The Twins Chapter 21 Final
Two days had passed.
Today, Zainab was in the kitchen, determined to cook for Mubarak.
For the past three months, life had fallen more into place between them. Mubarak had been nothing but kind, too good to be true. He barely let her lift a finger this days, always making sure she was taken care of. But today, she wanted to do something for him. She wanted to make his favorite dish.
As she placed the pot on the stove and turned on the gas, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. Zainab gripped the counter, trying to steady herself. She took a deep breath, determined to push through. If she wanted to get things done, she had to ignore how weak she felt.
But her body had other plans.
The dizziness intensified, and before she knew it, the world around her blurred. She felt herself falling—until strong arms caught her just in time.
Looking up, she found herself in Mubarak's hold. Her loving husband. But instead of his usual warmth, his face was etched with concern, his brows furrowed in frustration.
Without a word, Mubarak reached over with one hand and turned off the gas, securing her safely in his arms before lifting her effortlessly in a bridal style.
"Zainab," he sighed, his voice filled with worry. "How many times do I have to tell you not to push yourself? You're not feeling well. What if I wasn't close by? What if something happened to you?"
He carried her to the living room and gently placed her on the couch. Sitting beside her, he took her legs and rested them on his lap, his hands massaging them gently.
Zainab was now two months pregnant, and the symptoms had been taking a toll on her. Lately, Mubarak barely let her do anything—at least, not on her own.
"So, about Umrah… since I can't go, why don't you go for us?" Zainab asked, her voice laced with hope.
Mubarak sighed, rubbing his temples. "Zainab, please don't start this again," he pleaded.
For days now, she had been insisting on them going for Umrah before their honeymoon. But with her current condition, traveling was out of the question. Still, she refused to let the idea go, and now she was trying to convince Mubarak to go in her place, praying for their future child.
"I shouldn't be the only one missing out," she argued stubbornly. "You stopped me from going, so now you have to go."
Mubarak shook his head, a knowing look in his eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking—how he had been the one to inform her brother, Yusuf, about her insistence on traveling despite her health condition. And now, she was turning it back on him.
"Zainab, I can't go anywhere without you," he said firmly. "Especially not when you need me the most. Please, stop forcing me to do something I don't want to do."
They went back and forth for several minutes, neither willing to back down. Eventually, Mubarak let out a deep sigh and picked up his phone.
Zainab's eyes widened. "Mubarak, what are you doing?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he dialed Yusuf's number, waiting as the phone rang. If she wouldn't listen to him, maybe she would listen to her brother.
As soon as Mubarak explained the situation to Yusuf, his brother-in-law sighed before speaking.
"Mubarak, I think you've spoiled my sister too much. Now, she's getting out of hand. You can't even control your wife anymore. Does everything in your house have to go according to her wishes?" Yusuf said, his tone laced with disapproval.
Both Mubarak and Zainab had been listening through the speakerphone, but Mubarak, sensing the tension, quickly turned off the speaker and pressed the phone to his ear, not wanting Zainab to hear more.
However, Zainab was faster. She snatched the phone from him and marched toward the kitchen, her expression a mix of frustration and hurt.
"Brother, why would you say that about me?" she demanded. "Why do you always embarrass me in front of Mubarak? Why do you always take his side, no matter what?"
There was silence on the other end. Yusuf hadn't expected her to hear his words.
"If it were Zara, you wouldn't say that about her," Zainab added, her voice softer now, but still filled with emotion.
A pause. Then Yusuf finally spoke, his tone calmer.
"Zainab, what exactly are you trying to imply?"
Zainab remained silent for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice laced with emotion.
"If it were Zara in my place, you would have pleaded with her to stay," she said, her words heavy with years of built-up pain.
She took a deep breath and continued, reminding Yusuf of all the unfair treatment she had endured compared to her sister.
"When you wanted to get us married, you asked Zara if she wanted the marriage first. But me? You didn't even consider my feelings—you asked me to leave your house if I didn't comply. When Zara faced challenges in her marriage, you pleaded with her to stay, visited her, and constantly checked on her well-being. But with me, all you ever did was ask Mubarak if I was troubling him. It's like you only cared about Zara, not me."
Her voice wavered, but she pushed on.
"You used to bless and encourage Zara daily when we were still in your house, yet with me, all you ever did was fight. Even when she did something wrong, you gently advised her and told her not to repeat it. But me? You would scold and shout at me without hesitation."
A heavy silence followed. Zainab's words struck deep, and for the first time, Yusuf was forced to face the truth.
He let out a long, slow breath before finally speaking, his tone filled with regret.
"Zainab… I am so sorry if you ever felt that way," he said sincerely. "I love both of you equally. I never meant to hurt you like that."
A lump formed in his throat as he continued, his voice thick with emotion.
"And I'm sorry for forcing you into marriage with Mubarak against your will, no matter what I should have talk to you instead"
Thankfully they never regret it she thought.
Yusuf had always believed he was doing what was best, but hearing Zainab's pain made him realize how much he had overlooked her feelings.
Yusuf apologized sincerely to Zainab, and after that, they chatted for a while, their conversation light and pleasant. It felt good to reconnect, even if it was just for a short time.
After a few moments, Yusuf spoke again, his tone gentle but firm.
