I will soothe you and heal you
I will bring you roses
I too have been covered with thorns

- Rumi

☾

"You're soaked in the rain."

Mikael wipes the water droplets off Banafsha's eyebrows and looks at her. She's clutching the coat tightly to her body and her nails have turned blue from the cold. He quickly increases the heat in the car.

"I was waiting for the cab. The rain came out of no where. I really need to start carrying an umbrella all the time."

"What happened to your car?"

"Sold it and returned the money to lala. I couldn't bring myself to use it anymore."

He unzips his jacket to offer her and she holds his hand, stopping him.

"You're only in a shirt. You'll be cold."

He smiles and takes off the jacket. "Don't worry, I've a got a spare hoodie." He reaches into the backseat of his car and picks up the hoodie. "Warm yourself up."

"Well then, mind if I take the hoodie?" she asks gingerly.

He grins and shakes his head, slipping back on his jacket while Banafsha puts on his hoodie. He takes her soaked coat from her and puts it in the back seat.

"Looks good on you," he compliments and she smiles.

"Thank you, it's comfy." She nuzzles it. "And it smells of you."

"And what do I smell like?" he teases and she shrugs.

"Like Mikael."

He laughs. "And what's that like?"

"Like love."

His playfulness turn into a somber expression as he stares at her. She steals away her eyes from her, looking straight ahead instead, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Like love, huh?" He undoes his seat-belt and leans towards her. "Pray tell, what's love like?"

She cranes her neck towards him. "You're the poet here. You know better than me."

"Than let's just not use words. There are way too many of them for this single feeling to fit in a sentence." He puts his hand behind her head and pulls her closer, lowering his voice temptingly. "Unfathomable for human mind, isn't it, doctor?"

"Indeed," she whispers. "It's both a blessing and damnation. When you have it, you've the world. But when you lose it, it's ruination."

He studies her face, keen now, her words unsettling him. Her eyes are cold, distant, impenetrable. He doesn't know what she's thinking, but he knows something is out of place.

"Is something amiss, doctor?"

"I've something to discuss with you."

"I'm listening."

"How long before your class starts?"

"About three hours."

"Then can we have this talk over a coffee?" she requests softly.

"Of course." He kisses her forehead. "Anything else, malika zama (my queen)?"

Smile smiles fleetingly. "Buy me roses?"

He raises a surprised eyebrow. "Roses?"

"Yes, because I need to make peace with my past, present, and future. I've to accept that everything has flaws, but we need to appreciate the beauty in it before it withers away."

He searches her orbs for something, but they reflect nothing. He feels a glitch in his heart.

"You're talking strange today, doctor-- cryptically so. And it's worrying me."

She tilts her head and pecks his cheek. The action is so brief that it feels like a feather caress on his skin, but enough to ignite his nerves. Mikael stares at her, a little lost.

"Roses?" she requests again and he's unable to work his tongue, so he just nods and pulls away from her, putting the car in gear and driving towards the cafe.

Thirty minutes later, they're sitting at a table by the window with coffee cups and a bouquet of red roses between them. Banafsha stares outsides emptily and Mikael quietly sips his coffee, not interrupting her peace. From the terse pull of her features, he knows she's onto something. He lets her take her time.

A good while later, she turns to him and asks, "How's Zimal?"

"She's good."

"You've been regular with her check ups?"

"Yeah."

"Good," she says approvingly before her gaze becomes calculating and hard. "When are you admitting her for surgery?"

He shifts uneasily in his seat. Her question is sudden, and he feels embarrassed to tell her the truth, but he cannot lie to her either. Mikael lowers his eyes to his cup.

"When I've enough money to manage the expenses, doctor. I'm waiting for my paycheck."

"Mikael?"

He hums and she sighs.

"Look at me, please."

He does so reluctantly and she smiles at him comfortingly.

"What if I perform her surgery?"

He blinks, unsure if he has heard her right, and squints at her. "Pardon me?"

Banafsha licks her lips. "You don't have to pay my fee. That way you won't have to delay her surgery anymore."

"No," he refuses right away. "I'm capable of providing for my daughter. I cannot depend on anyone."

She purses and lips and looks at him icily. He starts getting anxious under her scrutiny and feels the urge to explain his position.

"I appreciate your offer, and I know your intentions are good. But doctor, this will make me feel very incapable of sustaining my child's basic need."

