FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A WHILE, I COULD FEEL THE VIBES OF EID. Ibrahim went to the mosque while I prayed in the comfort of my room. Ibrahim came back not long after which was a bit unusual but considering he needed to go for prayer, it wasn't unusual.

I was sitting on my bed when he walked into the room dressed in a sweater and jogging pants. He flashed me a smile when his eyes landed on me, strolling towards me leaning down to peck my head.

"You're awake?" He quirked a brow as he pulled away  and I smiled, nodding my head.

"It's Eid. Remember?" I tilted my head to the side earning a laugh from him as he settled on the bed beside me, his hands clasped together.

"What are you going to wear?" I took off my hijab as I turned to face him, finding him already staring at me.

"I'll pick one of the ones I already have." Ibrahim pondered.

"How about I pick them out for you?" I offered earning a nod of approval from him, following me out of the room as I ventured to his clean room feeling his figure looming behind me.

"There are a few that came from dry cleaning. I couldn't find the courage to go through them." I muttered the last sentence as I pulled out a small box containing his clothes ignoring Ibrahim's gaze on me.

I stepped out of the closet dumping it on the table beside the balcony, taking off the lid. I was presented with a stack of clothes belonging to the man standing a few feet away that I was thought wasn't in my life anymore. My eyes teared up and I chuckled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand as I spun around to face him with a sweet smile.

"These are safe." I twinkled coming to face with his concerned face as he walked toward me, peeking into the box to see the contents before his eyes flickered to me, his expression calm and serene, almost emotional.

"I'm here now." He whispered peering into my eyes. I bit my lip as I glanced down, fiddling with the lid of the box in my hands.

"And I'm thanking God for it everyday." I stated honestly. He remained quiet because he knew there was a but coming.

"But I can't help but think this would've gone to someone, someone who wasn't you." I raised my eyes to meet his. "And I spent the last two months running away from that." My voice quivered as I folded my lips in my mouth letting him pull me to his chest.

We spent a few minutes in that position before I pulled away, raising my hand to wipe my eyes. He didn't object but stared at me intently as I collected myself. I flashed him the most reassuring smile I could muster.

"How can you get over it when you never talk about it?"
He raised his brow impatiently before his eyes softened when he noticed the tears pooling in my eyes.

"It's just going to make you feel worse. There's no use talking about it." I mumbled causing a frustrated sigh to escape his lips.

"I'm your husband, Sumaya. I want to make things right for leaving you to go through all you went through alone." His hands went to rest on my shoulders. "And you'll never let go of the pain if you keep holding it in." He let his hands slid down taking my hands in his.

"So are you going to—" He didn't finish his sentence when the doorbell rang. I snatched the opportunity considering I really didn't want to talk about this anymore as I went to the bed snatching off my hijab.

"Let me go check who's at the door. We'll continue this later, I promise." I assured as he squinted his eyes but I chose to act clueless, slipping out of the room. I skipped down the stairs pulling the front door open coming to face with Hameed, causing the small smile playing on my lips to falter.

"Hameed?" I knitted my brows and he flashed me a weak smile.

"Can I come in?" He trailed off earning a hesitant nod from me as I glanced towards the stairs hoping Ibrahim was already in the shower.

"What brings you here?" I asked shutting the door, circling the small console to get to the living room. I found him already sitting on the chair, his hands clasped together as he quietly looked around the place before his eyes fell on me at my question.

"I wanted to check up on you." Hameed responded.

"That's thoughtful. I appreciate it." I hummed fiddling with my hijab.

"Are you okay?" He asked making me roll my eyes playfully although there was a tinge of irritation that stirred within me.

"Why wouldn't I be okay Hameed?" I tilted my head to the side with a tight smile to pair with it.

"You're not stable Sumaya. You're not supposed to be holed up at home. You're supposed to be around your family." Hameed expressed in a low tone, his eyes almost pleading but that didn't phase me.

