The days in the Shaikh household passed slowly, like the pages of an old book left unread. Mahenoor had retreated further into herself, her silence becoming heavier with each passing day.

The sun had barely risen when Nazia entered Mahenoor's room with a tray of breakfast. She carefully set it down on the small table and looked at her daughter, who was curled up on the edge of her bed, staring at the far wall.

"Mahenoor beta, eat a little, please." Nazia said softly.

Mahenoor didn't respond. Her face, pale and thin, reflected the weight of her emotions.

"Your father is also worried. Why are you taking on so much grief at such a young age? Allah will make everything better." Nazia tried again, sitting beside her. She reached out to smooth Mahenoor's hair, but Mahenoor turned her face toward the wall.

"Ammi, why do you worry about me?" Mahenoor whispered finally, her voice barely audible. "I am fine....I am absolutely fine."

Nazia shook her head as tears pooled in her eyes. "Beta, This is not something that will fix itself. You stay silent everyday, you don't laugh, you don't talk to anyone. How will life go on like this?"

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of birds chirping outside the window. Nazia stood up, brushing away her tears. "I will send zikra to sit with you."

Mahenoor didn't protest. She stayed where she was, her hands clasped tightly as if holding onto something invisible—something fragile.

Across the city, Omar sat on the balcony of his home, the guitar resting against his knee. He strummed absentmindedly, a sad melody filling the morning air. Rabia watched him from afar, her heart aching for her son.

Rabia walked up to him gently. "Omar," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He stopped playing and looked up at her, a faint smile on his face. "Yes, Ammi."

Rabia sighed, sitting down beside him. " Beta, how long will you keep hiding your feelings? Why don't you tell Mahenoor about your pain?"

Omar looked away, the smile vanishing from his face. "Ammi, her heart beats for someone else. Her pain is so deep that my feelings feel insignificant in front of them. I don't want to burden her with my emotions."

Rabia placed her hand over his. "But beta, your pain is also real. Don't you think sometimes being with someone is just a duty, not love?"

Omar shook his head. "Ammi, standing by her side is the biggest duty of my love. I don't want anything else."

Rabia's eyes welled up with tears as she hugged her son. "May Allah (SWT), give you patience and help you in this test, my child."

Omar closed his eyes, Letting the pain settle deep within him. He wished for nothing more than to see Mahenoor smile again, if it was never for him.

The afternoon sun climbed higher, bathing the shaikh household in its warm glow. Inside Mahenoor's room, the silence was interrupted only by the faint ticking of the clock. Zikra and Sanober sat on the floor, talking softly as Mahenoor rested her head against the headboard.

"Appi, Come, let's sit on the veranda for a while. It will refresh your mood too." Zikra suggested, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Mahenoor shook her head slightly. "No, I feel fine here."

Sanober exchanged the worried glance with Zikra. Before they could say anything, Mahenoor suddenly flinched, clutching her chest. Her breathing grew erratic, her face turning pale as sweet beaded on her forehead.

"Appi, Appi what happened?" Zikra panicked, rushing to her side.

Mahenoor gasped for air, her hands trembling. "I...I can't Breath..."

Sanober ran toward the door, screaming, "Ammi, Abba! Come fast."

Within moments, Nazia, Sameer, and other family members gathered outside Mahenoor's room. Zohra begum, recited prayers under her breath, her hands shaking as she reached for her tasbeeh.

"Mahenoor beta, takes Allah's name!" Nazia cried, kneeling beside her daughter. "Sameer call the doctor fast!"

Sameer's hand shook as he pulled out his phone, dialing frantically. "Hello, doctor. Come and see my daughter, her condition has worsened."

Imran and Tariq, helped lift her slightly, trying to calm her down.

"Mahenoor beta, just take deep breaths." Tariq said gently, his own voice unsteady.

Words of Mahenoor's Condition spread quickly. That evening, Omar received a call from Zoya.

"Bhai, Mahenoor Appi's health has worsened a lot." Zoya said, her voice trembling. "She didn't eat anything even Yesterday. Now, A doctor has been called to the house."

Omar felt his heart drop. "I am going right now." He said quickly, grabbing his keys.

"Bhai, Abbu has forbidden you to go. He says the family needs time." Zoya added hesitantly.

