Oh, ya albi.My heart.
I extend my hand and she takes it softly before I pull her into a hug. “Thank you for being strong.”
Her face is pink with shyness and she lets go of me to hide her face in Kenan’s side. He bites back a laugh, but there are stars caught in his irises, and I can’t believe the absolute peace I’m experiencing here, at the hospital of all places.
I peek at Yusuf, who’s staring at the ground, seemingly determined to ignore me.
“Salam, Yusuf,” I say, raising a hand in a wave. He glances at me briefly before looking away, his hands in his pockets and slightly frowning.
I look at Kenan, scared I might have done something wrong, but he shakes his head.
“He’s a bit jealous.” He sighs. “Thinks things are about to change and you’re stealing me away from them.” Then in a louder voice he says, “But I told him things are changing for the better; we just have three extra people as family now.”
Yusuf shrugs, still not making eye contact.
Kenan sighs again. “He’ll come around.”
“It’s okay. He and I will become best friends soon enough.”
I hear Dr. Ziad talking to a patient from the right side of the atrium.
“Let’s get married?” Kenan grins.
I blush. “I don’t have anything planned for today, so sure.”
We walk over to Dr. Ziad, who’s just finishing up with the patient. His hair is in disarray, and his shoulders are hunched from exhaustion. But when he turns around and spots me, he smiles.
“Salama!” he says. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Doctor,” I reply and glance back at Kenan, who looks as shy as I feel.
Dr. Ziad looks between us. “Is everything all right?”
My palms sweat and nervousness churns in my stomach. “Yes. I—Dr. Ziad, I want to ask you a favor.”
He straightens. “Of course. Anything.”
“I—I mean—what happened—” I stutter, and Kenan steps in.
“I asked Salama to marry me, and we were wondering if you’d be the one to officiate,” he says in a clear voice, but his face and ears are red.
Dr. Ziad glances between us before laughing joyously. The sound turns many heads our way, and I’m afire.
“I—I—” he stutters, caught off guard with happiness. I have never seen Dr. Ziad this way before. He rubs his eyes and laughs again. “This is wonderful news! Salama, when did you two…?”
I fiddle with the ends of my hijab. “It’s a long story, but”—I look up at Kenan—“it was fate.”
Kenan smiles.
“You want to do this here? Now?” Dr. Ziad asks. His grin is as wide as a crescent moon.
I nod. “Our next moments aren’t promised. And you’ve always been like a father to me.”
His exhaustion vanishes and he looks ten years younger. “It would be my honor to officiate.”
I can’t help the smile that twitches my lips upward. I feel like I’m in a dream. Buds of hope begin to bloom slowly in my heart, petals opening to meet the sun. I wish Layla was here, holding my hand. But I take comfort that Lama and Yusuf are able to attend, watching something other than trauma unfold in this hospital.
A crowd begins to form around us, the pale faces curious about what’s happening. Patients offer their congratulations, and Kenan bows his head. Usually I wouldn’t like this invasion of privacy, but seeing anything other than pain and suffering on the people’s faces is worth it. I catch Am lurking at the edge of the crowd, his stare judging. I look away.
