Call Out My Name

Faith

A/N: Spicy scene in this chapter! Nothing in details however I still want to make sure you're all aware. Also, thank you for the immense love and support you guys keep me going and I truly appreciate it. Love you all💓

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Isha's POV.

"Let's do something together" I told him as we got home.

"Something that will lead us both to the bed and under the sheets?" Filthy mouth.

"No not that. Something spiritual." I said.

"Tell me how do I have a feeling I already know what you're going to say next?" Because he knows me well.

"Let's pray together" I suggested.

He sighed and looked away.

"What?" I asked not understanding his reaction.

"It's just...look I understand your point of view but I...it's just so hard to believe that Allah is there for me when he made me lose the people that were the most dearest to me." So that's what he means.

"Ishaan, losing people in life is going to happen to everyone. It happens to everyone. And, I'm not saying that to invalidate your feelings. I'm just saying that it's unpredictable. I lost my mother as well. My actual mother committed suicide. Can you believe that?"

"I...didn't know she had died by suicide" he felt bad for me. I could see it in his eyes

"I could start hating Allah and blaming him for that. I could hold a grudge and believe he doesn't exist because he took away the woman who gave me birth right?" I'm trying to make him understand my point.

"That's not...it's not fair. For me and for you."

"And for a thousand other people in this world. Do you know how much energy it takes to hold a grudge?" I asked him.

"So I just love Allah for the pain he caused me?"

"You love allah when you're in pain. You love Allah when you're happy. You love Allah when you have nothing. You love Allah when you have everything. I'm not going to force you and I'm not going to tell you to do something against your will because that's not what a true Muslim does however I will always remind you that Allah does love you. And, he did not take your parents from you as you were just a little kid out of hatred." I explained.

"It's getting late—let's sleep" I then suggested when I felt him hold onto hand.

"Let's do it. Let's pray together." Is he sure? I don't want to force him.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. I promise I want to. Let's do it." He insisted.

"Okay" I smiled. I know he is in pain. And, I know that it's hard to accept the truth. I might not be able to understand his pain but I just want him to know that Allah is there for him. He must know.

We prayed together and then I suggested we cook something together for diner.

"This is unlike you" he says.

"What?" I don't get it.

"You hate me Isha. I hurt you countless times. Why are you pretending to be okay?" He's right. I do hate him. He put me through hell. He worried my family, threatened them and scared them.

He married me without my will. The list goes on. Despite all that, I have the audacity to believe there's still good in him. I believe his hatred blinded him. I believe he can be better, do better. Despite all that, I can't deny that I do love him.