Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 19 - Granola & Apples

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

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Dawud's P.O.V

'You're okay.' I said to myself, pacing back and forth. It was day two without her. The kitchen seemed darker than usual. Was the light always this dim? I took a deep breath and exhaled as my heart rate doubled by the minute. Jannah, where were you? I had called my mother a few minutes ago and was sent straight to voicemail. Ya Allah, what was I going to do?

I walked over to the living room and looked out the large window. It was five in the afternoon on a Sunday. The streets were pretty empty, with the exception of a few cars here and there. If my wife was here she would have blown against the cold glass, fogging it up. Dawud, she would whisper to herself, tracing my name in Arabic with her fingers. I touched the glass with my hand, stretching my fingers to fully embrace the cold temperature. I missed her more than I could possibly explain.

She left for a reason. Jannah was a wise woman. Much wiser than I thought. I was now starting to understand the reason behind her departure. Her letter helped loads, too. It all hurt. Coming to terms with the truth wasn't easy. But I had to start somewhere.

I grabbed my car keys, my coat, and Jannah's letter. I rushed to the car much quicker than I could handle, resulting in the use of my inhaler once I reached my vehicle. I got in and drove to the place I tried so desperately to avoid. The roads were unbearable quiet. Silent. Not even the sound of pedestrians chatting filled the air. It seemed like the world lost all noise, forcing me to hear nothing but my thoughts.

I pulled into the driveway and closed my eyes. The last bit of encouragement I needed was in the letter. I had to read it again. I needed to. As I reached for my pocket, I braced myself for its brutal honesty. It was out of love, I reminded myself. I spread it over my steering wheel and pressed down to get rid of the creases. And then I read it. After some time, my eyes fell upon the last few words, blurring as the salty liquid of my tears took up my vision. It gave me the courage I needed to step out of my car, walk up the steps and knock on the familiar blue door I knew so well.

Warsan's P.O.V

'Give me a sec, Muna. I'm going to put in my earphones to hear you better, okay?' I said nervously. I put in my apple headphones and pulled the microphone closer to my mouth. 'Okay, I'm here.'

Muna took a deep breath on the other line. 'I don't know why I have a bad feeling about all of this.' She admitted.

I pushed the metal shopping cart in front of me down the dairy aisle, eyeing the almond milk sitting behind the glass window. After some contemplation, I grabbed two cartons. 'Muna, should I tell you what I think?' I asked her. She encouraged me to continue. 'Now, I'm just going to be blunt with you, alright? I have to be honest.'

'Go off, sis. Tell me like it is.' She insisted. We laughed a bit.

'Okay, so this is how the situation looks like to me... and I'm someone who has been working at the hospital all week, away from everyone, so I'm coming to the issue with a clear perspective.' I paused, grabbing some granola off the store shelf. I scanned the ingredients before placing it next to the almond milk. 'Dawud and Jannah have known each other for almost a year now. They met one another last December, right? After tomorrow it's going to be November. They've been married for, I don't know... like nine months? I'm mentioning this because we need to remember our place, Muna. Sure, we're Jannah's best friends, and we love her to death. But at the same time, Dawud loves her too. And he really loves her. They're married and so we need to take a step back and let them handle their business. There is a reason Jannah didn't run to either of us and there is a reason why Dawud didn't tell Akhlaaq anything. They're trying to handle the situation between themselves. Maybe, Bi'ithnillah (By the Permission of Allah), their relationship will grow into an even closer bond after this event.' I concluded. Muna was soundless as she thought about the matter. I took this time to focus on what else I needed from my grocery list. 'Apples!' I exclaimed, snapping my fingers and turning the cart around.

'You're right, Warsan. That's the bitter truth I needed to hear. May Allah reward you. You've rid me of my worries.' She said. I could hear the smile from her lips. After some time she spoke up again. 'Apples?' Muna repeated. I laughed, making a left turn.

I blinked a couple of times, in shock of course. This couldn't be real. Uthman... again? He looked up and smiled, with shyness as clear as day on his face. The tan skin of his cheeks grew crimson by the second. 'Assalamu'Alaykum' He said, holding up a pineapple.

'I gotta go.' I whispered into my mic before ending the call. 'Wa alaykum Salam.' I said professionally. My hands were shaking, so I gripped the cart's handlebar tightly. Why was I nervous? I don't know if it was my friend's teasing or the fact that he looked shockingly adorable in his oversized hoodie, but my stomach was doing backflips. Uthman was dressed differently than usual. Instead of a thobe paired with sandals and grey cotton socks, he was wearing a black hoodie and sweats. He must've been in his pajamas or something. I peeled my eyes off his clothes, remembering to lower my gaze. But as he stood there awkwardly, I caught the way his arm brace was being used to carry a heavy bag of frozen shrimp. 'You shouldn't do that, you know. You shouldn't put added pressure on a healing fracture.' I reminded him.

He smiled with gratitude and cradled the bag in his free arm instead. I took this as my incentive to keep on walking. As I passed him, something inside me told me to turn around... but why would I look back? This wasn't a dramatic scene from a rom-com where the two lovers were destined to never cross paths again. I'd run into him again eventually, right?

I decided to turn around and watched as he went on with his day, carrying the weighty items down the aisle, unbothered and definitely not thinking about me. With a sigh, I carried on with my life as well, tossing red apples into a plastic bag. Why did I turn around? It's not like he meant anything to me!

C'mon Warsan... this isn't you. Get yourself together girl.