"But still, Zainab, I don't want you to take advantage of Mubarak's kindness towards you. You shouldn't always force him to do things he doesn't want to do. It's not right. I want your husband to always be pleased with you so that Allah will also be pleased with you, my dear Zainab."
Zainab smiled at his words, feeling warmth in her heart at her brother's concern. "Okay, Insha Allah," she responded delightfully.
Yusuf chuckled. "Good. Now, how are you feeling? I'll be coming to check on you. Is there anything you'd like me to bring?"
Being a doctor, Yusuf always made sure Zainab received proper medical care. Even though he wasn't the one handling her check-ups, he still kept a close watch on her condition and often checked in on her personally.
Zainab told him what she wanted, and after a few more words, she ended the call. With a contented sigh, she made her way back to the parlour, where Mubarak was seated, waiting for her.
After the Asr prayer, Mubarak was curious but didn't question why Zainab had asked him to dress up nicely. He simply obliged, feeling delighted, especially since it was an outfit she had personally chosen for him.
They wore matching colors—Zainab in a floral green gown with a white veil, and Mubarak in a long-sleeved green shirt paired with black jeans. They looked effortlessly elegant together, their natural beauty complementing each other perfectly.
Seated together in the living room, Zainab rested her arm on Mubarak as she told him a story. He listened attentively, his eyes filled with admiration, cherishing every moment. If only time could pause, he thought, so they could remain like this forever.
Just then, a knock on the door interrupted their quiet moment. They exchanged a glance before getting up to answer it together.
____
As soon as Zara and Lukman arrived at Zainab's house, Lukman quickly went to open the door for her. He took the package she was holding and handed it to the house help who had come to collect it.
Lukman then helped Zara out of the car, his hand still firmly holding hers.
As they walked toward the door, with the house help leading the way, Zara kept trying to pull her hand away, but Lukman held on tightly, not letting go. Zara gave him subtle signals to release her, but he didn't seem to notice or care.
"What if people see us like this?" Zara whispered, glancing toward the house help, hoping she wouldn't overhear.
Lukman's eyes softened as he looked at her. "No, I won't let go. I can't," he whispered back, unable to resist admiring her.
The house help knocked on the door, and Lukman leaned in, muttering something to Zara. His words made her smile, causing a warm flush to spread across her cheeks.
As the door opened, revealing Zainab and Mubarak, Lukman quickly composed himself and released Zara's hand.
Zara felt a rush of embarrassment—she had never been put in such a position before. Lukman had been acting this way ever since they had settled their matters two days ago, and she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious now, especially with Zainab and Mubarak witnessing the moment.
Zainab and Mubarak greeted Zara and Lukman as if nothing unusual had happened, pretending not to notice the hand-holding earlier. They both smiled warmly, making Zara and Lukman feel comfortable.
Zara and Zainab embraced each other tightly. Zara was surprised when she realized they were both wearing the same outfit. After all, Zainab had gifted her the dress a few weeks ago, and just yesterday, Zainab had asked her to wear it when coming to her house. The two of them looked beautiful in the matching outfits, Zara in her floral green gown with the white veil, and Zainab in hers, looking effortlessly stunning.
Lukman, although his outfit was a bit different in style, was wearing the same color as Mubarak. The matching hues and contrasting materials complemented his sharp looks perfectly, and Zara couldn't help but steal glances at him, still feeling the warmth of their reconciliation.
When they all settled into Zainab's parlor, the atmosphere was filled with joy. Zainab was happy to see her sister finally content in her marriage, which was one of the main reasons she had invited her to visit.
Zara handed over the package of assorted snacks she had prepared, her expression full of excitement. "Here is what you asked me to get for you," Zara said, revealing the carefully wrapped snacks.
Zainab's face lit up in delight upon seeing the treats. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, her voice filled with appreciation.
Zara smiled. "No, don't thank me. Lukman made it for you," she added playfully.
Lukman shot Zara a quick glance, a bit irritated, as he had asked her not to mention that he was the one who prepared the snacks.
Zainab's eyes widened with gratitude. "Thank you, Lukman, and thank you, Zara," Mubarak chimed in, clearly pleased with the thoughtful gesture.
Zainab's joy only grew as she looked around at her family. The love and happiness in the room filled her heart, and she couldn't help but feel thankful for the peace that seemed to be settling in their lives.
The maids quickly went to fetch drinks for Zara and Lukman, while Mubarak also instructed them to bring plates, wanting Zainab to taste the snacks Zara had thoughtfully brought for her.
As the aroma of the meal wafted through the room, Zainab suddenly felt a wave of nausea rise within her. She rose from her seat, covering her mouth, desperately trying to hold it in. Zara, who was seated beside her, noticed immediately and hurriedly followed her to the bathroom. Mubarak, though concerned, remained with Lukman, both men visibly worried about Zainab.
Zara helped Zainab clean up, showing deep concern for her well-being. She gently held Zainab, speaking softly, "I'm so sorry you're feeling like this. May Allah bless the child in your womb, and may you get better soon."
Zainab, still feeling weak, managed a small smile in gratitude for Zara's kind words. Despite her discomfort, Zainab appreciated Zara's support more than she could express.
______THE END.
ALHAMDULILLAH.