I was sitting in the hallway praying for Aahil's life when one of the doctors finally came out from the treatment room. I leapt to my feet, "He is going to be alright, isn't he?"

The doctor hesitated, "We are transferring him immediately to a city hospital for further diagnosis, there aren't any good hospitals around, to thoroughly identify the chemical he inhaled, he needs to pass several tests and that requires efficient hospitals."

I nodded my head in agreement, "But- he will be fine, won't he?'

"We will try all we can, Mrs Hussain. But frankly, we don't have much hope."

"How could you say that? Nothing is impossible for the Almighty and I hope for his mercy," I replied distressed, "Of course, he is going to be alright," I kept on saying that to myself so many numbers of times in the past several hours.

The doctor was about to reprimand me, but when he looked up and saw tears in my eyes, he turned around and walked towards his cabin and let me be.

After about half an hour I rode to the city in the ambulance plane with my unconscious husband.

Even though Aahil could not hear me, "I kept reassuring him that he will be fine during the entire flight journey."

I kept reading all the Surahs from the Quran which I had memorized, followed by reading the supplications from the small dua book which was always present in my handbag.

__________________

Thirty minutes later, Aahil was lying on a bed in a room of the emergency ward.

There was a pulsating oxygen mask on his face and an intravenous drip in his arm.

Dilshad was frantically pacing up and down, "You have to treat him and diagnose whatever is wrong," He yelled.

One of the doctor's said, "I should ask you both to leave the room. This is an emergency ward and we need silence here."

"No," Dilshad screeched, "I'm staying right here."

He walked over to the bed where Aahil lay unconscious and took his hand, "Come on bro. Wake up. We need you. The country needs you."

"Dilshad, we would like to finish the examination, so could you please leave."

Tears filled my eyes and I couldn't stand there any longer. Dilshad and Aahil were best of friends and It was clearly visible how distressed he was.

He turned to the doctor, "I want a private suite and twenty-four-hour private nurses."

"Can we discuss this later, Mr Athar?"

Dilshad said defiantly, "Fine, I'll is waiting in the corridor."

For the next couple of days, I slept in the cot in Aahil's room and stayed by Aahil's side as much as the doctors would allow it.

Most of the times Aahil was rushed downstairs in a stretcher for a number of MRI scans and CAT, x-rays as well as extensive blood work.

A few numbers of more sophisticated tests were also scheduled.

In the suite we were booked in, a number of highly qualified doctors were assigned to tend him.

Aahil had still not regained consciousness and I did not know what else to do other than asking Allah to heal him. I knew supplication was the weapon of a believer and I had no means other than praying. I had complete faith that my prayers would be answered.

One of the doctors was doing a routine check-up and I waited patiently for him to finish his examination, as I wanted to question him about Aahil's condition.

"How is he doing?" I asked meekly.

The doctor just a gave a grim expression and maintained his silence.

"Is he showing any signs of improvement?" I saw the expression on the doctor's face still remain grim.

"What is it?" I enquired once again.

"I'm afraid your husband's condition is very critical. He is lucky to be breathing. Whatever the experiment gas was, it was highly toxic."

"Please don't say that you really have to try," I begged, "If you recommended we could transfer him overseas."

"I don't think that can help much. We are trying all we can, Mrs Hussain."

I winced, "But there has to be some cure -------" I couldn't complete the sentence as I broke into inadequate sobs.

The doctor said caustically, "Mrs Hussain, we are afraid that it is one of the chemicals used during world wars. It is highly toxic and can have lasting effects."

I stood there, distressed, unable to give a reply.

"You can go in and see him."

When I walked into Aahil's hospital room, he was still unconscious. I went and stood near him and held his hands in mine, "Please wake up. I cannot see you like this," I couldn't bear to see him in such state and tried to muffle the sobs escaping my lips.

Heart monitors were attached to his chest. Oxygen supplement was removed for the time being, but he was still breathing heavily. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. The pain in my chest was agonisingly increasing.

My phone rang and I moved away to answer it, "I hope by now you have cleared your head. Stop giving statements to the police and stay away from the case if you don't have a death wish."

"Who?" My heart started beating painfully, panic gripping my chest.

"Why are you asking? Have you made up your mind to pass on the papers."

"Please stop hurting my family. None of us knows about the missing file," I pleaded tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"You have to believe it because that is the truth," I held a nearby cushion for support as my vision began to grow blurry.

"Ask the police to stop the investigation. If you are successful in achieving that then I promise to never harm your family."