"Why?" She leans forward on the table, fixing his eyes. "I'm doing you no favor. You're my husband. Are you telling me we're not one family?"

"Of course not, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then why would it hurt your ego?" He notices her orbs becoming glossy. "I understand you want to own your responsibility, but can I not call Zimal my daughter too?"

Something in him breaks-- mostly certainly his heart, wailing within his ribcage like a newborn, as if it's a rebirth for him. As if Banafsha has blessed him life again.

"You definitely can, doctor."

"Then why won't you let me share your responsibility?"

He doesn't answer. He's unable too. Banafsha reaches forward across the table to hold his hand.

"Let me, please. But if you'd only be satisfied paying the complete bill, then give my fee to someone who's more in need than me-- someone who can save a life they love with it. As for me, no amount of money can get me what I want. So let me save what I can-- who I love. Because by God, I've no heart in me to lose anymore."

He frowns, not understanding the hidden meaning behind what she's saying, but his intuition tells him there's a secret that's crushing her. He's desperate to free her of her masked misery.

"Why do you talk like this? Tell me what's the matter, doctor."

But she just shakes her head and brushes off a tear before it could fall. "I want to make amendments for my deeds, Mikael. I've to start somewhere-- let it be my first step towards redemption. If I'm able to save a life in need, what profit is greater to me than that life saved? What is the comparison between the benefit of my earning and the pleasure of my Lord? He can reward me much greater than that." She swiftly locks her fingers with his. "Zimal is precious to you, ain't she? Don't delay it anymore please."

He swallows, glancing away, taking a moment to let her words sink in. Her thumb tenderly grazes his.

"You're a very capable man, Mikael. A responsible and caring father to Zimal. You've raised her so far on your own." The corners of her mouth pull up slightly. "I know you don't get paid from the academy for teaching religion. Your salary goes to charity. Then how could you think I'd judge you if you let me perform the surgery free of cost? I'm only following your example. You're an honorable man in my sight and I respect you very much for everything."

He exhales shakily, overwhelmed, completely bewitched by her. Banafsha looks at him, awaiting his response, and he's once more tongue-tied against her.

"So," he utters hesitantly, "does it mean I've won your trust back?"

She smiles openly and nods at him. "Would you trust me with our daughter now?"

Slowly, a smile creeps up his lips too and he strokes back her thumb. "Okay, doctor."

☾

"So remember Me; I will remember you. And be grateful to Me and do not deny Me. O you who have believed, seek help through patience and prayer. Indeed, Allah is with the patient," Mikael opens his lecture with the verses and scans the audience, his eyes coming to rest on Banafsha in the last row.

Despite his insistence to seat her in the front, she refused, saying she felt embarrassed from walking out on him during the first lecture she had attended of him. So she now sat out of everyone's sight alone in the back.

"Today, we'll be talking about Prophet Idris (Enoch)," he begins. "He was a Prophet of God, described as a very calm and collected individual-- a man who spoke very less, only if need be, and contemplated a lot. Patient, truthful, pious. A man of noble status and high rank, praised in the book of God multiple times."

He briefly goes over the objectives of his lesson through describing the characteristics of the Prophet and dives into the lecture as he weaves his story.

"Prophet Idris was the first man to ever write with a pen-- before him, it didn't exist. So he was the man who was taught by God how to write, and he then taught it to mankind. He's also described as the first man to fight for the innocent against injustice via making armies."

Mikael looks at Banafsha and finds her expression passive and unreadable. Today, she's different, in a way that disrupts his peace. She's acting odd and he cannot shake off the feeling she's hiding something from him. Though she has told him she trusts him, she's still not letting him share her burden with him.

He forces his gaze away from her and continues, "He was sent to stop people from all acts of corruption: murder, pride, adultery-- all such sins which were common at the time. So when he saw the evil spreading in his nation, he declared war against the corrupted. And as it has been the law of God, He's always with the righteous, Prophet Idris was given victory."

Mikael flips his notes. His mind won't stop buzzing. He tries to keep his focus but his attention keeps jumping back to Banafsha.

"One day," he narrates, "it was revealed to him from God that among those who followed him, all righteous people in the world, if anyone of them did a good deed, Prophet Idris would be rewarded for their good deeds too, every single one, every single day. This was the status given to him." He pauses and smiles. "Imagine the virtues he must've gathered. Countless. This was a blessing he couldn't thank God enough for. But he knew his death was approaching, and he wanted to collect more of the reward that God had promised him. Though how could he delay his death? It's predestined at a specific time and place."

