Bismillah.
Spoiler Alert: This scene contains some clues and details on how The Unloved Wife ended. If you have not read that completely, and intend to, you may do so at . Just typed in the title in the search box. In shaa Allah.
Chapter Forty – Eight: Perfect State
Isaac's POV
Fatima has been trying to contact me for a month now and I have been travelling from one country to another, if not from one town to another. She has been texting me furiously everytime I ignore her calls. Well, she deserves it. I don't know but I just had enough of her attitude. It's funny how before we had a child, I can still put up to her antics and her confusion. But us being a family should have entitled her to be responsible. Seeing that she still went to that Handsome Seven concert, I felt not only disrespected but neglected at all.
If ours would be a story, the title would be The Neglected Husband. I shook my head at my own thought, and sipped my coffee as I watched Ibrahim play ball at the rented house' garden we stayed in.
I sighed.
I still love her. And I hate myself for still loving her.
I made up my mind to go to the person who can best give me the advice I need. I got my phone and dialed his number. He answered at the fourth ring.
"Hello Mr. Aaron Musa. Assalamu alaykum."
Fatima's POV
I was a changed woman. I have changed and I was blinded, more than once, more than twice.
I totally understand my husband. But as Ibrahim's Mom, it has been one hell of a torture for me, not being able to see my son. I knew that Isaac is intentionally keeping me away from Ibrahim to teach me a lesson. Ya Allah, I have learned my lesson already, please return back my family.
I cried in my sujud. I cried in every sujud.
I blamed myself. I am entirely to be blamed.
After doing tahadjud prayer, I still could not sleep until I saw in my shelf the hard copy of The Unloved Wife. I got it and reread the story.
I wanted answers and directions on how to win my husband back. And I know someone who can do just that. However, the details of his house is something I am unaware of. Only two people I know know where and how I can contact Aaron Musa. One has left me completely and one is trying his best to stay away from me.
Should I contact RM or Isaac?
It's a marital problem. RM should stay out of it.
Isaac won't answer nor reply.
I don't have a choice.
I chose to text RM.
"I need to know where Aaron Musa is staying," my text simply said.
In shaa Allah, that would be the last time I will contact RM.
_____________________________________________________________________
RM's POV
We all still feel guilty making Fatima feel that we are in no need of her.
That we no longer care.
The truth of the matter was, we signed a five more year contract with Big Hit. That means we got one more year. We weren't allowed to divulge anyone that we are quitting in our fifth year. That includes Fatima. Actually, especially Fatima.
After the concert, Tae locked himself in his room, Jungkook kept on eating, Suga kept on writing, Jin kept on cooking food until all ingredients were used, Jimin kept on shopping, Hoseok watches a lot of cartoons while I kept on reading. We were worried, we were clueless of what to do.
As I continued to the next Conan Doyle story, my phone vibrated. I got it from my bedroom table and was surprised to see a text from Fatima, asking Aaron's home direction. I inhaled. Her marriage must have been on a rough road.
If only she chose to marry me, a part of me was saying.
What could have happened if she said yes when I proposed? Maybe The Handsome Seven would never happen. We wouldn't be in this trap. And she wouldn't be in a love maze, chasing a husband that had enough of her immaturity.
I sighed and composed in a reply, indicating the street name and house number, including the color of the gate. I hit the send button and did not expect for a reply.
After an hour of reading and still no reply from Fatima, I let go of the book I was holding and decided to interfere. I need to fill in to Aaron the history of Fatima, Isaac and us seven so he could give her sound advice. I went to my laptop and opened up Skype. After 15 minutes, the old man in his mid 60's shows up.
"Hello RM," he said.
"Hello Aaron," I greeted.
"So how's it going?"
"Fine, alhamdulillah."
"How can you be fine when you are working in the fitnah of the Ummah?" the old man complained.
I laughed to hide my embarrassment.
"I will quit next year. We all will, in shaa Allah."
"In shaa Allah."
"So I called because there's this old friend of mine, a girl. She's married and she's on her way to your house to seek for advice."
"Let me guess, she's more than just a friend to you. She's the love of your life," Aaron guessed.
I simply nod, disregarding the hollow feeling in my heart.
"Okay, what do I need to know?"
I told Aaron everything there is to know about Fatima, her weakness, her changed, her transformation, her strengths, her way of coming back up after falling down. I also had to tell Aaron about Isaac's love for her.
After an hour, Aaron hung up as his wife was already cooking lunch for him.
Aaron was able to get over Zainab. I think I can get over my bestfriend too, one day, in a few years time. In shaa Allah.
"RM, come out and eat!' Jin was screaming.
We just had corn 30 minutes ago. I shook my head. We all do something to cope up our pain and loss. For Jin it's cooking. For me its reading. And I hope for Fatima, it won't be listening to our music or relying onto our love for her. That was the main reason we were cold to her. We didn't want her confused again. We didn't want her losing her husband and the kid we ourselves protected from the evil plot of our Big Hit CEO.
I just hope and pray, she resolved her conflict with her husband and live happily here and in the heafter. Ameen.
I rose up from my chair and headed towards the kitchen where the rest are having pizza. They were joking and smiling. I joined along. Just one more year RM. One more year before calling it quits in the profession that harms the deen, corrupts the heart, confuses the mind and neglects the soul.
