The Shards of Silence

Chapter 3

"Jabbar, wake up," Amara called out from a distance. "Jabbar!" Amara exclaimed, "It's getting late!"

“Just a little more,” Jabbar replied in a sleepy tone. “Give me 5 more minutes.”

Amara let out a sigh and dropped the utensil on the kitchen counter. She strode towards the bedroom, a glass of water in hand. “Jibi, you're going to make us both late,” she declared, standing in front of the bed with one hand holding the water and the other on her waist. 'I'm warning you, if you don’t wake up, I'm going to splash you. I'm serious.”

Jabbar, lying on his back, beheld the most beautiful sight of God’s creation with his left eye. He smiled and whispered, “Don’t you know how much I love you?”

"You're not getting away with that flirtatious smirk of yours. We need to get ready," Amara responded, a soft smile lingering on her face, accentuating the gentle curve of her lips and the warmth in her eyes. "I'm going to finish preparing breakfast soon, so get up and get ready," she continued, gracefully placing the glass on the bedside table.

As she headed back, Jabbar gently grabbed her left arm and tugged her towards him. Amara fell onto the bed beside Jabbar, and as she sat there, he wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his head on her lap. “A little bit longer, please,” whispered Jabbar, seeking solace in the comfort of her lap.

Amara loved the child that resided in Jabbar. That's what she fell in love with—a man who is both loving and caring, with a soft heart. She stroked his hair with a gentle movement of her right hand and planted a quick peck on Jabbar's cheek. “Just get ready, Jibi.”

Jabbar turned around and watched her leave. All he could think about was how fortunate he had been with her being a part of his life. Since the last rain of May, they had spent nearly four months together as a married couple, and deep down, he wished for time to stop so they could grow old together.

After the proposal, Jabbar excitedly called his parents to share the good news. He believed his Anne would be the first to bless them, but the unfortunate happened. Both Amara’s and Jabbar’s parents disapproved of their union. Jabbar, a nonpracticing Muslim, and Amara, a nonpracticing Christian, believed that their love transcended religious differences and was a reason enough to spend life together. Without wasting a moment’s time, they got officiated and became a legal couple for the world to know.

Jabbar rose from the bed and made his way to the kitchen. There, he leaned against the fridge, observing Amara covered in batter and flour. Sunlight streamed in through the window above the sink, casting a warm glow on her brown hair, which shimmered like ripe wheat on a summer's day. As Amara stretched on tiptoes to reach the cereal box, Jabbar moved closer and pulled it out.

"Thank you. I'm glad you're up," Amara responded to Jabbar's action with a relieved smile. The air was filled with the scent of scrambled eggs, sweet pancakes, and syrup, accompanied by a hint of love. Jabbar stepped closer to Amara and used a kitchen towel to wipe the batter off her forehead.

“You are so clumsy, you know that?” Jabbar smirked, teasing her gently.

Amara huffed at the comment and handed Jabbar the spatula she was using. "In that case, I'll go sit peacefully at the dining table, and Mr. Perfect, why don't you finish cooking?" Amara responded in a playful manner.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" Jabbar quickly added, seeking to ease the flirtatious anger Amara showed. Her cheeks always turned cherry red whenever she stood in front of heat, and that was Jabbar’s weakness. He could never resist the alluring spell Amara had on him.

"Jibi, you say that to me every morning and every night," Amara whispered, her eyes beginning to sparkle as she looked up into Jabbar’s hazel eyes.

Jabbar held her close with his left arm, leaving no space for even air to pass between them. With a gentle touch, he caressed Amara’s chin with his right hand, drawing closer until their lips met in a tender embrace, savoring the soft, crimson sweetness of her kiss. In that moment, they both forgot about the world around them. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was their intimate love.

Amara caught a whiff of burning and knew something was amiss. “Jabbar! The eggs are burning. Let me go. You need to go and get ready!' she screamed, pushing him back with her left arm. “I've laid out your clothes, so quickly take a shower while I serve your breakfast."

Jabbar lingered nearby, unwilling to leave her side. If it were up to him, he would spend every passing second of his life with his lovely wife.

"Jabbar, I'm leaving," Amara exclaimed as she put the keys in her purse. "I'm running late for my appointment. I'll meet you at dinner."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Jabbar quickly replied, poking his head out of the shower.

"I'll manage, Jibi. Just concentrate on your meeting," Amara responded as she stepped outside the apartment. "I love you!"