Attentive silence greets him as he pauses again. He resumes after a few seconds.

"He had a friend among the angels, and so he asked this angel to put forth his request to the Angel of Death to delay his death-- to live a little bit longer and gather more virtues. So this angel carried prophet Idris on his wings up into the skies, to seek permission from the Angel of Death. And in the fourth heaven, they met the Angel of Death." His lips twitch at the irony in the turn of events. "The angel told the Angel of Death about the Prophet's request, and the Angel of Death asked where Idris was. To that, the angel told him he was upon his back. And the Angel of Death replied: how amazing." Mikael meaningfully looks across the people in the auditorium. "Guess what? The Angel of Death was astonished at finding Prophet Idris up in the fourth heaven. Why?"

He brings his mic closer to his mouth as he read from his notes, "The Angel of Death said: I was asked by God to cease Idris's soul in the fourth heaven, and I kept wondering how could I cease a soul that was on earth." He glances up. "And so, Prophet Idris passed away in the fourth heaven. This was his rank. God physically raised him so high up into the heaven and then took his soul."

A murmur of praises comes from the crowd and he give it a moment to settle before continuing.

"My mother, may God bless her, used to say: Mikael, death finds us even if we're locked up in strong forts from all reasons that might cause it. So instead of creating reasons in your life to fear it, create reasons to please your Lord that He shall have mercy upon you." He smiles sardonically, the nostalgia from old memories suddenly weighing upon him. "For nothing can save us from the will of God, and if He wills for a life to end, then it must end. Like it did for Prophet Idris in the fourth heaven. Death pulled him to itself at his appointed time and date right to the Angel of Death himself."

From his side eye, he makes out Banafsha getting up from her seat. Mikael halts his speech midway and looks in her direction. She doesn't meet his gaze, keeping her eye downcast, and walks out of the hall without making a noise. No one notices her leaving, everyone awaiting him to proceed with his lecture but he's too lost to put his jumbled thoughts in order, unsure of why she had to leave like this. He gets concerned and decides to go after her. In his current state of mind, he cannot finish his lecture anyway.

"Excuse me."

Mikael steps down podium and requests one of his colleagues to take over him who quickly comes forward to his rescue. He thanks him and rushes out of the hall after Banafsha.

The rain is still falling as heavily as before, creating loud sounds from whatever surfaces it strikes. He looks around frantically for her, having left his umbrella in the auditorium in his hurry, and spots her striding down the opposite road towards a stand for shelter. He jogs after her.

"Doctor?" Mikael calls her but she doesn't stop for him. He quickens his pace to get to her.

"Wait!" he tries again but she ignores him.

He finally catches up with her and grasps her arm, turning her around to face him.

"Doctor, stop--"

His words die in his throat as he looks at her face. Her eyes are red and he cannot make out if it's the tears or the rain running down her cheeks. But from her condition, it becomes clear to him that she's crying. And when she sobs, he feels a knife being embedded in his bosom.

"Banafsha?" He takes her face in his hands. His body trembles as all the fibers in his being are burnt and tormented at the raw ache in her orbs. "What happened?"

"You." She hiccups, her breath hitching in her throat, failing to speak properly. "You talked about death."

He blinks, perplexed, and she just cries more.

The rain drains them both and he takes off his jacket, putting it over head to protect her from it.

"Did I say something in the lecture that upset you?"

She sniffs and shakes her head. "The coincidence is cruel; it hurts me. As if life is telling me I'm helpless against God's will. As if it's teaching me no matter if I've the world, I cannot give it up to prevent the inevitable."

He frowns and wipes away her tears. "I don't understand. What do you mean by this, doctor?"

She throws her arms around his neck and buries her face in his shoulder. Mikael instantly hugs her to himself.

"Zoraiz," she mumbles between broken breaths.

"What happened to Zoraiz?" he asks apprehensively, his heart sinking before she can even reply.

"He's diagnosed with end stage lung cancer," she sobs. "My brother is dying, Mikael."

☾

Four more chapters to go.

I'm working on my new book, Khalifa, so updates might slow down a bit. But keep supporting and stick around with me.

Much love.

☾