____________________________________________________________________
Isaac's POV
I brought Ibrahim with me. We entered the Musa mansion and was welcomed by Aaron himself. The man had gray hair and long white beard. Old age must have suited him well as he appeared jovial and cheerful.
"Hello young lad! Assalamu alaykum," he greeted my son first.
"I am Aaron, what's your name?" he asked Ibrahim.
"Ibrahim, my name is Ibrahim," my son answered as he shook the hands of Aaron.
"What do we say when somebody greets us with salam?" I reminded my son.
He straightened up and then smiled at Mr. Musa.
"Wa alaykumusalam warahmmalah," my little son said, making me chuckle as he is stil not able to pronounce warahmatullah well.
Aaron pat his head.
"Do you know that your Dad's name, my name and your name are all names of the prophets of Allah?" Aaron asked him as he led us towards the living room.
"Really?" my son said, amazed.
"Mama's name is the name of the son of Muhammad and her other name is the name of the mother of Jesus," Ibrahim proudly said.
"Such a cute little boy," Aaron said.
We sat at the living room and was served with drinks by one of the helpers.
"So tell me Mr. Khalid, what brings you here?" Aaron asked right after the maid brought Ibrahim to the playroom to play with Aaron's grandchild, his adopted son Yahya's seventh son.
"I know I should go to a marriage counselor but I am more comfortable sharing it to someone I trust and look up to," I began.
He simply nod. Then the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupted me. Aaron stood up.
"I think I'll get that. You stay here and make yourself comfortable," Aaron said.
After less than a minute, Aaron arrived with a woman I never expected to be here.
"Fatima," I uttered, seeing my wife's hesitant face.
"Please sit and make yourself comfortable. I only have one maid. So I think I'll go get some pineapple juice for you Mrs. Khalid," said Aaron who left us alone in the living room.
Tension. Tension was what I felt. I crossed my leg and sat up straight. Meanwhile, my wife looked around as if admiring the big living room. None of us wanted to speak to each other even iffor sure, both of us have a lot to say.
"What brings you here?" Aaron asked who now came back with a tray of cookies and one more glass of pineapple juice.
"Please do eat," he said to her.
She complied and sipped her juice a ltitle.
"Is my son here?" she asked him.
"Yes, he's playing with my grandchild, Yusuf, Yahya's seventh son," Aaron answered.
She rose up.
"Can I see him?" my wife asked and stood up.
"I see no reason why you shouldn't. Its' on the third room towards right," Aaron said, leaving me speechless.
Fatima hurriedly scurried towards the room and seeing her excited face with traces of sadness in her gestures and eyes slightly made me feel bad about keeping her son away.
"Real love does not bother to see faults. It does not bother at all," Aaron said to me meaningfully.
"But what if those faults..."
I was not able to finish because he interrupted me.
"Your wife's perfect state is in Jannah, not here in the Dunya. Faults happen for us to grow and learn from. She's still alive isn't she? So Allah is giving her a second chance. Why won't you?" the old man said with a hint of sarcasm.
"When my bestfriend Amir died, I knew it was part of the punishment and expiation towards Zainab, part of me believed that. Sometimes Allah took people away early because the world is a fitnah, a testing place, a difficult place. Do you remember the being Musa wanted to learn from? They separated paths because Musa was impatient when the said person allowed the child of a good loving people to pass away. It turned out that the said child would grow up to be a bad son. Hence by the mercy of Allah, it was turned around. That story makes one realize that ultimately, Allah has the last call on everything. And that every wrong deed has one or two difficult consequences one must face later in life," Aaron continued.
"Forgive your wife Isaac. Or she'll have to face Allah's Wrath. And we both know when Allah is angry, HE punishes severely," Aaron finished.
"Wait, I haven't told you anything, how did you know all this?" I asked, curious.
"RM," he said.
"RM told me the story to get the clear picture," he added.
My wife returned with Ibrahim on her arms. Ibrahim was giggling and telling her stories of our travel. The sight touched me. Zainab lost her son and her husband in a car accident. It was Qadr. It could also be the expiation of her sins.
I don't want any of my family to pass away anytime soon. I must learn to forgive. I stood up and shook hands with Aaron.
"Thank you, my wife and I will go now. Rest assured that one of these days, we'll come back and visit," I told him.
Aaron smiled widely and escorted us outside.
Once outside, my wife was biting her lips awaiting for my decision. I sighed, grabbed her and kissed her forehead with a giggling Ibrahim on her arms.
"Ayeee, Dad kissed Mom, love, love!"
Fatima started crying. I rubbed her back and kissed her forehead again.
"Shhhh, stop crying. You haven't lost us. And you never will," I comforted her.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated over and over again.
Ibrahim was about to cry too when I snapped my fingers at them both.
"Come on, come on, we have a historical beach to go to," I told them.
"Beach?" Ibrahim asked, his eyes brightening.
Fatima had stopped crying and I reached out my handky to her.
Once inside the car, Ibrahim fell asleep at the backseat.
Fatima was awake.
"I love you," I told her, looking at the mirror above me.
She smiled and got teary – eyed again.
"I love you too Isaac."
Just like that, all was better now. In shaa Allah.
______________________________________________________________________
"Let them pardon and forgive. Do you not love that Allah should forgive you?"
- Qur'an, 24:22
______________________________________________________________________
Next part shall be the epilogue.
Vote and comment. <3
Jazakallahu khairan!