SPLIT SOUL-

BOOK 1: ALCHEMY OF LOVE. Jamal fled Nur Afiya on a night that nearly split his soul open. A single betrayal; sharp, unforgivable, tore him from the city that raised him, from the people he called family, from the boy he once believed himself to be. He drifted through cities and seasons. He worked. He prayed. He carried the weight of his unseen scar with a quiet smile, each step marked by a pain only he could feel. Then, deep in his spiritual journey, a dream arrived- one that would rewire everything he thought he knew about love, soul connection, and destiny. A woman. Veiled. A stranger, yet not a stranger. Her presence was not memory; it was marrow. Written into his being long before birth. As years passed, the dreams grew more persistent, pulling at him with an urgency he could no longer dismiss as sleep. He realized it wasn’t just a dream; it was a call. A thread. A whisper from a destiny refusing to be silenced. And so, the thread drew him back to Nur Afiya. He returned quietly to the town he had fled years before, seeking answers from the Shaykh whose wisdom had once shattered and reshaped him. But he had barely been back an hour when the past clawed its way into the present. A call came from Al-Mahrak, the desert town that had sheltered him during his exile. It was his mentor, Ustaz Hamid; a second father, he'd came with news that struck like lightning: “Rofiya has returned.” Rofiya. His former lover. The one who had vanished years ago with a wealthy banker; without a word, without a trace. Not even her own father, Ustaz Hamid, had heard from her. Until now. And she was not alone. She returned with a sick child. A dying boy she claimed was Jamal’s. His blood, she insisted, was the child’s only hope. The Ustaz’s words fell like ice water on hot iron, and the ground beneath Jamal’s faith began to c***k. It wasn’t fatherhood that frightened him. It was the math. It didn’t add up. He and Rofiya had never been intimate; not in any way he could remember. They had shared moments, fragile trust, stolen hours. But never crossed that line. Yet now, his blood was needed to save a child he had no knowledge of. For the sake of the boy’s life, he agreed. But before the transfusion, a blood test was done. And in those tense moments, Rofiya broke. Trembling, eyes glassy with tears, she confessed: she had taken Jamal in his sleep. That forgotten morning. The unexplained ache they’d both dismissed years back. Now, it had a name. If her story was true, the boy should have been his. But the test results said otherwise. He was not the father. Not by blood. Not by science. Not by divine design. And that was only the beginning. Rofiya swore she had known only two men: Jamal, and the banker she had fled with. She was not promiscuous. Not reckless. Her father knew it. Jamal knew it. Yet the boy’s blood matched neither man’s. Nor did it match Rofiya’s. Let that truth settle: The child she had left the hospital with years ago, nursed, and raised for five years… was not her son. Where, then, was the child she carried for nine months? The one whose kicks she counted until she walked into that hospital? And whose child was this dying boy—the one she believed was hers? Even she no longer knew. The Ustaz stood speechless. The banker who helped raise the boy in false certainty was lost for words. But one truth burned through the confusion: To save this sick child, they need the blood of his biological parents. And saving him may be the only way to find their real son. The boy on the hospital bed is no longer just a patient. He is the key. The cipher. The map. Unlocking the past. Destabilizing the present. Rewriting the future. Jamal thought the dreams of a veiled woman were his greatest mystery. But this… This is a revelation that will shake the foundations of faith, love, and identity. A war of blood and memory. A haunting that refuses to remain buried. And it all begins here. Meanwhile In far away city. Beneath the relentless sun of Marhaba, Aamina carefully reconstructed her life. A devastating heartbreak had not merely scarred her. It had convinced her that true love was nothing but a beautiful, dangerous fiction. She found solace in routine: teaching art to quiet children, sharing evening tea with her grandmother, Ummi Zahra, and trying to forget what it felt like to be truly known. Then the dreams began. Not fleeting illusions of sleep, but visions vivid enough to haunt her waking hours. A stranger whose presence felt more real than the earth beneath her feet. A figure she had never seen in her waking life, yet one her soul recognized with an unnerving certainty. It felt like a memory of a touch imprinted deep within her being. Her friends dismissed the visions as loneliness. Her grandmother, Ummi Zahra, called it madness. Driven by love and fear that the devastating heartbreak had truly shaken Aamina’s spirit, Ummi Zahra quietly arranged what she believed