This is a one off chapter from Salman and Noor's perspective.
Noor
The lights were blinding so I closed my eyes. The pain in my throat excruciating so I took short gasping breaths. Nothing in my surroundings was familiar, giving rise to a panic I had only once felt before. That was the moment I had found myself alone at home, struggling to catch my breath while I stumbled around looking for my phone to call for help.
Vague memories of Kim's distressed voice, and the blaring sirens of an ambulance threatened to turn the panic into full on hysteria when I heard him laugh. It wasn't the carefree type that I had fallen in love with. This was more measured, and calculated, with an edge of anxiety.
But I heard it, which meant he was here. Right next to me, when I so desperately needed him to be my anchor.
I opened my eyes and looked at him, "Salman", my voice croaked.
"Noor", his voice faltered.
That was all he needed to say for a calmness to descend over me. One hand clasped mine, the other gently caressed my cheek pushing back strands of hair. There were tears in his eyes but a tender smile on his face and I knew then; we would be ok. Where ever we were, whatever moment in time this was, he and I were together and that is all that mattered.
"Noor, I am going to put this face mask on you so we can give you Oxygen", I heard a friendly voice say, "Stay with me, ok. We'll take care of you"
"Ok", I whispered to Madi and let her put the plastic mask on my face while I closed my eyes, tightening my grip on Salman's hand. As the grogginess lifted, I remembered more of how I ended up here. Things started to make more sense, till once again panic ripped through my battered body.
My eyelids flew open, "Our daughter", I said to Salman.
"Don't worry", his said softly, "She was born early but is doing very well in the NICU"
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Now close your eyes and rest. We'll go meet her in a bit"
His composure was infectious, I had to admit. Which was funny, because our roles had always been reversed. He was the hot-headed one, and I was the cool, composed one. He went all out with guns blazing when things didn't go his way, I would stop, think, ponder. We were opposite in so many ways, yet we were perfect in every other way too.
I smiled at that thought and closed my eyes. The lights were still too bright.
"Your daughter will finally have a name too", a voice from my past spoke.
My eyes flew open. The lights were too bright, but I blinked and blinked and then I saw the man who was once my fiancé standing next to my husband. A new kind of panic settled in.
"Omar", my voice was hoarse but loud enough that he looked at me. I looked at my husband then back at him. Both were smiling now, and I was sure that I was just dreaming. Maybe I had died and woken up in an alternate world, or the anesthesia was making me hallucinate.
Nothing made sense again.
The last time I had mentioned Omar in front of Salman, he had vowed to punch him in the face if he spoke to me again.
And the last time I had met Omar, he ran away from me like I carried the plague.
"You both - met?", I asked hesitantly.
Salman chuckled and pretended to whisper to me, "Oh yeah we've met and fyi, Omar is still as dumb as before. Nothing has changed"
"At least I don't go around calling people names like a bratty kindergartner", came the instant reply.
"Both of you, keep quiet. Stop stressing her out", Madi told them sternly, and put her stethoscope on my chest.
"Breathe through your mouth", she instructed, like she was the only adult in the room.
"Noor, your lungs are clear. Does your throat hurt?", she asked.
"Not as much as before", I replied, she smiled and started to move away but I caught her white coat.
"What did I miss?"
She shook her head and grinned, "Oh God, a lot. Get better soon".
Her gaze wandered to Omar who was bickering about something with my husband, "I'll catch you up on everything later", she sighed.
Uh, what in the world is going on? I wondered.
*******
When Madi, Omar and others from my medical team left, the nurse came in with some wet washcloths, "Let's clean up your face and neck with these"
"I can do that for her", Salman immediately spoke up.
The nurse grinned at him and then me, "Of course you can. Noor, this man is crazy about you. In case you didn't know that already"
"I am crazy about him too", I smiled at my husband, and he flashed his breathtaking smile at me. Which was a problem, because my breathing wasn't exactly normal right now. Taking my breath away would become a medical problem.
When the nurse stepped out, Salman took the washcloth and gently wiped my forehead, "How are you feeling...my love?"
"My love? Is that a new nickname for me?", I teased him.
"I had a lot of time to think sitting on this chair, and I realized that I never gave you a nickname. So I was testing the top two on my list"
"What's number 2 on the list?"
"Meri beti ki maa", he replied in a heavily accented voice.