"I'm not alone, Hameed." I snapped. "I have my husband with me. And I'd rather be where I'm wanted instead of being somewhere where I'm constantly reminded I'm not. So if you're here to lecture me about family, you just wasted your time." I thrusted my hand towards the stairs not missing the way his face tightened at the mention of Ibrahim.

"Where is he?" He demanded earning a laugh from me as I stared at the ceiling, trying to collect myself. It's funny that's the only thing he caught.

"Who?" I quirked my brow.

"Ibrahim."

"In the shower. I'm not in the best of moods Hameed. So please if you're here to question my life decisions, I'd rather not hear it." I warned causing a sigh to escape his lips as he took off his cap, running a hand over his hair.

"I'm not here to question your life, but the way you looked the last time I saw you was concerning." He parts his lips to utter something but hesitated. He leaned forward in his seat, peering into my eyes.

"Because like I said, there are issues to resolve." I countered, cutting my eyes at him.

"I heard what happened." Hameed murmured with a pitiful look on his face causing me to jerk my head back, a horrified expression painted on my face.

"She told you?" I knitted my brows pushing my hands up my thighs and he nodded, releasing a breath.

"She was worried about you." He defended.

"That doesn't give her the right to tell you my business." I countered and he bobbed his head in agreement.

"It isn't. We're family now and we look out for each other. And I'm taking that seriously. I'm not going to watch you bury yourself into a deeper hole you tried so hard to crawl out of." He expressed in a somber voice causing my eyes to well with tears as I looked off to the side.

"Where is she now?" I questioned lowly, almost incoherent.

"What?" He tilted his head to the side, appearing confused.

"Where is Safiya? She told you about this because she was worried but where is she?" I exclaimed raising both my brows and the look of utter disbelief washing across his face further proved my point.

I let out a pitiful laugh as I blinked back tears. It just dawned on me that I truly had no one, and I couldn't help but feel sad for myself, pity myself. Hameed truly had good intentions but it made me feel worse that he was the only person who truly cared enough to check up on me.

"Safiya has a weird way of viewing things but she has good intentions." Hameed reasoned and I couldn't help but scoff at his choice of words.

"I'm her sister. My husband died and she couldn't even spare a minute to check up on me after the first week." I agonized as I pushed my finger against my chest.

"I can't say anything to defend her and I can understand how you're feeling." Hameed expressed.

"I just don't want to remind myself every single day that my family doesn't care how broken I am." I croaked feeling exhausted from the whole conversation already.

Hammed pressed his lips together. "I haven't stopped caring about you." He says in a low tone, his eyes showing his words were sincere.

"Hameed." I shut my eyes causing a tear to roll down my cheek at the action. This was what I was dreading and all my fears came to life.

"Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean I'll just stop caring—" I couldn't continue listening to what he was saying because I knew where he was heading so I called out his name.

"Hameed." I warned, my tone stern. He sighed as he raised his eyes to meet my hardened ones.

"I appreciate you coming to check on me, but I'm not your responsibility anymore. I live under someone now."  I put out bluntly and the look of hurt that flashed across his face made me feel guilty but I needed to. It took a few seconds for him to reply.

"Okay." He muttered in a pained voice.

"Thank you." My face softened and he met my eyes once again, nodding in understanding after a while.

"Take care of yourself. That's all I ask." He requested and I nodded in agreement, flashing him a small smile. I didn't bother showing him to the door hearing the painful click of the door as he let himself out.

I sniffled wiping my tears making my way up the stairs to see if Ibrahim was ready on my to find him at the top of the staircase, staring at me furiously.

"I thought you were getting ready." I tilted my head to the side approaching him to place a hand on his arm.

"What's Hameed doing here?" He arched a brow causing me to sigh as I dragged my hand off his arm.

"He wanted to check up on me." I explained causing him to roll his eyes, further confusing me. "Is something wrong?" I chose to ask.

"Why is Hameed of all people checking on you?" He tilted his head to the side accusingly causing me to let out a breath as a a laugh, addressing him with an incredulous look.