was the only solution. She reached out to Chief Muhammad: A man of influence, dignity, and unwavering stability. The proposal was not a request, but an offering: a secure future, a respected name, a shield against what she saw as the haunting whispers of a wounded past. Aamina now stood at a crossroads she never imagined. One path offered duty and safety: the comfort of becoming Chief Muhammad’s wife, soothing her grandmother’s fears, and silencing the celestial call that both terrified and captivated her. The other path led into the unknown: the magnetic pull of a stranger’s soul, a promise woven into her dreams, a destiny demanding faith in what she could not see or touch. Torn between earthly assurance and divine whispers, Aamina is left to make her decision. Will she silence the celestial call that haunts her? letting its echo fade beneath the world’s demands? Or can she surrender to that pull, and find her way not only to him, but to the profound, world-altering purpose that awaits their united souls? A Divine Romantic Union: holistic, transformative, destined. The answer unfolds within SPLIT SOUL. _______ This is not merely a lover’s tale. It is a sacred odyssey. A pilgrimage into the soul’s deepest chambers; for emotional, spiritual, psychological, and romantic healing. This is a story woven from the invisible threads that bind us; threads you cannot see, yet pull us through the cosmos toward those written into our soul’s design. Some threads lead to friends that refines and uplifts us, some mentors, some soul guides. And some pull us toward single, destined counterpart. But here is the truth: This thread only pulls us towards those meant to refine and uplift us when we're living in alignment with our soul’s purpose. When we choose truth over deceit, integrity over shortcuts, love over ego. For some bonds are written by the Divine. Others were never meant to hold. Every choice you make: how you love, how you live daily, how you honor your creator; either blesses your soul path, or stains it with karmic weight. Making the thread harder to follow. And the journey heavier. In the end, it is your choices that decide: Will you drift toward the souls destined to heal and uplift you… Or repel from them without ever knowing how close you came? A divine counterpart is not just someone you desire. It is the one your soul recognizes as Allah's timing. The one whose presence on Earth reflects your light. The one your body and soul choose, again and again, not out of obligation. But of sacred recognition. This love is not built on lies. It is honest. Pure. Unshakable. Somewhere, your destined counterpart might be waiting. Somewhere, the souls meant to challenge, heal, and complete you might still be trying to walk their path toward you. And the thread? It is still glowing. Waiting only for you to live in a way… that allows it to lead you home. Your journey begins now. _______. A Word of Intention: This book does not aim to dismantle your beliefs. Nor to replace what you hold sacred. It is not a weapon. It is not a doctrine. It is simply… a mirror. Held gently. For those brave enough to see themselves in it. For those ready to unlearn what was once survival, and learn what might just be truth. It is a journey of heartbreak and healing, Of connection lost and found, Of the soul whispering beneath the noise, "I've been here before. What's my current mission." A work of fiction. A vessel of divine memory. A home for those still remembering. A dreamscape where love walks through veils. Where destiny collides with doubt. And where the ache you can’t explain might finally have a name. Welcome to Split Soul. Where the greatest journey is not across oceans, but through the soul’s own forgetting, back into the truth it buried on its way here. Divinely written in the unseen: Written for the brave. Read by the broken. Remembered by the soul. ______. This story is for you if: You've ever loved the wrong person. You've ever loved someone and it felt like more than this lifetime. You've felt a connection that defied logic. You've caught yourself wondering, "Is there more to romantic relationship than this raindrop surface level attraction we share with half truth?" If you've carried shame from past choices… Or held on to hope that made no sense to anyone but your soul. Then maybe, just maybe, your spirit remembers something your mind has forgotten. Because love doesn’t start here. It continues here. This is not a book about saints. It’s a book about souls. Flawed. Searching. Fiercely human. Sometimes aching. Sometimes awakening. If you’re looking for perfect people, this isn’t that kind of story. If you want to be entertained but untouched, turn back. But if you’re ready to unfold, To question what you've called real, To feel what you've numbed, To remember what your soul buried at the gates of birth, Then step in. With open hands. And a quietly listening heart.