I couldn't help giggling at his name for me as much as the way he had said it, but to my surprise instead of smiling back his eyes filled with sadness, "Actually, I don't want a nickname for you. I just love calling you Noor"
He gently held my chin with one hand, and bought the washcloth down to my cheeks, but did not break eye contact, "Because you, my gorgeous, intelligent, funny wife, are the literal light of my life. Without you there is nothing but darkness. So my dear wife..."
He bent forward till his lips hovered just above my ear, and whispered, "Noor is the perfect and only name I ever want to call you"
I knew I should say something in response to his words, but I couldn't look away or think when he was looking at me like that. All I wanted to do was pull him in and make him kiss me, but I was still hooked on to IV lines and monitor leads. I did notice something else that I hadn't till now.
He seemed to have aged years since the last time I saw him. His eyes were warm but sunken, his cheeks were sagging and he looked like he had lost weight. The laugh lines around his mouth were deeper, and he hadn't shaved in days.
I had been so absorbed in myself, that I hadn't seen how he had barely been able to survive himself. He loved me and my daughter, and the last two weeks must have been absolute hell for him.
"Come here", I pulled him in for a half-hug, nuzzling my face against the crook of his neck I inhaled his scent deeply, "I am so sorry that you had deal with everything on your own"
He didn't say anything at first, but as he leaned his head on mine I could feel his body shudder, and his voice cracked when he finally said, "I almost lost you Noor. I almost lost everything I had ever wanted". The pain in his voice broke my heart.
"But you didn't, you still have us. I know we've been through hell and back, but Allah works in miraculous ways, and I know that we will come out stronger, together"
He nodded, and a small smile finally graced his lips, "I know. Besides, I wasn't all alone. Madi and Omar were here too"
That reminded me, "Madi and Omar? Did I see what I thought I saw with them?"
"I think they're trying to pull a SalNoor 2.0, except they're just friends now", Salman rolled his eyes, "But don't you worry, I am already on it"
The glint in his eyes made me look at him suspiciously, "And why exactly are you helping them get together?"
"To gain free baby sitting services, of course, so we can go out on date nights", he smirked, "I wouldn't trust anyone else with a premature child"
I smiled as he filled me in on the drama I had missed out on, but it wasn't so much because the thought of my childhood friend finding someone as amazing as Madi. It was more because as he animatedly narrated their story, I could fully reassure myself; the darkness that sometimes engulfed my husband hadn't affected him this time.
Something told me, Madi and Omar had everything to do with that.
Salman
It should have felt weird walking through the hospital, pushing my wife on a wheelchair as we made our way to meet our daughter. These walls had seen our entire story played out in front of them. But right then all I did was pray that my family would make it through our ordeal without any long-term consequences, and be thankful that the fears that were eating me up in the last two weeks had not come true.
I knew I shouldn't have broken down like that in front of Noor, she needed to focus on getting better herself, not worry about me. But when she tugged at my shirt and pulled me closer, I couldn't help but let out some of the pain and agony that I had been carrying around. Today was the first day that I had actually been able to breathe since the fateful day when I jumped into my car and raced to Chicago.
There was still plenty of angst we would have to face, together, but when we reached our daughter's incubator in the neonatal ICU I knew that this was not the time to worry about the future. This was the time to introduce my daughter to her warrior of a mother.
I helped her out of the wheelchair and into the comfortable recliner chair next to the incubator, and the nurse took our daughter out gently and helped Noor hold her.
"Asalaam ulaikum little one", Noor whispered lovingly to her daughter, "I am your Mama. I am sorry I haven't been there for you, but I am here now and I am never leaving"
My heart was literally going to burst with the emotions I was feeling then as I looked at my gorgeous wife, with tears streaming down her cheeks, hold the daughter we had together - the perfect of symbol of our undying love.
And somehow our daughter, as little as she was, knew exactly who her mother was because she did not blink her eyes even once as she stared back at Noor's face.
"I love her", Noor said as she looked up at me.
I hadn't realized that I was holding back tears as well, until I tried to reply to Noor and my voice came out in a hoarse whisper, "I love her too"
"Salman...we have so much to be thankful for", Noor said, as she smiled at our daughter again. and kissed her on her head.
This is why I fell in love with her, I thought.
My wife's ability to somehow take a broken man, or a mind numbingly horrible situation, and look for the best in them, is why I loved her so much. Her infectious optimism, her bright smile even in the face of adversity, her warmth and affection - that was why she was my Noor, the light of my life.
"We have to name her. We can't keep calling her baby girl Noor", I said, sitting down in my own chair.
"Just what I was thinking. Do you have suggestions?"