"Because my family didn't care enough to." I exposed making his furious gaze falter, before it made an appearance once again.

"And he checked on you, of all people" Ibrahim wondered as he crossed his arms over his chest, his hand coming to stroke his beard.

"Ibrahim what are you insinuating, hm?" I responded lacing my hands together, my words laced with irritation.

"I'm trying to understand why Hameed, the person you were involved with would check up on you." Ibrahim squinted his eyes, his tone sounding almost mocking.

How did Ibrahim know about this?

My last relationship with Hameed was something in my Safiya, mama and I knew. So the fact that he knew made me wonder how he did, or he picked it up from our conversation just now.

"How—" I trailed off. "Have I given you any reason to distrust me?" I countered, genuinely curious to hear his reply. I couldn't believe he thought I had an affair with Hameed, my sister's husband.

"No, but you not sharing your experiences with me would make sense." He shrugged his shoulders. I blinked as I looked off to the side.

"Because I don't want to relive it. I want to forget about it and you asking me to relive that for you is something I don't think I can ever do. So instead of accusing me of seeing another man, why don't you understand my reasoning for once and let it go!" I snapped, raising my hands in exasperation.

Ibrahim's face softened when he heard the quiver in voice as he retreated, his teeth nibbling on his inner lip. I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head disappointingly coming to terms with the fact that my own husband has no trust in me.

"I just wanted to know if something happened at the time. It would've been understandable if it did. I just wanted to know if that's what has been bothering you lately, and the reason why you won't confide in me." Ibrahim confessed in a low tone causing my face to soften at his revelation.

"He's my sisters husband. He's not just my ex anymore." I whispered the last part and he nodded defeatedly. "And I'm sorry for keeping so much from you to start jumping into conclusions because I wasn't ready to give you an explanation. Please, I just need more time."

He didn't let me finish my sentence before he ran a tired hand down his face. His eyes flickered from the floor to me, guilt coating his features.

"I'm sorry. For pressurizing you, for distrusting you." He murmured and I nodded, flashing him a weak smile.

"So you missed Eid prayer?" I raised both my brows, letting out a laugh at his horrified expression.

"It was intentional." He chuckled squeezing another laugh out of me as I rushed to my room only to end up thrown over his shoulder, leaving me to pound my fists on his back trying to fight my way out of the position.

•••

We woke up to the abrupt sound of my phone ringing only to find numerous missed calls from my family members. I jumped out of bed waking Ibrahim up in the process, as he stared at me with droopy eyes.

"Hello." I said into the phone addressing my cousin, Nadia.

"Sumaya I've been trying to reach you." She sniffled. "Jamila was rushed to the hospital. Everyone is already here." She rushed out causing my brows to jump up as I quickened my pace towards my room throwing on an after dress.

"I'll be right there." I assured before the call ended. I rushed to the bathroom brushing my teeth, raising my eyes to meet Ibrahim's confused ones as he stared at me, leaned against the doorframe.

"What's wrong?" He questioned.

"Jamila was admitted to the hospital." I  responded wiping my mouth with the small towel before throwing it in my hamper turning to him.

"Is she okay?" He knitted his brows.

"They haven't seen the doctor yet." I sighed fixing my veil.

"I can drive you there." Ibrahim offered making me smile as I reached up to peck his cheek.

"Thank you, I can manage. You said you were going to the therapist, remember?" I recalled as he nodded his head in agreement, regarding me with a stern face.

"Drive carefully." He murmured.

I arrived at the hospital in less than ten minutes driving a bit faster than usual. I slammed the door shut hearing the locks clock as soon as I did, rushing towards the double doors.

"Please where's Jamila Nagogo?" I asked.

The receptionist's exhausted eyes fell on me when I appeared, my expression frantic. I drummed my fingers on the table impatiently waiting for her reply. Her eyes raked my slightly disheveled appearance before pinning her eyes on the pc sitting meters away from my hands.

