WINNER OF HEART♡

◇part 3◇

She didn't respond initially, then she looked over her right shoulder, said something, and repeated the gesture on her left shoulder. Finally, she looked directly at me, wiped her tears, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Why are you crying, my love?" I asked, my heart aching for her. Her eyes welled up again as she looked down and replied, "It's between me and my Allah; I can't tell you."

I gazed deeply into her brown eyes, wishing I could comfort her, hold her. But I was helpless. I said, "My precious love, your Ramin is helpless. I can't even wipe your tears. My Janan, don't make my heart suffer like this. I can't bear to see tears in your eyes; it breaks my heart, love."

                              . . .

                      Janan's POV:

I fought back my tears, his words making me weak. "Ya Allah, I'm already so in love with him; please help me."

I looked at him and said, "Ramin, you say you love me, right? Then please don't ask me why I cried."

"My princess, I won't ask, but please don't cry again," Ramin said. I nodded in agreement.

"Janan, tell me, what is a na mahram?" Ramin asked.

I chuckled softly and explained, "A na mahram is the opposite of a mahram. In Islam, a mahram is a family member with whom marriage would be considered haram (forbidden), excluding the husband. With a mahram, the concealment of the body with hijab is not obligatory, and if he is an adult male, he may escort a woman during a journey. Muslim women must observe hijab in front of na mahram men, as I do in front of you because you are a na mahram to me. I can't touch you because it is not permissible."

He stared at me fondly and asked, "How can I become your mahram?"

I took a deep breath and replied, "For that, you'd have to marry me."

He smiled brightly and said, "Then let's get married."

"Ramin, it's not that simple. You're a non-Muslim, and I am not allowed to marry a non-Muslim," I explained.

Ramin sighed and asked, "Will you wait for me, love, until I find the true path?"

I smiled and nodded. He kissed his hands and sent me a flying kiss. I quickly looked away, muttering, "Astaghfirullah."

He chuckled, "I'm going home now. I'll miss you a lot."

I waved and said, "Bye-bye, Mr. Moron." He chuckled and left, taking one last glance at me before whispering, "I love you."

I placed a hand on my stomach, feeling an unfamiliar sensation. "What is this feeling? I've never felt this before. Is this what they call butterflies in the stomach?" My cheeks burned as I softly touched them. "Raminah, what have you done to me?"

As I was leaving the hospital, someone called my name. I turned to see Rahil approaching. He kept a respectful distance and said, "Janan, please forgive me. I can't carry this burden on my heart anymore."

I looked at him and said, "Rahil, you're a Muslim. You know very well what is haram and halal, yet you still did this. Why?"

Staring at the ground, he replied, "Shaitan trapped me, Janan. I don't know if you'll believe me, but it wasn't in my control. I fell for you, Janan." His words froze me in place.

"For the sake of Allah, I forgive you," I said and left.

On the bus, Rahil's words haunted me. I feared what Ramin would do if he ever found out. I gazed out of the window, looking at the sky. "Ya Allah, if anyone prays for me, grant them someone better so they'll forget about me."