SAMEERAH'S P.O.V

Miserable. Miserable is what I am. One whole week and baba won't even let me see him. We talk on the phone all the time but you know it's not the same. I miss eating with him, bantering with him, I miss him.

I've cried a lot. I cry when I remember Hammad. I cry when I remember Aisha and I cry when I remember my baby. My hands instinctively moved to my stomach. Why are all these things happening? We were good. We were doing just fine. This is all my fault. If I had let him fire Aisha, it would have been different. But ofcourse, I had to "give her a chance" and now we are all paying a price. A heavy price.

How could she do that to me? What kind of person will do that to another? She has successfully sent me to the hospital twice. Allah ka isan mun.

My phone rings. No caller id so I ignore it. I'm in no mood to speak to anyone at the moment. They called again, and again, and again. The persistence was annoying so I wiped my tears away and picked up the call.

" good afternoon ma'am. This is Michealson Frank from the Nigerian road safety Corp. You husband has been involved in car crash. I'm sorry but he died on the spot. I got this phone off him I called you" And just like that, my whole world came crashing down. It was as if my heart was viciously ripped out of my chest. I was numb.

Instinctively, i dressed and rushed out the back door. Ignoring the driver's protest, I took baba's car and sped of. For some reason, the tears won't fall. My heart was heavy but my tears won't pour. It's like I was waiting for confirmation. It can be true right?

I'm dreaming. Or hallucinating. Please God let me be hallucinating.

All the while, my heart was beating a tattoo against my ribcage. I tear slipped down my face.

I arrived at the hospital in fifteen minutes and quickly located my caller. I hurriedly walked behind the doctor and the corp marshal as they took me to the morgue to see my husband's corpse. Inalillahi wa inna ilaihirrajiun. Please Hammad no. You can't do this to me. Tears began streaming down my face as my heart squeezed painfully.

He was lying tall on a stretcher with a white cloth covering him up entirely. I shattered. I screamed, hoping to get oxygen back into my lungs because breathing became like sucking concrete through a straw.

Inalillahi wa inna ilaihirrajiun. I wheezed as I walked up to the stretcher and lifted the cloth.

His face was battered but not unrecognisable since most of the blood had been cleaned. He was still and emotionless. He looked like he was in a deep sleep and a light tap could wake him up.

But the man is dark instead of caramel. He has a clean shave instead of a beard. He is bald in contrast to Hammad's dense curls. This man is most definitely not Hammad. The relief that teared through me is not quantifiable.

"Excuse me, there's some kind of mix up. This isn't m-my husband " I stammered the last part. Both men stared at me like I was growing an extra head.

"But the phone-" the marshal started

"Must have belonged to the second man. The one in the I.C.U"

"I.C.U?" I ask.

"Yes. The second victim is in the I.C.U" you can't imagine the speed I took off with but stopped and turned.

"What room number?"

"225" mine was 230. I opened the door and he was lying lifeless if not for the rise and fall of his chest. His right leg was up in a sling, he had a neck brace, a large bandage around his bare chest, a cast on his left arm and tubes in his mouth and nose. A gasp punctuated my breath at the sight of him. My heart squeezed more at the thought of what his going through.

I walked up and kissed his face multiple time. My heart was still going like a hummingbird. Ya Allah thank you thank you thank you! I have never been so happy to see an injured man. Injured but alive.

I called his mum and told her to come to the hospital and ended the call before she could attack me with questions. I didn't want to tell her over the phone.

She arrived in ten minutes.

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihirrajiun" she sobs as she bursts into the room followed by Abubakar. She walks up to us at the bed and takes hold of Hammad's hand. He didn't respond. She wept. As did I, as did Abubakar.

"They called me and told me about thirty minutes ago so I came here straight "

"Does you mum know?" She asks.

"No. I snuck out " she smiles at me but returns her attention to her battered son. My battered husband.

The doctor came in moments later with a file.

"Next of kin please?" He asks and I signalled, wiping my tears.

"I need to sign this please so we can proceed to surgery"

"Surgery?!" We both ask.

"Yes. We've put him out of danger but there are shards of glass we need to take out." I quickly signed the papers and the proceeded to take him out of the room into the theatre. I waited at the door. I've never seen Abubakar so wordless.

"There's no need to worry ma'am. He will be alright " I nodded in appreciation. At this point, I was all out of tears.

***

HAMMAD'S P.O.V

Beep
beep
beep

I opened my eyes to a dozing Sameerah. She was sitting in a chair with her head on the bed next to my arm which i couldn't move. She looks tired and still sick. Her eyes are puffy, like she's been crying and she has lost some weight. I can actually see her clavicle! That is not acceptable!

My heart squeezed as I look at her. How did they let her out? She's clearly still sick! I swear all these people. She sighed heavily in her sleep and for some reason, it made me smile.

I turned a little to see my mum on her praying mat on the other side of the room. Hospital room. I looked down and almost didn't recognise myself. Canula, I tube I'm my mouth and nose making me uncomfortable as hell. Blood pressure and heart monitors beeping too damn loudly. I already have a pounding heard ache fee sabilillah. There was also something constricting my neck movement. What the hell happened?

My mum lifts her head and sees me. She hurries to me.

"My son..."

"Salamualaikum mama " she smiles with tears in her eyes.

"How are you my boy? How are you feeling? Let me wake Sam-"

"No mama. Dan Allah let her sleep. She looks so sick. Why did you people let her come here?"

"I don't know. Ita ta Kira ni ( she called me here).

"Get the doctors. Please they should get another bed in here" Mama nods and leaves. I tried to sit up but my body wouldn't cooperate. After three attempts, I gave up. After fifteen seconds of telling my mum to let Sameerah sleep, i wanted to see her. Awake

"Sameerah. " i called but she didn't reply. Her neck will hurt.

"Baby girl" I say a little louder. She jerks and opened her eyes. She jumped when she saw me making me smile. She comes up and kisses my face. I move to touch her but no. Broken bones.

"Oh my God Hammad. I'm so glad you're awake. On my God I love you" she rushes out with tears in her eyes and her forehead against mine. Get me out of this shit I need to hug her!

Mama came back with the doctors shortly after.

"Welcome back sir. You were away for long" how long?

"A week" he says reading my mind. Damn.

"Where is the bed I requested for?" I ask.

"Ana kawowa( they are bringing it)" mama says.

"Bed?" Sameerah asks. Oh right, sleeping beauty.

"Yes. You need to rest. You're clearly still sick and you've been in a chair for a week" she smiles making me smile back. God I missed her so much it painful.

"So what happened?" I ask.

****

These are dark times. But we will get through them in sha Allah. I was healing well alhamdulillah. Most of my casts are gone after four weeks. Sameerah was sleeping next to me in her bed. She vomited blood once but they said its because of the ulcer in her stomach which will heal completely with time. I can't believe I'm back in this blasted hospital so soon.

After all these shenanigans, we are going on a vacation. We deserve it. You need to see the drugs Sameerah and I were ingesting on a daily. Abun tausayi wallahi.

Kabir bursts into the room breathing hard. Did he run up the stairs?

"They found Aisha "

Well shit. My day just got better.

A/N

I'M ON A ROLL TODAY! Double update. I swear writing these chapters cause me pain...

Anywhooo vote and comment!