Chapter 44:

For the first time in my life, I didn't think about anything. I didn't care about the aftermath, I just did what my heart told me to. I hugged her like my life depended on it cos it does, it damn does. She didn't push me away nor hug me back, even when I drew her closer closing the distance between our hearts.

Maybe I spoke too soon.

She pushes me away and glare. "What is wrong with you? Don't ever touch me!"

"I love you, that's what's freaking wrong with me. I made an awful mistake letting you go and I had be damned if I let that happen again! I was nothing in life, a rich man with no purpose. But you made me something, you kept coming back to me even when I pushed you away. I was trash, I'm still trash and I'll always be trash if you don't let me in. Let me prove to you how much meaningful and colourful you made my life. In all the twenty seven years of my life, I've never felt this feelings for any person other than you. I'm completely in love with you and I know it's cheesy but I can't imagine a life without you. I admit all my faults, I don't care if you do anything to me but please don't shut me out."

Her glare loosens which is replaced by a flat look. "We can't. Wounds don't heal overnight. Feelings don't grow over night Omar."

I step closer till we're few inches apart. "But they do heal in Wakanda, just imagine that I'm your Wakanda." I weakly smile which earns me a little chuckle from her. "Neither do feelings stop overnight. Maybe we could rewrite the stars?" I ask hopefully.

"We can't. I loved you, now I don't think I do." She replies retreating backwards.

"Then why did you kiss me back, why did grab my hair and drew me closer? Because you do, I know you're scared I would hurt you again. But I changed and you're responsible for my change. I'm begging you to give me one last chance. The moment you suspect that I'm hurting you or I'm going to hurt you, you're free to tell me to leave your life and I would walk away." But I know that I'm never going to let her go, love isn't me letting her go, it's us fighting the war together and surviving it like damn warriors.

"I need time to think about it." She walks away to her room.

I was a second away from silencing him with a hug and accepting him. I want to tell him that we're good and I love him because I know I still do but I can't. I can't be naive again. A part of me wants to believe him, his words sounded genuine and honest. I'm scared he would once again play me like some toy and hurt me till I can't cry no more.

That was the fault in my heart, it loves him so much. If I want to succeed however, I would have to switch off my heart and use my brain. Unluckily, it's slowly falling for his charms too. The adhan withdraws me from my thoughts. I perform ablution and spread my prayer mat to pray.

I leave my room to make dinner, a simple meal of rice and tomato sauce. On my way back, I stop and groan. Should I take some to him? Maybe just once, this time and that's it. I dish out some rice and sauce in a plate and set everything on a tray before proceeding to his room.

I knock on the door but he doesn't reply. I keep knocking till I get tired and open the door.

My heart sinks and my eyes bulge out in fear as I stare at Omar who seems confused, eyes bulged, staring ahead, up at nothing. His hand suddenly lurches ferociously to his heart, clutching his white shirt in obvious pain. All of a sudden, his legs start shaking as he makes heavy breaking noises deep from his throat.

His eyes shifts to me in help as I stood paralyzed watching as he starts jerking, mouth stretched while he hits his chest rapidly. His chest rises inches into the air and suddenly drops as he stiffens. He looks like he's unable to breath for a moment, his hands fall to his sides in a loud thud. The moment he breathes hardly, he strangely turns blue.

In a flash, I drop the tray on the floor and move quickly to him on the floor, using all my might to tear open his shirt. He's not breathing. His heart in pounding and struggling for oxygen savagely. His face, lifeless and blue. I contemplate on breathing into his mouth. But proceed to press my hands down on his chest. He doesn't respond after I wait so I do it again and again. Is he going to die like this? I ask myself panickly as I keep pressing, hearing the air whoosh. I lost track of the times I press his chest. Placing my head on his chest once more, a rain of relief washes over me when his heart starts pumping, his once blue face is now pale as he inhales and exhales roughly through the nose. His head lays on my laps as I pull him further on my body as sweat dampens his clothes. His eyes stares blankly at me.

"Thank you." He mutters softly before his eyes shuts. I reach for my phone in my pocket and call 911.