My phone slipped out my hands out of sheer nervousness. I picked the fallen phone and pressed it my ear in haste but the call had disconnected. I tried placing a return call but was unable to, as the caller was smart enough to make it a private number.

I sighed deeply and fell backwards to the cushion as I tripped over my abaya. My phone rang again and this time it was Aahil's mum, "Assalamu alaikum."

"Waalaikum salam," I tried my best not to cry, but I couldn't stop the sniff that escaped. I needed consolation from someone and gave into the deep need to shed tears. I still hadn't overcome dad's loss and did not want to imagine my life without Aahil beside me. The very thought was enough to chill my bone.

"Aleena dear, Please don't cry. How is Aahil's condition?"

I glanced at Aahil's sleeping form, but the truth was that he wasn't sleeping. His tall frame was barely visible as the entire body was covered with wires attached to stupid machines.

"YaAllah. Crying is only going to make you sick my dear, you need to stay strong."

"InshaAllah, I'll try to remain calm," I replied between sobs.

"We will try to reach the hospital as soon as possible. Until then take care of yourself. Aahil is going to be fine, don't ever lose hope on Allah's mercy."

Speaking to Aahil's mom eased some my tensions and I realised that maybe Aahil had learnt it from her to be cool and collected in all circumstances.

There was a slight knock on the door and I opened it to reveal Dilshad standing there with brown paper packages of food.

"Mrs Hussain, I brought you lunch."

"Thank you. It was very thoughtful of you but I'm not hungry."

"I delivered the food on Ma'am sefia's request and I don't think she will be pleased if the food goes untouched."

"I'm not hungry Dilshad, look at my husband he is fighting for his life," I said pointing towards were Aahil lay, tears streaming down my cheeks in a wet rush.

"Your husband cared for you dearly. He might not have confided that, but believe me he wouldn't want you to be sick with worry."

"I'll have lunch."

Dilshad gave a faint smile and turned to leave, "Mrs Hussain."

"Tell me.'

"Do not step out without someone accompanying you, it isn't safe."

I agreed. I knew Dilshad wasn't wrong and therefore I needed to be as careful as possible.

Opening the brown paper parcel, I sat in one of the chairs and started munching on baked sandwiches.

There was slight movement from Aahil and I instantly rushed to his side and took his hands in mine.

He opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times. I rang the bell to the nurse's station and waited. He seemed to struggle for a long, long time.

Slowly sluggishly he opened his eyes wide and I was hovering over him with worry.

His eyes became wider and he struggled to say something, but nothing came out.

"Don't stress yourself, you can speak later," I squeezed his hand in reassurance as tears rolled down my cheeks.

His struggle increased and he began trembling. His breathing became louder and irregular.

He couldn't breathe. His hands came up to his throat.

I pressed the button that alerted the station for extreme emergency.

"YaAllah...Aahil please calm down," I had a sinking feeling that things were going to turn worse. His dark eyes seemed to beg me for an assurance I couldn't give.

I felt like a failure as a wife. I could do nothing other than stare at him. It was sixteen hours now since Aahil was admitted to the hospital and instead of improvement, his condition was getting more worse.

Aahil was watching me with burning intensity, his eyes dark, glittering coals, unwavering, focused only on me.

I felt his hands curl gently, warmly, around mine. I tried to smile but didn't succeed. My mouth had gone dry.

A nurse entered followed by doctors. She held a mask over his face.

"Laryngeal spasm," Someone shouted.

"Save my husband," I heard myself scream.

He was desperately fighting, needing the freedom to breathe and I stood there like a silent spectator, unable to lessen his pain.

They jabbed his arm and some awful thing was being forced into his mouth.

A strange sensation of floating filled me, which was quickly obliterated by the blackness of nothing.

Most of the times in our lives, we realise the worth of something when we no longer own it and It is quite similar to relationships too. Until the person is beside us we have no time to savour the privilege and only realise their role when we feel threatened of them leaving our side.

I had always thought of myself as someone with a conscience, but I had wanted Aahil to taste the same medicine he had given me. Therefore, even after him repeatedly showing concern, I had seized myself from doing the same. I was still fighting with him on the basis of how he had treated me on the early days of our marriage. I thought being nice to him would be a sign of weakness.

What I failed to realise was that there was a very thin line between weakness and strength. Love can make you weak or strong depending on your actions. And in my haste to put on a brave front, I had only hurt him and me. I had destroyed what could have lead to something precious.

Now, it was too late. I would never have a beautiful future with a most amazing person I had ever met and unfortunately wouldn't even have a loving memory to hold on to!

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Dedicated to zoya111

Fee amanillah <3