"Love you too," Jabbar responded, hearing the door close. After getting dressed, he sat at the table for a quick breakfast. There, he found a folded note weighed down by the fork. Jabbar quickly opened it and smiled as he read the message. It read, 'Best of Luck, Jibi. You will do great today,' followed by a little heart at the end.

At 7:50 a.m., Jabbar arrived at his office, feeling the weight of anticipation for the big day ahead. He had a meeting scheduled with one of the firm's most prestigious clients, a culmination of over a year's worth of dedication to the account. This presentation was his chance to prove his worth and potentially earn the title of Junior Accountant. Jabbar was determined to succeed; he had envisioned this victory for so long that he already had a dinner date planned in anticipation of good news.

At St. Vincent's Hospital in Greenwich Village, Amara anxiously awaited her test results. Deep down, fear gnawed at her; her family history was riddled with diseases, particularly those affecting females. Several relatives, including her aunt and grandmother, had battled ovarian cancer, and Amara couldn't shake the worry that her symptoms might indicate an early stage of the disease. She dreaded the thought of her time with Jabbar being limited by illness. Determined to address her concerns, she had booked a short-notice appointment with her family physician.

“Amara,” came in the doctor, “I have your results.”

Amara's complexion turned pallid, and instinctively, she began to pray to every deity she could summon, pleading for the chance to live a healthy life with the person she loved.

"Congratulations, Amara," said Dr. Stella, handing Amara her ultrasound. "Everything looks great, and there's nothing to worry about."

Filled with overwhelming joy, Amara jumped up from her seat and wrapped her physician in a tight hug. "I need to call Jibi and share this wonderful news," she exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement.

Amara rummaged through her purse and retrieved her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed Jabbar's number. She attempted to catch her breath as the call rang, but it went to voicemail. Undeterred, she dialed again, her heart pounding with anticipation. This time, Jabbar answered. "Jabbar?" Amara exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement as she struggled to contain her joy.

“Hey, Amara. I am still in a meeting. I will call you back in a short while. Love you,” and the call went dead. Amara glanced at the time; it was 8:35 a.m. For a brief moment, she forgot about the meeting and Jabbar's busy schedule. She was eager to share the news with him, but she realized it would have to wait a little longer.

"Sorry, it was my wife," Jabbar apologized to the room, meeting his boss's piercing gaze. After clearing his throat, he continued, "As I was saying, through meticulous tracking and strategic financial analysis, we've uncovered insights that can drive your business toward unprecedented success. If you take a look at the chart on page 4—"

The building shook violently, and moments later, the Boss's assistant rushed into the room. It felt as if a massive earthquake had struck the city of New York.

"Mr. Johnson," Janette uttered, her voice trembling as she struggled to maintain her composure, "You need to watch the news."

Reporter (with shock and disbelief visible in her tone) “….are some very very sketchy details reaching us here at Sky Center important enough to bring to you though at this early stage. We believe that a plane has crashed into the World Trade Center in New York that happened within the last few moments. No details at this stage as to what sort of plane it is. It could well be a large plane. We are hearing reports of a 737 not yet confirmed—”

Silence engulfed the room for a moment, and then everyone began frantically reaching for their phones. Amid the sense of commotion, no one quite knew what to do or how to react; all they knew was to call their loved ones and check their whereabouts. Jabbar was among them, desperately trying to reach Amara, but unable to get through. Frantically, he continued to dial her number, his heart pounding with fear. At 9:04 a.m., another shockwave rocked the city, intensifying the sense of panic and uncertainty.

Reporter (trembling, voice fraught with horror and confusion), “Oh, there’s another one. Another plane just hit. Oh my God, another plane has just hit another building, right into the middle of it explosion. Oh, my God, it's right in the middle of the building. And right now, it’s definitely on purpose because, it because it just flew straight into it. Oh, my God….I saw a plane go into the—”

In that moment, life flashed before Jabbar’s eyes. He knew Amara was near the World Trade Center, and in a state of shock and anxiety, he tried calling her once again. All he could hear was a computerized recording with no response from Amara. Drenched in tears, Jabbar’s heart felt the weight of despair as he feared the worst. He knew she was gone, but a glimmer of hope lingered in his heart. Perhaps she had found safety, hidden away somewhere amidst the chaos.

As he sat crumpled on the floor, weeping his heart out, his phone suddenly rang. With a surge of hope, he quickly flipped open the cell, and there, amidst the anguish and uncertainty, he saw a message from Amara.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you during your meeting, but I have something exciting to tell you." The phone rang once again, and Jabbar received another voice message, “Let’s meet up at 8 for dinner at our special place.”