Ammarah's POV

Love is the answer- Natalie Taylor

"You really are doing this? Rahma looked at me weirdly

I laughed and nodded "I am"

"And does he know?

I jumped off the stool and clasped my hands "No he doesn't. I'm planning to surprise him" I grinned widely and watched as her eyes moisten

"Are you okay? I questioned

She nodded and engulfed me in a hug "You have never been this excited ever since I know you. Rayyan is amazing for making you such a happy person"

I untangled from her hug and smiled at her "Excuse me for a minute"

She nodded and I walked out to our backyard. I found a good spot and sat down watching the grasses.

Am I now a happy person? I questioned it in my head.

Yes I am. I have noticed the changes as well, the way I type with excitement. The way I squeal and jump at the smallest of things. The way smiles get out and laughter escapes. The other day, I even stared at the moon and felt good standing beneath it and marveling at its beauty. I'm turning poetic.

Yet thinking about my life, how everything use to be my parent and their lack of attention made me reason things. These changes weren't gifted to me, they were there all along. Which means I could have still laughed, squealed, watch the moon and smile uncontrollably if I had directed my camera at the right image.

Rayyan didn't change me, Rahma is wrong. Rayyan changed my perspective, I changed my focus from the gloom in my home to him and my perspective changed. I don't even worry about my mom anymore or cry at night over my dad's death or their betrayal.

It's almost like I live through moments and each moment is entirely consumed by Rayyan and my smiles. I'm living happily, intentionally without even knowing it.

At this point, where my main goal is to inform Rayyan about the art exhibition I'm organizing for him, even the idea of finding my real parent got shifted to the side.

And that, scares me.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

I walked with a skip to my steps and rounded up the small rocky road that leads to the riverside that Rayyan and I do our painting session.

Rayyan's back came into view as he sat on a rock reading Al-Quran. I walked towards him with a big smile and tilted my head looking at him from the side. When he turned and stared at me, a warm smile graced his face and he gently closed the Quran keeping it in his pocket.

"You're here" Rayyan said and shifted for me to sit.

"Yes I am" I sat down next to him and kept my bag beside him then looked up at his worried face "What is wrong? You look worried" I pointed out and he shook his head

"I want to tell you something"

My heart sank as all sort of thoughts swirled in my head. Is he ending our poetry session? Is he leaving to some place? Is he ending our friendship? If what we have can be called that.

"I also have something to tell you" I said watching his expression

"You do?

I nodded

"Then go ahead"

I shook my head "You say yours first"

He shook his head too "I insist, you go first"

"No" I replied pinning him with a firm look.

He sighed and said "I want you to please promise that you will understand"

This time, my heart beat picks up faster "Understand what?

He shook his head "Promise me you will understand Ammarha"

I gulped tightly "Okay"

He cleared his throat "I lied to you"

My chest squeezed and I stared at him "What?

"Well not really lie but I omitted the truth from you and I'm sorry"

I glared at him tightly "What did you lie about?

He looked down at his feet "I am not a sales guy"

A lump, so hard and big obstructed my throat as my chest heaved in pain. He lied? My Rayyan who I thought I knew isn't a sales guy. If he isn't a sales guy then who is he? A kidnapper, an armed robber?

"I saw you in your spice shop. So it isn't yours? I questioned tightly

He shook his head "Well it is mine but I am not the sales guy"

My brows pinched together "How do you mean?

"I mean I own the shop but not the one who guards it. Someone else does that. The other day I saw you walking towards the shop and the sales guy was praying so I decided to fill in and well..."

I stared at him "But you said the spice shop is all you have"

Rayyan shook his head again "The spice business. I said the spice business is all I have. I have spice shops across northern Nigeria, spice farm and a spice processing company"

I breathed out "So you are not a sales guy. You are the director"

Rayyan laughed "Something like that although my assistant mostly fill in these days"

I furrowed my brows "But why come to the market when you have a company to run"

He smiled "I prefer coming to the market. And the business is doing good, my assistant is monitoring the exports, imports, wholesales, retails and every new established shop in any state or region"

"You don't like what you do? I asked with a brow lifted

"I love the spice business but I love our painting session more. It is a priority business ma'am"

"Wow" I breathed out "So you left your business for our painting classes"

He laughed " I told you someone is watching over it and I enjoy our sessions more"

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth in the first place then?

His face became soft "I really like who I am with you Ammarah and I didn't want to loose it.

I narrowed my eyes "Who are you?

"Someone who is free. I am suddenly someone with dreams. I am someone who could dare to dream"

I didn't push it or demand an explanation for what he said and there was silence for some time "so you're a rich man then"

"I am well doing"

"You have a car if not cars but took a taxi with me the other day"

He grinned "I was a sales guy remember"

I shook my head and laugh "A humble sales guy I see"

Hesitantly he asked "Are you angry?

I shook my head "I don't care who you are or what your net is worth Rayyan. You're still the same person to me"

He nodded with a smile muttering a "Thank you" and then asked "You have something to say as well?

I grinned so hard he started to smile back

"I am organising you an art exhibition!

"What! He exclaimed with a shocked expression

I tuned down my excitement "Aren't you happy?

"No of course I am. I just didn't see it coming"

"Well get your painting ready. we are going to show them off and make money. And since you are rich and all, you should invite your friends and everyone you know knows the worth of art"

Rayyan smiled and whispered "Why?

I smiled back "It's the least I can do when you're out here trying to search for my real parent Rayyan"

Rayyan nodded "You have no idea how much this means to me Ammarah. Thank you and May Allah reward you with Jannah"

My heart got fulled up with yet again another of his duas "And you too Rayyan, and you too"

"So I should get all my paintings that is? Rayyan questioned

"Yes, both old and new"

"Would every painting be sold?

I shook my head "Some will only be looked at"

He smiled "Because I have a painting that is too precious to be sold and not only glanced at briefly"

I mirrored his smile "I also have a painting too precious to be sold"

His eyes widen "You finished it?

I nodded with a grin "I did"

"Can I see it?

"Not until the exhibition day"

He chuckled "Fair enough. So are we going to paint today?

"Why not a story of one of the prophets?

We both grinned at something that might gradually become our tradition.

"Which prophet?

I placed a hand under my chin in a thinking posture then looked up with a smile "Prophet Yunus "

He smiled "Let's get started"

I adjusted my hijab and watched him as he started the story of Prophet Yunus (AS). The prophet who got swallowed by a whale because he angrily left the people of Nineveh who had immoral ways of life and had to admit he's among the wrong doers before Allah let him out.

And like every other time, it made me think about repentance. About how much we do and how far we go before we are able to turn back. How many times have we lied and do things because we think it isn't a sin or because we think it is justified.

Rayyan omitted the truth from me, and claims it is justified. He has a reason, but don't we all. We all find a reason to back up things we do that isn't right.

Isn't that what my parent did? Isn't that what I'm doing right now to my mom?

I wonder just how much of justified omitted truth Rayyan is hiding from me

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^