"My husband just had a seizure." I say, panick evidently dripping from my voice.

"Did he fall or hit any hard surface?" A woman's voice asks gently.

"I don't know, he was on the floor when I came in."

"Keep still till we come."

I nod as if they could see me and give them the address.

"Thank you." I cut the call and stare at my husband, I wipe the hair from his wet face and peck his forehead. In the months I stayed with Omar, I had never seen him behave this way. Is Omar epileptic? He never told me about this.

A while after, Omar is taken to the hospital. I called Adam and Yousuf, Adam didn't look as scared as Yousuf and I. Yousuf kept pacing to and fro. Later, the doctor steps in and Yousuf asks for an audience with him. My attention shifts to Omar and back to Adam. "Do you know anything about this?"

His eyes meet mine as he nods. "It started some weeks ago, he was at work, he looked paper

white and sick that I advised him to go home but he refused. Out of nowhere, he started jerking. It was the scariest thing that had ever freaked me out."

"I never knew he was epileptic."

"He's not."

Yousuf comes in to fill us in on his talk with the doctor. "He said it's a non epileptic seizure caused by emotional stress, fear and insomnia. Perhaps a terrible event happened which triggered the seizure."

My mind goes blank and my heart breaks in grief and guilt. All along I was blaming Omar for what happened me, little did I know that he was going through his fair share of torture, maybe worse. I blamed him repeatedly for the death of our unborn child. That must have been hard on him, everything was hard on him. I can't help but think that he didn't tell me because he didn't want to see me worried. It's my fault he's this way. Why didn't I just listen to Aliyah's advice on letting things go. If only I wasn't so stubborn and stupidly selfish. This is my fault.

"Aisha?" Adam's voice calls making my eyes go to his. I follow his gaze which lands on Omar. I rush to his side, suppressing the urge to hug him. "How're you feeling?" I ask, my eyes glowing with joy.

"Alhamdulillah, I'm good. Thanks a lot. I'm sorry I freaked you out."

"Yeah you ought to be." I glare playfully and smile deeply when he laughs softly.

"I'm sorry." I take his hand in mine.

"For?"

"Being a bitch."

He gives my hand a little squeeze. "Someone told me to never apologize for who you're."

"Ouch! That hurts." I let out a laugh. "Seriously though, I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

I peck him on the forehead again and leave the three of them to talk. I exit the room to get food. When I return, they announce their leave and promise to come back tomorrow morning before he gets discharged as the doctor said.

"Fries?" I ask Omar who's still laying awake. "Yeah."

I take my chair closer to him and feed him. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"I didn't want to make you worried."

It makes tears come to my eyes as I blink quickly. "Don't cry, Shh. How did you even know what to do?"

I swallow the fries in my mouth and give him some. "Dad was epileptic, he had multiple seizures. It had to do with his PTSD."

I yawn and glance at the clock. 9:13pm. "I think you should sleep." He says, accessing me worriedly.

"I'm not feeling sleepy. You're unwell, you should sleep."

"Ok we should."

I nod and arch my head further into the uncomfortable chair, wrapping my arms around my chest.

"Come up here." Omar says, shifting to the left in order to create more space. "No, you should relax. Also, I won't fit."

"You will." He taps the space beside him, his brows furrowing in concern.

"I'm comfortable." I smile, pretending to look as comfortable as I can.

"Yeah right, it's obvious your neck is aching. Now get up here or I go down."

I rise from the chair towards him, knowing him, he would most likely do what he said. He smiles brightly as I lay next to him, placing my head on his shoulder. If he was uncomfortable, he didn't say. "Is this even allowed?"

"Who cares? Now hush and go to sleep."

"I'm at fault right?" I ask again, swallowing the lump that formed in my throat."

"Stop blaming yourself, it's not your fault okay? Do you know how much I missed you, your royal chubbiness? I missed doing this." He kisses the top of my head. I laugh at his words. I know he's trying to change the topic, I let him do so.

"I love you so much." He breathes into my headscarf. I secretly smile and say the seven words I didn't think I had say ever again.

"I love you Omar Malik, a lot.