"Sixth floor. Room 408." She stated almost robotic. I nodded my head walking towards the elevators which were already occupied. A girl and two boys wearing identical uniforms came to stand beside me also waiting for the elevator.

The door slid open just as the younger girl made a move to walk in the same time I did. I paused turning to her only to find one of the boys pulling her back, regarding me with a polite nod.

I flashed him a grateful smile getting on the elevator and they followed soon after, talking between themselves. It wasn't a surprise how the younger girls are pretty disrespectful towards people older than them, but I respected how her friend behaved.

"When did Maryam say she was leaving?" I heard a deep voice ask in a low tone.

"I can't count how many times we repeated the same thing." I heard the girl sigh exasperatedly earning a chuckle from the other.

The doors slid open not too long after and I stepped out, walking down the hallway meeting my family scattered around the waiting room, some were sitting on chairs whilst some paced worriedly. The sound of my flats clacking against the floors caught their attention as most heads snapped to me.

"Sumaya." I heard Nadia mumble as she embraced me in a bone crushing hug, her shoulders quaking with each sob that escaped her lips.

I met my mothers and sisters eyes as they regarded in a rather cold way. I walked Nadia towards a vacant chair guiding her to sit before squatting in front of her, holding her limp hands.

"She's going to be okay, stay strong for her in the meantime. Okay?" I assured as she opened her bloodshot eyes to look into mine.

"Okay." She sniffled pulling my hand gesturing to the chair next to her to sit. I followed her demands going to sit beside her, fiddling with the fingers scattered around my fingers, something I usually did when I'm anxious.

It wasn't long before a doctor walked out of the operating room, her expression blank but the dark bags under her eyes giving away just how exhausted she was. Her eyes jumped fork one person to another as she took off her gloves.

"Family of Jamila Nagogo?" She addressed causing Nadia to jump up from her seat to hear about her sisters health.

"We're her family." Nadia said shakily.

"Would you mind stepping into my office for a minute?" She asked straightforwardly which seemed to offended some of our family as they rolled their eyes muttering under their breaths.

"As long as I know what's going on." Nadia responded as she moved closer to me, clutching my hands tightly

I closed the door to the office going to sit on the chairs placed in front of the desk, my legs moving agitatedly as the doctor sat straight, leaning her hands on the desk, expression serious.

"Jamila is suffering from a musculoskeletal condition which was sustained from blunt trauma." The doctor broke the news earning a painful gasp from Nadia as she placed her hand over her mouth.

"Blunt trauma usually happens when your head has sustained serious injuries. She always had the condition but the blunt trauma quickened the pace of the condition." She added.

"Is she going to be okay?" Nadia croaked out. The doctor's eyes averted to her table for a moment and I knew there was a huge chance that wasn't happening.

"She'll be awake, but she'll suffer back and neck pain, the first stage of the musculoskeletal condition. But she'll be bedridden most of the time." She explained and I felt a stab of anguish in my chest.

"Are there treatments she has to undergo?" I asked as he eyes fell on me.

"There are treatments she has to undergo which are physical or occupational therapy. We use splint also to immobilize the affected joint and allow healing. But the treatment spikes her stress to a ninety percent, which makes the treatment highly dangerous but we have our specialists coming." She responded taking off her glasses whist Nadia's sobs filled the room.

"What can we do in the meantime?" I ask desperately.

"We could reduce stress through relaxation and biofeed techniques, reducing workload and getting adequate rest, using heat and cold and acupuncture or acupressure. She will have a change of sleeping patterns and would regularly complain about her body aching. We'll prescribe the injections which is best for her condition." She flashed me a weak smile, and I couldn't help but return it appreciating the small gesture.

"We have treated these cases before. It's something we excel in. You have nothing to worry about." She assured earning a nod from me as I placed my hand on Nadia's quaking shoulders.

"Thank you doctor." I thanked.

"You can call me Hadiza." She offered.