Omar paused for a long moment. "Zoya, I have to go. I cannot see Mahenoor like this. She's not alone."

Without waiting for anyone, Omar drove straight to Mahenoor's house, his mind clouded with worry.

By the time, Omar arrived, the house was quieter. The doctor had left after giving Mahenoor a sedative to calm her. Omar hesitated at the front door before Zikra opened it, surprised to see him.

"Omar Bhai? You are here?"

"How's Mahenoor?" Omar asked urgently.

Zikra looked down, her eyes brimming with tears. "She is sleeping now. The doctor said she needs to rest."

Omar nodded, his gaze shifting toward the living room where the family sat, exhausted and emotionally drained. He stepped inside, exchanging a solemn gaze with Nazia and Sameer.

Sameer stood up and walked to him. "Omar beta, why have you come here?"

"Sameer uncle, I had to come when I heard about Mahenoor. She is my friend, and i have come to pray for her." Omar replied softly.

Sameer Sighed and patted Omar's shoulder. "Your being here gives us comfort, beta."

Later that evening, when the house fell quiet, Omar sat in the living room, the sound of a clock echoing in his ears. He picked up his tasbeeh, whispering softly under his breath.

"Ya Allah, Mahenoor ko sehat aur sukoon de. Woh jis dard se guzar rahi hai, usse dur karde. Woh bas thik ho jaye."

(O Allah, grant Mahenoor health and peace. Take away the pain she is  going through. Just let her be fine.)

Tears slipped down his face as he prayed, his hands trembling.

Omar sat with his head bowed, his hands tightly clutching the tasbeeh. Every whispered prayer carried the weight of his emotions, the pain he had held inside for years. His voice was low but steady, as though talking directly to Allah (SWT.)

"Ya Allah, agar yeh uska imtehan hai, toh usse himmat de. Agar yeh uska dard hai, toh us dard ko door karde. Mujhse uski yeh halat dekhi nahi ja rahi."

(O Allah, If this is her test, then give her strength. If this is her pain, then take it away. I cannot bear to see her like this.)

Nazia quietly stepped into the living room and watched him for a moment. Her heart swelled with gratitude and sadness. Here was a young man, quietly praying for her daughter with such sincerity, yet hiding his own feelings so deeply.

She walked up to him and softly called his name. "Omar beta."

Omar looked up quickly, brushing a hand across his face to wipe his tears. "Ji, Aunty?"

Nazia sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Tumhe yaha dekh kar mujhe sukoon milta hai. Tum Mahenoor ke liye jitna sochte ho, woh meri beti ki naseeb ki Dua hai."

(Seeing you here gives me comfort. The way you care for Mahenoor is a prayer for my daughter's destiny.)

Omar looked down, his voice almost breaking. "Woh meri dost hai, Aunty. Uska thik hona zaruri hai. Me sirf Allah se yeh maang raha hu."

(She is my friend, Aunty. It is important for her to get better. I am only asking this from Allah(SWT).)

Nazia smiled faintly, though sadness lingered in her eyes. "Tumhari Duaon ka asar zarur hoga, beta. Allah (SWT)  sab sunte hai."

(Your prayers will surely have an effect, beta. Allah(SWT) listens to everything.)

Omar nodded, but his heart felt heavy. He had no right to want more—only Mahenoor's happiness.

Meanwhile, upstairs in her room, Mahenoor stirred in her sleep. The sedatives had calmed her, but the unease lingered. Her dreams were fragmented and hazy. She saw flashes of  faces–hers, Asjad's and then darkness.

Her body jerked awake suddenly, her breath quickening again. The rooms was dimly lit by a single lamp on the table, casting faint shadow on the wall. Mahenoor sat up, clutching her knees to her chest. Her head felt heavy, her heart burdened.

"Why do I miss all this?" She whispered to herself, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Zikra who had been sleeping on the couch nearby, heard the rustling and immediately got up. "Appi?" She said softly, walking over to her.

Mahenoor quickly wiped her tears and tried to smile faintly. "You were  sleeping , right? I didn't want to disturb you."

Zikra sat beside her and hugged her tightly. "How long will you hide from me, Appi? I am your sister. I know how much pain you are carrying."

Mahenoor's tears broke free again as she clung to her sister. "What should I do, Zikra? I try so hard to forget everything, but the burden of those memories does not let me live."

