Chapter Four

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Chapter Four

All praise and thanks are only for Allah in all circumstances.

She was grateful for her parents, who never pushed her to accept or reject a proposal. She was grateful for her brothers and sister-in-law, who never made her feel unloved. She was grateful for her friends, who supported her through her rights, and corrected her in her wrongs. She had a lot to be grateful for, and she liked reminding herself of all those blessings when she felt otherwise.

"Alhumdlillah for my limbs that help me move independently, alhumdulillah for a stomach that digests all foods, alhumdulillah for eyes that see beauty and read, alhumdulillah for lips that recite praises of Allah, alhamdulillah for this train and the entire transportation network that takes me to work, alhumdulillah for–"

"Lady, we don't need to hear your inner monologue," someone in the train car barked.

Shasmeen pursed her lips, switching to thinking in her head. Alhumdulillah for a stable career, alhumdulillah for the opportunity to be a means of mercy to children, alhumdulillah for being helpful to humanity, alhumdulillah for...

She went on and on in her head as she exited the station and walked the two blocks to the largest hospital in the metropolitan area. Twenty one stories tall with blue reflective glass windows and glorious fountains in the front, Shasmeen felt deep gratitude in her heart simply gazing at it.

After she had graduated and gotten her license, it had taken several months of applying, interviewing, getting rejections, doubting herself before she got one fateful call to come and interview in the public hospital.

"It's going to be nothing like your internship." She had been told. "You'll be on your own, the patients will be looking to you for help."

Sheltered, adored, and somewhat spoiled, Shasmeen had nodded her head and plunged into the long process of medical exams, vaccinations, background checks and another round of interviews, before hesitantly starting the job.

It had been terrifying, but it was worth it.

Entering through the 'staff only' double doors, she cheerfully called out, "Good morning, Roshni," to one of the first people she had been introduced to at the hospital.

"Hey," Roshni replied, quickly averting her gaze as she tucked away her badge and darted off towards the nurses' station.

Shasmeen swiped her own tag on the clock-in machine, watching Roshni's navy blue scrub pants sashing away.

There was a time when those same navy scrubs would be making their way towards her. Not anymore though. Not since the fight.

Sighing to herself, Shasmeen pulled her binders closer to her body, silently hoping that Abeer would text her or call her soon.

She missed her best friend.

Abeer's text didn't come until Shasmeen was walking out of a meeting later that afternoon.

Assalamualaikum wr wb

So...when's the wedding?

A deep sigh left Shasmeen's throat. Where would she begin with what had happened?

She shot off a text asking if they could have a call instead.

Five mins.

Leaning against the window in the lunchroom, Shasmeen waited for Abeer to become available.

In their beautiful friendship, where she was the salt, Abeer was the spice, where she was the hot head, Abeer was the calm cucumber, where she was the Mama's baby, Abeer was the Mama, where she was the single pringle going through rishtas one after the other, Abeer was the married-for-a-decade mother of two. Their friendship had changed many shades since they became friends in junior year of high school. Responsibilities and work and family often defined those changes, but even in the very narrow window they had for each other in a day, Shasmeen was grateful they were still friends.

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