A Muslim's Romantic Journey

Chapter 71.

Safia's POV

I tried to be nice and wait for an appropriate time to talk to Yusuf about moving back to my parents' house. I waited nearly a week to talk to him. In the end, I just gave up. It was that last day at home which did it. It made me lose my rationality and act on emotions alone which can be very dangerous.

In that last week, Yusuf was less affectionate than before. This made me feel kind of insecure. I couldn't blame him though; he had a lot on his mind. But it seemed most of his attention was now on Adam and Maria, meaning I was receiving less attention. It was understandable and Ididn't blame him but weird thoughts and worries kept plaguing my mind. I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Well, there was a lot wrong with me. My stomach still stuck out, my hair started to fall, my skin had lost its glow and I was getting dark circles. All in all, I felt like I looked ugly and for that reason, I must have been harder to love.

Day by day I was feeling more worthless and useless. I thought I was prepared to become a mother. Ever since my nephew Zidan was a few months old, I was determined I was ready. I knew how to do everything. But it wasn't the 'how to take care of babies' which was the problem. I wasn't prepared for the emotional rollercoaster and the huge responsibility. It occurred to me properly then how spoilt I was before. Not spoilt with material things but spoilt with love. I had no responsibilities and no one depending on me.

I tried to be considerate of Yusuf. I tried to support him through his parents' divorce. But I failed. We were both miserable. Mum came around again while Yusuf was at work and made me make an appointment with a doctor. Then she told me how she had talked with dad and they said I could stay around for a few months. But mum added that dad was refusing to let Yusuf stay because there were already too many people and grown daughters in the house.

"But Amy stays there and she's not Amaan's mahram," I retorted feeling a little outraged with dad's stubbornness. How would I be able to stay with them without Yusuf? I thought that I'd prefer being at home with Yusuf despite the struggle.

"Amaan's only fifteen. There's over seven years of a difference between them. Amaan hasn't even fully grown yet. His beard has only started growing. But Zayna and even Hafsa, who's always around without her hijab, it's not fair on them to have to cover up in their own homes."

"Then you can say it's not fair on Amy to cover up either."

"And that is why Hamza is looking for a place for himself and Amy." I opened my mouth to speak but mum continued. "This is what your dad said. He knows Yusuf is very loyal to you but do you think it would be okay for him to live under the same roof as two other beautiful women?" She meant Zayna and Amy. "Three if you add Hafsa." That's what did it. I had been rejected twice because men preferred Hafsa. Deep down, I knew Yusuf was a loyal man. That wouldn't be a problem. But in that state of unsureness and feeling horrid about myself, I gave in.

Thought I had made my mind up about staying, my resolve broke when I was attempting to shower but couldn't because I heard one of the children's cries. It had been four days since I last showered. It was the last straw.

"Why are you crying?" I asked in disbelief. "I fed you, changed you, put you to sleep. Why?" I know it made no difference for me to talk with them but I hadn't even washed the shampoo out of my hair properly and here I was in a gown staring at the crying child. I finally got time to shower and once I was done, then came the hardest part of my day.

The children were asleep and I was left to my own thoughts. That was driving me insane. I was sure then that I was definitely suffering from depression. I wasn't thinking straight. I knew there were others in much worse situations than me and I knew some wished they were in my shoes. I was young, married and just had two beautiful children. But to me, I was too young to be a mum who was left alone half the day and was going crazy. I felt worthless and I hated my sight in the mirror. I felt like a terrible mother and a terrible wife. I couldn't do anything right. How was I going to cope with these two lives depending on me? Everything sat on my heart heavily and I'd burst into tears numerous times. What made it worse is that I knew I should have been grateful but the imbalance of hormones inside me disagreed.