Zikra whispered soothing words. "Allah( SWT) will make everything right, Appi. You have no idea how much it hurts me to see you like this, you have to be strong for yourself."

Sanober entered quietly, hearing the hushed voices. Seeing Mahenoor in this state made her throat tighten, but she composed herself and sat down beside them.

"Mahenoor, we all are with you." Sanober said softly, her voice firm. "You don't have to fight alone, along with Allah(SWT), we are also with you, always."

Mahenoor looked at her sisters, their sincerity wrapping her like a warm blanket. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel their presence.

✨

The following morning brought a strange stillness to the Shaikh household. Sunlight crept through the curtains, but the house remained quiet, each family member wrapped in their thoughts.

Downstairs Nazia and Sameer sat together, quietly sipping tea. Their faces looked older, worn with worry for their daughter.

"Nazia, I think we should take Mahenoor somewhere. Staying inside the house is worsening her condition." Sameer said softly.

Nazia nodded her eyes red from a sleepless nights. "Yes, i was thinking the same. But she doesn't agree to go anywhere. Her heart is broken, Sameer. It will take time to heal her."

Sameer placed his hand over hers. "Time and patience. Allah(SWT) will help us."

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Imran opened it and found Omar standing there, his parents, Rabia and Ahmed Ali  beside him, along with Zoya and Fazal Ahmed.

"Assalamualaikum." Ahmed Ali greeted warmly, through his face held concern.

"Walaikum Assalam, please come in." Imran replied, stepping aside to let them in.

Rabia's face reflected her worry as she spoke to Nazia. "Nazia, we heard that Mahenoor isn't well. We thought of visiting you, checking on her and praying for her."

Nazia smiled faintly, gesturing them to sit. "Jazakallah (Thank you), Rabia. Your presence here gives us comfort."

Omar stood quietly, his gaze flickering toward the stairs. He wanted to ask about Mahenoor, but words failed him.

Fazal Ahmed, said softly. "Beta, prayers will continue in our home too. May Allah ease everyone's pain."

Later in the afternoon, Omar stood in the garden outside Mahenoor's house, staring at the flowers she used to care for. He remembered the days when she would water them, smiling softly as though finding peace in their simplicity.

Zikra found him there and approached gently. "Omar bhai, Mahenoor appi wants to meet you."

Omar turned to her, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Is she okay?"

Zikra nodded faintly. "She's a little better."

Omar followed her inside and into Mahenoor's room. The sight of her, sitting by the window with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, Pierced his heart. Her face looked tired, and her eyes held stories of sleepless nights.

"Assalamualaikum Mah." Omar said softly, stepping in.

Mahenoor turned slowly, managing a faint smile. "Walaikum Assalam Omar." 

Omar sat on the chair beside her bed. "How are you?"

"Just as I look." She replied, a ghost of humor in her tone. "Why did you come here?"

Omar hesitated before answering. "To pray for you."

Mahenoor looked down at her hands, tears threatening to spill again. "Omar, kabhi kabhi lagta hai ke meri zindagi sirf dard ka dusra naam hai."

(Omar, sometimes it feels like my life is just another name of pain.)

Omar's heart clenched, but he maintained his calmed. "Zindagi kabhi kabhi imtehan leti hai. Lekin yeh bhi sach hai ke Allah(SWT) kabhi apne bande ko akela nahi chodta."

(Life sometimes test us. But it's also true that Allah(SWT) never leaves his people alone.)

Tears finally slipped from her eyes. "Aapko lagta hai Allah(SWT) kabhi mujhe maaf kerenge? Yeh dard kyu diya mujhe?"

(Do you think Allah(SWT) ever forgive me? Why has he given me this pain?)

Omar's voice was steady, though his eyes glistened. "Allah(SWT) humse sirf Sabr aur Dua maangte hai, Mahenoor. Yeh dard aapko aur mazboot banayega. Aap socho, aapke dard ke liye kitne log Dua kar rahe hai."

(Allah (SWT) only asks us for patience and prayers, Mahenoor. This pain will make you stronger. Think about how many people are praying for you because of your pain.)

Mahenoor looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his words. She nodded faintly, her voice barely audible. "Shukriya, Omar." (Thank you, Omar.)

Omar smiled softly, though his heart broken again. "Hamesha." (Always.)

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