Together Forever

My Answers.

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"I'm glad you called, alhamdulillah." He said as he placed an arm on the table.

I couldn't look him in the eye. "You've left the house in trackies." I stated.

Zaid never ever left the home in anything but a suit after we had gotten married except for a thawb when he used to go to the masjid.

"I left as soon as you called." He said and I sighed.

There was a few moments of awkward silence that was broken by the waiter who asked Zaid what he wanted to eat or drink. Zaid just asked for a bottle of water and the waiter nodded, leaving the table.

"So," I began slowly, not wanting to engage in small talk. "What do you want to know?" I asked as I leaned forward and took a sip from my coffee.

He scoffed light heartedly and shook his head. "Everything." He answered. "I've missed so much, I know. But I want to know everything I can about them." He told me.

A small smile took over my lips as I thought of where to begin. "Well, they're amazing kids, alhamdulillah. They're well-mannered. They're kind. They're not spoilt. They really didn't have the chance to be spoiled since I didn't have he means to spoil them anyway." I spoke, Zaid visibly cringed and I fixed up my sentence. "I bought them everything they needed. We were comfortable, we just weren't rich. Alhamdulillah." I said and he nodded. "When I tell them off for things, they always listen to..."

He cut me off with yet another question, a small smile now on his lips too, his eyes slightly glossed over. "What do they do to make you tell them off?"

"They sometimes argue about toys. They get jealous for my affection." I smiled and he released a soft chuckle. "They wake each other up at night. They don't eat their food."

"What food's do they like?"

"They eat everything really. They're not picky. Sometimes they switch their cups during breakfast, but generally Hamza prefers apple juice and Hafsa likes orange juice." I said.

He exhaled.

Zaid likes orange juice and I like apple juice.

"They love my mum's shawarma." I said.

He smiled. "Who wouldn't?"

The smile wiped off my face and I cleared my throat. "What else?"

"Do they get along?"

I nodded. "Extremely well. They're basically inseparable."

"What do they like doing?"

"We watch Zaky at night before sleeping..." I realised he raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. "It's this cartoon of a purple bear and he explains stuff about Islam. We usually watch one video a night. Uh, they like playing with their toys. We don't really have time to go out because of my work, but they enjoy going to the park like any kid. Hamza likes action figures. Batman's his favourite, but he loves transformers as well. And Hafsa..."

I looked up at him. He had a content look on his face as he listened to me intently, his eyes still glossed over.

"Hafsa likes cars. Loves cars actually." I said softly, there was no point of lying anyway. I watched the way his eyes lit up and his mouth parted.

"Cars?" He asked me, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded. "Like you." I forced myself to say. Well done, Sumayya. Slow steps. Start accepting that he is in fact their father and they carry just as much of his genes as they do yours.