Halaal Love

Chapter 32

"What? No way! No mom! I'm not going back there until he realizes his mistake!"

"YOU'RE BEING IMMATURE, Habibah! You're being a coward! I don't even know you anymore! Where's the responsible Habibah that I know? What was my teachings for, then?"

"Well, mom I'm sorry that I can't be like you! I'm sorry that I'm not strong at all. I'm sorry that I'm just an immature, selfish, coward! Because I CAN'T HANDLE THIS ANYMORE! I-I'm tired... I just want to stay here..." There it goes. All of my courage. All of my pride, fades away with a single choke, causing all the tears to pour out.

Then, silence accepts us. My mom's sobs begin to become audible--but not for my sobs. Instead of stopping, I feel haunted by guilts. Images of things that I shouldn't have done appear on my mind.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry..." I choke. My dad inhales deeply, before sighing.

"I must say, I'm disappointed in you, Habibah." I face the floor in shame. "But I must say this too. I'll let you stay here. As long as you want. As what I've heard from your own mouth, I can conclude that it's not your fault. You even dumped the lunch. But Omar is just affected. He's affected way too easily. He shouldn't have told you to leave, if he was a real man. So, I'm telling you, that you will not go back there, unless he comes here himself to fetch you and apologize to you."

"You can't do that!" My mom yells at him.

"Yes I can. I'm her father. Would you want your own daughter to be hurt by her husband?"

"But Abdul Rahman, she's married! She's fully his responsibility now. You can't be like that! What if I were in her position? What if my father won't let you see me?"

"Azizah, I'm not going to argue with you anymore. This is final. You're staying here. You're my daughter and you're still my responsibility." Dad stands up and walks away to their bedroom, leaving mom and I speechless. It doesn't get any better though. Mom's sobs become audible again, and this time it gets worst. She chokes on her sobs, as if this truly hurts her.

"Mom, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I made you and dad to argue, again. I'll just leave by tomorrow morning." She shakes her head.

"No. What's done has been done. Your dad will get more angry if you leave. Stay here until Omar comes to get you." She wipes her tears away and leaves me alone in the deserted living room. I palm my face. What have I done? Another mistake in my list of mistakes...

I enter my room, fully feeling guilty. I don't know how many mistakes I've done since the last few months. What the heck is wrong with me?

I pull myself together, collecting all the courage that I still have and decide to give Omar a call. First ring... Second ring... Third ring... Fourth ring... Fifth ring...

"The number you're calling is currently not available. Please try again later." I huff out in annoyance, throwing the phone to bed. Please, please, please come and get me because I still love you...

•••

It's been two days since then, and each and every day, I feel burden. I have been hoping for him to come but every time so, there's nothing that assures me that he will come. And every time I try to phone him, it's either that he's busy, or he rejected, or he just doesn't pick it up.

The first day after my dad's decision went well. I could go back to work and finished my work without any distraction. Time even seemed to go by fast. I came home early after Asr. I had also avoided Umar in every cases. If anyone would ask me to go in his room to give some files, I'd make up excuses just to avoid another obstacle that might make a way to make things worst.

The second day, however, did not went by too well. I couldn't concentrate on my work and I always ended up excusing myself to the toilet to actually weep. Without even counseling all of the patients, I had to come home after dhuhr because I wasn't feeling well, at all. My eyes were puffy and my cheeks were hurting badly from all the bites that I did to stop myself from sobbing. Right after Maghrib, I had to take painkillers because of the sore throat, fever and severe migrain.

And now, I'm lying on the bed aimlessly. My eyes are still puffy due to lack of sleep and constant crying. I've locked myself since last night, skipping meals. Everyone's been trying to encourage me to open the door and join them eating in the dining room, but I refuse everytime they ask me to. I don't feel like meeting people and going out to eat meals. I just want to stay inside my room.

"Habibah, please open the door. I promise you won't have to come down, just please, eat your medicine and your lunch." It's mom. Yepp, I'm definitely feeling guilty for making her beg to me like that, but I honestly don't feel like doing anything. Not even for living. Everything feels like crushing down to me. Everything feels like falling apart and I feel like I'm just a piece of trash in this world.

"Habibah! Open the door now!" This time, it's my dad. I can't say no to this. I know how strict he is. He can just break the door.

"Fine fine... Just wait!" I hop off of the bed and unlock the door to see a furious man and a worried, crying woman. "Yes?"

"Here. Drink the medicine and eat the food! You're not stupid to kill yourself, so pull up yourself." My dad hands me the tray of food along with the medicine. He then leaves me and my mom alone.

"Please don't ever do that again." My mom sobs, crying on my shoulder. I carress her back and ask her to sit on my bed. "You made me worried! I almost call the psychology department to come and bring you to the asylum!"

"Mom, I'm a psychologist. I know what's going on with myself, okay? I'm fine. I'm just stressed and depressed and I just need some rest to calm down, okay?" I try to assure her.

"But please, don't ever skip meals and lock yourself like that! You have ulcer for Allah's sake! You won't end up good if you skip meals Habibah." I nod my head.

"In sha Allah..."