I actually did, on my phone. One night as I was sitting in Noor's room, I had made a whole list of names and their meanings. So I pulled it up, and while baby girl Noor fell asleep peacefully in the warmth of her mother, we discussed potential name for her. In the end we both loved the name Ayah, which meant 'miracle' in Arabic, which she sure was.
And so at about two weeks of age, tiny little baby girl Noor, became Ayah Salman.
"Well, that was number 1 out of a million decisions we will have to make for her", I smiled at Noor, who was gently caressing Ayah's head.
She reached out her hand to grab mine and squeezed it, "And we'll do it together"
I took a deep breath and sat back in my chair, admiring the view in front of me. There was so much work to be done, the time we both took off from work needed to be planned, call schedules had to be moved around, nanny or daycare to be decided upon, not to mention Noor had been adamant that she wanted to try and breastfeed and I would have to buy a breast pump so she could start pumping. We hadn't even bought a crib yet, or a car seat. And my mother-in-law's visa was still stuck in the US embassy.
I had started to make a list of all of that, complete with excel sheets and links to the different websites. It was a way to keep myself occupied as I sat next to Noor in the ICU. Imagining a life with the two people who meant the most to me was the only thing that had kept me going. That, and holding my daughter, making fun of a man I used to hate, and talking some sense into a woman who deserved better.
But for now, all of that could wait. For now, I just wanted to revel in the way my daughter was snuggling with her mother, who had survived the most harrowing experience of her life, yet had somehow emerged from it more beautiful and more loving than before.
For now, I was just going to sit back and enjoy being a husband and a father.
Madiha
"Oh you three look so perfect together, MashaAllah", I told Noor when we went to visit her and Salman and little Ayah in the NICU.
"MashaAllah", the intern next to me said as well.
I supposed I shouldn't be calling him 'the intern'. We are friends now, I reminded myself. Yet, when I looked at him, his tall frame leaning against the wall closest to us, a part of me out rightly rejected that thought.
But a louder, battle-hardened part remained adamant. I didn't want anything from anyone. Me, by myself would be enough.
Like my father had said, there will always be place for her in this home.
"Madi, we should get going. Otherwise, we'll miss resident's noon conference", my new friend said, his chocolate brown eyes holding me captive for longer than they should have.
I hugged Noor, Omar shook Salman's hand who leaned in an whispered something which made Omar shove him back. Salman was doubling over with laughter when we said our good-byes to the couple who had been through so much, yet seemed to find humor despite it, and made our way to the elevators. All in an uncharacteristic silence.
"They seem happy", I finally spoke.
"They deserve it", Omar replied with a faraway look in his eyes.
Something occurred to me, that I hadn't dared to question before. But now, with this new found friendship, I didn't stop myself from going there.
"Are you ever jealous of Salman?", I asked him quietly.
He didn't say anything, just kept staring off into the distance while I held my breath. And when he did look at me, I willed him to deny it, to say that he was over Noor once and for all. That no part of him wished that he was the one sitting there with her.
But that is not what he said at all.
"Yes, sometimes I am. What man wouldn't want what he has?", there was a longing in his eyes as he turned to look at me, that made my heart sink.
It shouldn't have. We were just friends. He had used the word 'what', not 'who'. But a wounded heart is seldom a patient heart.
"I am glad we're friends", I blurted out quickly, before his words could find the vulnerability within me I had vowed to hide from him, and the world. I couldn't afford to feel anything. I had too many mountains to scale, and naysayers to fight off.
He simply smiled, "Me too, but this is just a temporary arrangement"
Us being friends is a temporary arrangement? Just like my marriage to Jawad would have been temporary, my brain immediately concluded.
"Till you leave Chicago?", I asked, regretting that I had asked him anything at all.
"Till you're ready to hear the truth", he replied.
I heard him, but I didn't listen to him. My mind was made up. Impatient to move on from this dilemma that always faced me near him.
The elevator came, we got in. With every floor we descended more people got in, till we were separated by a handful of strangers. A blur of faces and voices that became the sea separating me from him, my future from his. I closed my eyes, shutting them all out and took a deep breath in, trying to keep my heart away from emotions.
Yet, mere mortals, no matter how brilliant, have never been able to tame their heart. Have they?
This is our last weekend call in the ICU together, I reminded myself.
It was almost October of 2019. As history would tell, this was unfortunately the first of many more weekends we would spend in the ICU, under the worst of conditions.
But between then and now there was Maliha's wedding that would turn my world completely upside down.
*******
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