Yes, it was stupid of me to accept his hand in marriage.
And yes, he still loves her so so much and maybe he always will.
Will I ever be enough for him to love me back?
Can my heart ever make it out alive,
even if I am his UNLOVED WIFE?
*COMPLETE...
Got busy with my thesis. Hence, the delay. Thank you for your patience.
45. All is Well
Zai's POV
"It's a girl," the midwife doctor announced. Tears slowly pour out from my face and I breathed in and out, feeling exhausted of the delivery. My baby's cry was heard in the delivery room. She was handed to me after being wrapped up in a white sheet. I slowly hold her in my arms and no words come out from me.
Alhamdulillahi rabbil alamin. So this is how it feels.
The door opened and out came Amir who rushed towards me.
"Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar!" he uttered, kissing my forehead, staring at our baby girl.
He bent down and kissed Zameera. He kept on exclaiming words of happiness which seemed inaudible to me now. All I can see is his big happy smile, my tears of joy and our new bundle of happiness.
Thank you ya Allah. Thank you. **************************************************************************************************** Amir's POV
Three – year old Zameera insisted to bring the picnic basket. And my wife is just laughing about it as I told her it's too heavy for her.
"Lemme, lemme bring it Daddy," Zameera said as her hand tries to reach out the basket.
"No baby Zam – zam, Daddy will be the one to bring it. You can't carry it. It's too heavy okay?" I sweetly told her.
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"No, no, no. Lemme, lemme, lemme," she again insisted.
I looked at my wife who shook her head, smiling happily. She closed the back of the car as soon as she loaded the picnic mat.
Then she went to us and in an insant carried bay Zam – zam who is getting taller than other kids in the neighborhood.
"Dad's our Superman Zam. So let him carry it alright?" she said and kissed our daughter on the cheek.
"But I'm strong," our princess said.
"Of course you are. But if we won't let Daddy be the Superman, what would he be?" Zai pointed out.
Princess Zameera looked at me then at her Mom, as if thinking seriously. Then she smiled that smile that makes the Dad in me swelling in pride and happiness.
"Okay," she said joyfully.
"Let's go boom, boom now," she added, making us both laughed.
Zai and I walked towards the car. "Will you always let me be your Superman baby?" I asked Zameera.
"Yes," she answered.
"Good girl," I told her and pinched her cheek softly.
The rest of the car ride was spent in baby songs and Islamic recital for children. The three of us sing along to the lines, "Your mother, your mother, your mother and then your father."
