothing wrong with remembering her," Mariam murmured, making my eyes snap back to her. I noticed her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and I had an urge to make them disappear. I didn't like seeing others cry, neither did I like crying myself. Which was why I tried to avoid it. But maybe it was time I stopped avoiding and starting facing things again.

"No, there isn't," I agreed. "So let's go."

The sand was soft under our feet, and though it wasn't your typical beach day, it was still perfect. I rolled up my jeans and let the waves come to me, closing my eyes and listening to that whooshing sound, remembering...

"Hey, what was that for?"

Mariam had a cheeky grin on her face after splashing me with water, and I arched an eyebrow, saying, "Oh, it's going to be like that, now, is it? Well, you ain't seen nothing yet, Mariam!"

Behold the most cliché scene in a romance movie ever involving a ruthless water war, but nothing we did felt cliché, because that would be putting a label on something that was special, and doing that wouldn't make it special, now, would it?

So I forgot to remember the past, since right now, the future looked promising, and not just because Mariam was in it, but because Allah had planned it already for us. Whatever happened, whatever obstacles we'd face, and trials we'd come across, all we could do was pray that everything would work out, In Sha Allah.

And if it didn't, well, at least I knew what it was like to be happy, even for just a moment.