"That was Amal. The same Amal..."

"Yes the same one." I interjected and spoke.

"She seems nice." Mariam spoke and smirked. Knowing her I know she only thought of one thing.

"Thanks for bringing Manayer. The surgery went on longer than we anticipated." I explained.

"I understand Naveed."

"How is Fayid?" I asked, and searched her eyes for something to give away her happiness. That's all I have ever wanted for her, to be happy and satisfied.

"Fayid is well." She replied. "How are you?"

"I am great." I answered.

"I am pregnant Naveed," she said unexpectedly, her facial expression shifted showing excitement and concern. Concern towards my reactions, most likely.

"Congratulations Mariam. I am happy for you, really I am. You've always wanted Manayer to have a sibling. You thought it would be good for her, she'll be less spoilt. You should know as her father, I am always going to spoil her."

"I don't expect anything less from you. And thank you. I have to go now, I'll see you on Sunday."

"Yes, you're welcome. Take care." I told her. She hugged Manayer, said their goodbyes and left. I took Manayer to the daycare center at the hospital, my shift ends later in the evening.

Mariam is my ex-wife, we got divorced a couple of years ago. We met through mutual friends and we instantly connected and understood each other. We got married, had Manayer and got separated three years after we got married. I failed to be there for her, and I regret not doing so but everything happens for a reason - she's happy now. So everything we went through wasn't all for nothing.

...

Anisa was discharged from the hospital, three days after her waking up from the coma. She's doing well in physiotherapy. She sees her sessions as practice on learning to walk again. I don't think she enjoys it as much, but it is for her benefit. So she fights through the pain.

"Girls!" Aunty Hudaa walks in the guest bedroom where Anisa and I sleep. We both look at her, giving her all our attention. "Jamal is coming home today, along with his father." She squealed with excitement. My heart drops at the thought of it. Anisa smiles, the radiance and excitement coming off Aunty Hudaa are truly pure and endearing.

"That's great news," Anisa says.

"Hah yah." I reply, trying to conceal my distress. Just the thought of seeing him again, made me feel unsettled. I wasn't ready to see him.

"I am going to make dinner," She announced.

"I'll help auntie." Anisa said.

"That's very nice of you Anisa. But you need to rest, I don't want you to rush your healing process."

"I'll help her Anisa. Don't worry." I said and got out of the bed, where I was siting next to Anisa.

"I don't like just sitting here and doing nothing. Let me help at least with the cutting, I'll be sitting." She insisted.

"Okay habibty. Amal help your sister to the kitchen, I am going to call Jamal and confirm the time he's coming."

"Yes auntie." I replied. And did what she instructed and helped Anisa out of bed. She put her arm around my neck for support and I helped her walk, as she slowly walked all her weight on my shoulder. We got to the kitchen, I helped her sit down on the chair.

"I need a new phone." She said.

"I'll get you one. I can order one online." I replied. "Anything else?" I asked.

"Yes my clothes. You're clothes are nice, but it's not my style." She said and chuckled.

"Yah yah, your suitcase is still at the house." I told her. "We can shop for new ones."

"Yeah we can. But I also want to go home, and see it."

"We can go next week."

"Okay." She replied. "Who stays at the house?"

"No one. The house is still furnished, exactly how mum decorated it. Everything is the same. As far as I know, the house is cleaned every week or month, and is kept in a good condition."

"Does dad talk about mum?" She asked.

"Not since the accident. I think he's still in denial." I said.

"She was the love of his life..."

"I know. I think I still am in denial as well, subconsciously. I still expect mum to walk into my life. It's like she traveled and any time soon she will return and when I think about the reality that she will never come back, it makes me feel deeply sad."

"When I was in the coma, I used to dream about her sometimes. Now knowing that she's not here anymore, it's hard..." I hugged briefly.

"It is." I said and let go.

"Jamal is coming." She said.

"Yap." I told her. "I always thought you guys would be end game."

"No way." I said, in a grave tone. "I mean he's not my type."

"I have been asleep for four years. Excuse me if I didn't know my sister now has a "type"." She said and smiled.

Auntie Hudaa walks, holding a book: " Jamal is arriving at 9:00 and his father at midnight. I can't decide what to make." She says, placing the her own recipe book on the kitchen counter.

"How about spicy chicken wings." Anisa suggested.

"Clearly someone is craving her favorite food." I said.

"Hah we can make that as well." We talked for about ten minutes, discussing on the foods to make from the starters to dessert and everyone was assigned a role. Mine was mostly to do with dessert, I am making chocolate fudge cake, fruit salad and the spicy chicken wings. Even though I can't stand spicy food, but I'll make it for my sister. And auntie Hudaa is making all other meals, the curry and rice. Anisa will be helping me and also making the salad. It was nice to have my sister around, it made realize how blessed and lucky I am to have her back in my life. It's usually been said that nobody knows the true value of something until it's gone.

