Heartbroken [COMPLETED]

Chapter 1 | Amal

اَعُوْذُ بِاللهِ مِنَ الشَّيْطَانِ الرَّجِيْمِ

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمن الرَّحِيْمِ

Author's Note

Assalaamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakaatu hu everyone!

This is one of the first stories that I wrote and am very happy with the number of reads it has been getting lately.

I recently have started a blog and I would really appreciate it if you could check it out.

www.amuslimgirlsblog.com

Please remember to vote, comment and share! JazakhAllah Khair! 

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The name Amal is an Arabic name. 

It's meaning is hope. My father chose that name for me on the day I was born. 

Apparently I was originally meant to be called Wardah but then last minute my dad decided to change the name. My cousin ended up with the name Wardah instead.

My father always used to say to me that after my mother passed away I was his only hope that he could find happiness again. His hope that I would be able to replace the loss he felt. 

He used to tell me that the first time he ever held me in his arms was a surreal experience, one that he would never forget, that I would never be able to understand the overwhelming sense of wonder, joy and all the responsibilities that come with it until I had a child of my own.

I love my father and I didn't think I would ever be ready to leave him. But I knew that this time would always come.

Tears pricked my fathers eyes as tears flowed out of mine. 

"My beautiful daughter. I never thought this day would come. But it was never going to always be my responsibility to take care of you. I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on you. But now the time has come so soon. I will always love you. Never forget that. And I am sure that Yasir will take even better care of you then I ever did."

This was the hardest day of my life for me. All my life I had never faced any major problems. My father had raised me all alone for the majority of my childhood but always ensured that I was cared for. 

But now knowing that I was going to be somewhere almost 100 miles away from my beloved father made my heart drop.

But this was my father's wish. For me to get married. So I accepted it because I knew whoever my father chose for me would be someone that my father genuinely believed would look after me. 

He kissed me on the forehead and told me to sit in the car whilst he called out Yasir. As my father walked away from me, my step-mother approached me. 

My stepmother and my father had got married when I was 10. It was a difficult time for me to adjust to having a new parent but I had never known my birth mother so I guess that had made it easier for me. It was only when I was nearing the end of my teen years did I really realise and appreciate all that was given to me. Let's just say I was a spoilt brat. You know those kids that were really sweet but at the same time they were given everything on a plate and were kind of stuck-up. Well that was me...

She has always been so loving and kind to me. But also scolded me and had a go at me just like any mother would to their child. I knew people who weren't fond of their step-parents so I was glad that Allah (سبحانه وتعلي) had blessed me with one that adored me. Even if I didn't necessarily deserve it at times. 

I didn't know Yasir.

But my father said he came from a good family. He was educated. He was on the deen. And well according to Wardah very handsome as well. 

She had asked her brother to take a picture of him, without him noticing obviously, and Umar did. But I didn't really want to look at it. I didn't want anyone to think that I was so shallow to judge someone on merely their looks. But now I seriously regretted it and I was scared. 

I know that sounds really arrogant of me. I mean I wasn't exactly Katrina Kaif here but the idea of me having to spend the rest of my life with someone I didn't even remotely find attractive, well it wasn't appealing. 

That was the least of my worries though. I didn't even know him. I was merely going off of what my family members had told me about him. And then there was the fact that I was leaving my father and step-mother. And to top it all off I was going to be living all alone in a city I didn't know with a stranger I had no idea how he would treat me. This was an experience that I didn't think I'd ever be ready for. 

I still hadn't laid eyes on my now-husband. And we had been married for approximately three hours. 

Yes, I was counting. 

The nikkah had been a simple affair with only close family and friends invited. It was also the first time I had met my in-laws. They seemed like nice people but they would never ever be able to replace my father. Or the mother I had grown to love.  

My heartbeat increased as I heard the car door open. 

It was him. And I heard his voice for the first time, 

"Assalaamu alaikum Uncle. Don't worry, I will take good care of your angel." 

The car door slammed shut and it was just us. I could have sworn my heart stopped. He started the engine without saying anything. I turned back to look back at my father and my mother standing there watching me. He coughed and spoke, 

"Assalaamu alaikum Amal." I froze. I didn't know what to say. 

Should I reply? Well yes probably. I really was an idiot. I mumbled a reply but still refused to look at him. I wanted to but eye contact wasn't really my thing.

"You look beautiful by the way." I didn't know what to say. I felt so awkward. This was not how it was supposed to be. I should say something. But I didn't know what. He must have sensed my inability to act like a sane human so he continues speaking,

"How about we play a game? I mean we have a long journey ahead of us." I had no clue what exactly his plan was but you know he seemed to be trying. 

"So this is the game I ask a question and you have to answer it with regards to what you think the answer may be if I were to answer it." I mumbled an incoherent reply that even my brain couldn't comprehend what I said. I was such a big idiot. I noticed him glance at me with a weird look and then he continued speaking,

"Okay I shall start easy. How many siblings do I have?" 

"You have four sisters." Wow. I actually managed to form a sentence. I was proud of myself. It was one of the few questions I had asked my father. I had only met three of them though. The other lived in America and because the nikkah had been decided on such short notice she didn't have time to fly over. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him smile, 

"Yeah. That's correct. Your turn." I didn't really know what sort of question I should ask. 

"Okay what did I study at university?" He laughed,

"Easy, you studied English literature." Oh he did know. This was such a strange way to get to know someone. But it was working. I was starting to feel more comfortable. 

"My turn again. What is my job?" Oh great, I had no idea. All I knew was that he had one.

"Umm...you work in a office." 

"What is my job title?" He feigned disappointment,

"Wow, I took so much time to learn about my future wife but she didn't even bother to learn about my job," he tutted.

I turned to look at him for the first time. 

He was smiling. And there was something about the way he smiled at me. It made me feel as if he and I were the only people in the world. 

And in that moment I knew I could grow to love him. My father's choice had been perfect and I was so glad I had accepted it.