The difference she made!

A final farewell (2)

Rain lashed against the cobblestones of the London street, mirroring the torrent of emotions swirling within Fajr. The taxi, engine idling impatiently, awaited at the curb, its yellow glow a stark contrast to the somber gray sky. Khalid was speaking to the driver, wearing a casual attire, dark denim trousers matched with a navy peacoat draped effortlessly over his broad shoulders. Beneath it, a crisp white Oxford shirt peeked out, with a black tartan scarf which added a touch of his personal flair. He put the luggage in the trunk while Fajr stood at the doorway, clutching onto Reyhan's hand like a lifeline. Reyhan wasn't just their housekeeper for more than a decade; she was a loyal friend, a second mother, the backbone of her life in London. She had witnessed her joys and sorrows shared over countless cups of tea and meals prepared with love. Fajr couldn't speak, the lump in her throat refusing to budge.

The rumble of the taxi shattered the silence and Khalid stepped forward. "Reyhan," he said, "I can't thank you enough for what you have been doing for us. I wish we could have you there."

She smiled despite all sadness she was feeling, "I'll make sure to visit you when I perform Hajj in sha Allah."

"We'll be more than glad to host you. You are part of family."

Reyhan's eyes welled up once more. "Oh, you two," she choked out, her voice betrayed her by almost breaking. "I'm going to miss you terribly." Her gaze shifting to Fajr, "Please, take care of her."

"Don't worry. She is in safe hands." Khalid said, his strong arm surrounded Fajr's waist.

Fajr's heart ached. She embraced Reyhan tightly, the rain momentarily forgotten, the warmth of their shared affection pushing back the chill. She burst into tears, a mixture of sadness and gratitude.

Pulling away, Reyhan cupped Fajr's face so she could wipe the tears off her cheeks with her thumbs. "No tears. We'll keep in touch as always." And with one last sad smile, they released each other.

When Khalid and Fajr climbed into the taxi, Fajr turned back to see Reyhan waving, her figure growing smaller in the rain-drenched street.

The journey to the airport was a blur, the drumming of the rain reflecting the steady beat of her heart.

As the plane lifted off, piercing through the clouds, London receded below. Its familiar skyline replaced by the vast expanse of clouds. Memories flooded Fajr's mind; her father's booming laugh echoing through her ears, his patient lessons on Arabic, the shared joy of breaking the Ramadan fast together. Now, all that remained was a gaping hole, a silence she couldn't bear to hear.

She opened her eyes when a soft, gentle touch brought her back to reality. Blinking away some remaining tears, she looked at Khalid who squeezed her hand warmly; "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper above the drone of the engines.

Fajr shook her head, unable to articulate the emotions churning within her. The words felt inadequate, pale shadows of the depth of her loss. She leaned into his shoulder, seeking comfort in his warmth and presence and Khalid chose not to press.

The arrival gate buzzed with the cacophony of voices and the clatter of luggage wheels. Fajr, her eyes red-rimmed and face pale, clutched Khalid's hand tightly.

"See who has come to receive us." Khalid said and Fajr's gaze fell on the familiar figure standing slightly apart, a weathered face etched with love and concern. It was their grandfather. Behind him stood Majed.

"Grandpa!!" she exclaimed.

As they approached, the old man's eyes met Fajr's, and a wave of emotion washed over them both. He didn't need words to understand her pain. He simply looked at her, silently acknowledging the unspoken truth before offering her a hug that held the weight of the world, unspoken grief mingling with warm emotion. Fajr leaned into his embrace, the dam within her threatening to break.