I think for me, I have always known their value I just didn't think I would lose them.

...

After cooking and setting up the table. We all decided to freshen up before drinker, even though the cooking had made us weary. But once we had a shower and changed into different outfits - we looked far from tired. But I think we all felt it though, even if we didn't look it.

Anisa was in the bedroom resting, she did a lot today, her body hasn't yet accustomed to the moving around a lot. The doctor said it will take some time, a month perhaps to get back to her normal self. Auntie Hudaa was still getting ready, I sat in the living room watching television. Just to keep myself occupied, mostly my mind. I haven't yet mentally prepared myself for seeing Jamal again. What am I to say? How do act "okay"when the person we lied and betrayed me is standing in front me. I'd have to be a good damn actor to be oblivious at the known.

The door bell rang. I headed towards the front and door and gathered myself, my feelings, my thoughts and put them on the side. Auntie Hudaa deserves one night with her son, where everything is okay and pleasant. I opened the door, and looked at the man who stood in front of me. Watched him as his eyes widened and lips slowly parting, it was like he had seen a ghost - the color from his face was fading and I am sure he wasn't breathing for one moment. "Jamal!" Auntie Hudaa yelled coming down the stairs, I turned to look at her and watched her as she hurriedly walked towards her son.

She hugged him tight, Jamal's inquisitive eyes were still on me. I walked away, back to the living not wanting to do or say anything I would regret. My heart escalated, at the points in time where I was falling for him, the time I trusted him and regarded him as someone honest and a friend. Look at where my trust got me. My head jolted back when I heard Auntie Hudaa, speaking, sounding rather distressed and upset. Her tone was higher than usual.

"Jamal tell me did not actually get married without your parents presence. Do we mean nothing to you?"

"Mama don't say it like that. We just made it official we didn't do anything big, just officiated it. A small nikkah." He explained, trying to convince his mother otherwise. But nothing he can truly could ever make Auntie Hudaa feel better, she's a sensitive woman.

"You come here and accept me to welcome you with open arms? After what you did. What do I tell your father when he comes home? That his only son, only child, has already married and he was not there to witness it?" She said, looking into his eyes. I could hear her voice break. She walked away from him. He followed her, but before he did he welcomed in a woman inside. She looked meek but amiable, her facial expression showing discomfort. She wore a black abaya, with a black scarf, yet her fringes still managed to escape. But you couldn't tell if it was on purpose or just unmannered. She held onto her bag. I stood afar observing, not knowing what to do.

"Mum please just hear me out. I know what I did was not standard and it was not ideal. We needed to get married and I'll explain the reason to you if you let me. We didn't have a big wedding, we wanted you to plan it. You mum." He expressed himself - stoic yet you could sense the desperation in his tone.

"You're not my son. You can't, my Jamal would have never done this to his parents. Went behind my back as if I am some sort of villain. You don't even tell me, let alone request for my attendance. Am I really that unapproachable? Did you think you couldn't tell me because I am not understanding?" He remained silent, unable to even look his mothers in her eyes because tears were flowing from her eyes and it broke me to see her in that state. To see her so cheerless and somber, as all she ever gave and showed was love and hope.

"I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry mum. I'll say it a hundred times, please stop crying. Please. I'll talk to dad. Once I tell you the reason it will all make sense." He finally spoke, and held his mothers shoulders, kissed her on the forehead and hugged her.

"I am sorry mum." He said, repeatedly till she finally stopped crying. He let go of her, and she walked away, climbing the stairs like she had no energy left in her. Her heart heavy from the news her son gave her. It was like betrayal, all so familiar yet discrete.

"Don't follow me. I am going to freshen up. Please wait for me downstairs." Auntie Hudaa said, still climbing the stairs her voice so frail yet audible enough to order her son not to follow her. Jamal listened to his mother. He walked towards his wife and hugged her. I finally got the courage to walk away, knowing if I stayed any longer I would start crying.

"Amal." He called my name as I made my way to the guest bedroom. I didn't look back, I didn't and I couldn't. Because he... he... I quickly opened the door and closed it. Finally my tears escape as if were imprisoned, running down my cheeks wild and free. Anisa still soundly asleep, I covered my mouth with my hand - holding my back my sobs. I went to the washroom, washed my face repeatedly, until my tears and the water could not be distinguished. My eyes fiery and swollen. What's the remedy for heart ache? What's the remedy for pain for loss, for hurting? Ya Allah please give my heart patience and strength to go through this trial. Ya Allah please, please...