After Midnight

12

I had read tons of books about how the girl and the boy had a happily ever after. I thought I felt how one of them suffered through the loss of the other, weather it be temporary.

I was wrong.

My Harry was dying in my arms, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t call an ambulance because my phone was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Father had taken it when he left us like this. There was clearly no humanity left in him after what he did to me. To him.

“Please God,” I sobbed, shaking Harry with trembling hands. “Please let him be safe. Please send help.”

As if Allah SWT listened to my prayer, the paramedics rushed inside my room with a stretcher, ordering me to move away. What was happening? How did the ambulance get here when nobody called?

I wiped away my tears and rushed behind the people taking my husband away. When I spotted my sister standing in the shadows of the corridor, I stopped. She emerged with light footsteps and I was shocked to see that she was crying as well.

“I listened to everything. I know everything,” she rasped, stopping a few feet away from me. God. She had grown so big, almost reaching my height. “I was the one who told father Haaris was in your room, and I saw him taking a gun with him.” She sniffed. “But then I listened to what you both said. . .you being pregnant? But you’re so young. Maybe that’s the reason I didn’t wish bad for you, and called an ambulance. I don’t want the innocent baby to lose his father. Perhaps I don’t love you much, but the child growing inside you doesn’t get to be a part of this hatred.”

I knew I needed to be with Harry right now, but the ambulance had already left. I felt a bit at ease. Maybe not quite, but a little. The doctors would look after him, and he’d be fine. I also had to deal with my family now, while my husband fought for his life miles away from me.

“I don’t hate you—“

“Yes, you do. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

I closed the distance between us and grabbed her shoulders. With transparent honesty in my eyes, I uttered, “I love you, baby. You are my sister, we share the same blood, and I love you a lot. I know we aren’t close, and perhaps it’s because I was too much involved into my own life or couldn’t understand what you wished for, but please. . .never say we hate each other. You’re a part of me, and nobody can take your and our sister’s place.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but I thought of the tears pooled in her eyes as an indication that perhaps she feels bad.

“I am sorry that I told father,” she whispered, throwing herself at me. “I am so sorry that you have to go through this because of me.”

I massage the back of her head, trying to calm her sobs. “It’s okay. What’s done been done and you can’t do anything to change it.”

Once she pulls back, I rub away the tears from her eyes, and pass her a sad smile.

“I will always live this guilt—“

“You won’t,” I cut her off. “You won’t. And even if these thoughts come to your head, you remind yourself that you were also the one who called an ambulance and helped us. You helped in saving his life.”

She sniffed loudly. “I also love him, you know. As a brother of course. I never got to know why our parents stop us from meeting him. He has only ever been extremely nice to us. Boys like him are hard to find.”

“That’s true. But also not. You find a partner who is the same as what you are. Always be a nice person, and never think of hurting people.”

“I will try. Have you seen Mother? She seemed to disappear when Haaris came.”

I hadn’t seen her, and didn’t wish that either. Whenever she was around me, any kindness I had for her would vanish into wisps of smoke. Poof. Just gone. She somehow always managed to bring out the worst in me.

“I haven’t, but we will soon.”

I sat in the lounge, staring at the uber app as my feet clicked against the floor. The wait was killing me, and the uber driver felt miles away when he was just around the block, reaching any moment. I blew out a big sigh and averted my eyes heavenwards, silently praying to God that He save my Harry. That everything going wrong would be fine again.

I all but sprinted outside the main gate when the unmistakable noise of a car engine’s faint voice touched my ears—I was out in less than a minute.

“Take me to the hospital,” I informed the driver and he nodded his head, putting the car in drive.

Traffic was horrible—so was my condition. I couldn’t stop fidgeting in my seat, fearing if everything was going alright in the hospital. Although I am no doctor, I at least hold some information about gun shots—and if I am not wrong, they would’ve taken Harry into the ICU. The thought clenched my heart. My throat burned with unattended emotions—I’d rather not delve deeper into those feelings.

The driver’s eyes flickered towards me through the rearview mirror. “You’re at your destination, Miss.”

I blinked. We were parked along the curb—just near the hospital. Had I zoned away? It’s happening a lot lately. . .more than I could bear.

I payed the driver his fair and slid out of the taxi. The cool winter air snaked around me like a ghost, taunting my scarf as it fought against my warmth and seeped inside my skin. The coat felt little to nothing to help with the chilly breeze, but I didn’t care.

“Hi, can you please tell me where Haaris could be? He was shot—“

The receptionist—a young lady with blonde hair and too a too sweet smile (was the smile really necessary?) cut me off, and said in a high pitched voice, “Second floor, first room to the right—but I am afraid he might not be there anymore. The doctor took him into the ICU to perform the operation.” She held out a piece of paper to me. “Meanwhile, you need to fill in this form and pay the fee.”

Fair enough.

I gave her a decent yet pained smile and accepted the form.

“Do you have a pen?” I held out an expectant hand.

With yet another extremely cheerful smile, she provided me with a pen. I mumbled my thanks and moved to the edge of the counter because people were gathered behind me. I quickly filled in all the details and gave the man who sat behind another desk my debit card.

The metal in his brow glistened under the lights when he arched a brow at me. “Your boyfriend?”

I grinded my teeth in fury. Was he attempting for small talk, or was it just his curiosity getting the best out of him that he didn’t even respect my hijab before asking such a question?

“My husband,” I corrected.

A baffled expression pulled on his face. “Right. Uh, here you go,” he uttered, holding out the card back to me. I yanked it out of his grip along with the bill slip and headed the ICU’s way.