The Twins Chapter 20
Three months had passed since the storm of revelations, and Zara had kept the secrets of her tumultuous relationship with Lukman to herself. She hadn't told anyone except Zainab, though alamin knows, zainab had been furious at first. Zainab couldn't understand how her twin sister could even consider forgiving Lukman. But over time, Zainab softened, urging Zara to give him a chance, to forgive him for the sake of her peace.
Today, on the twins' last day of their second semester exams, the weight of these thoughts felt heavier than ever.
Zara and Zainab walked slowly toward the parking lot, both exhausted from the long exam day. As they walked, Zainab suddenly spoke, her voice filled with mixed emotions.
"Zara," Zainab said softly, her tone filled with emotion, "I'm really going to miss you. Now we won't be seeing each other almost every day," she complained, the final day of their semester exams bringing the realization that their daily routine would soon change.
Zara looked at her, her heart heavy with the same feeling.
Zara didn't say much in response. Before she could gather her thoughts and reply, she noticed Lukman and Mubarak standing by their cars, waiting for them. Their cars were parked close together, just a few feet apart.
Zainab, not missing a beat, hugged Zara tightly. "See you soon, I'll come by later or tomorrow," she said with a warm smile, trying to cheer her up.
Zara smiled weakly, feeling the lump in her throat. "Take care," she said, watching as Zainab happily walked over to Mubarak's car.
As Zainab drove off with Mubarak, Zara turned and made her way to Lukman's car. She opened the door, her heart heavy with the complicated emotions she'd been carrying for months.
Once inside the car, she closed the door, her hands resting on her lap.
"Good afternoon, how was your exams?" Lukman asked, glancing at Zara as he started the car. His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if unsure of her response.
"It was fine, alhamdulillah," Zara replied, her voice flat but polite. She didn't offer more than that, and Lukman noticed the way she still kept a distance, emotionally and physically.
It had been like this for the past few months. They barely spoke to each other, and when they did, it was Lukman making the effort. He tried everything—small gestures, kind words—but Zara kept her walls up, dismissing him at every turn. Her silence was like a shield, protecting her from further hurt, and despite all his efforts, he couldn't break through.
In the house, they lived separate lives. He tried to cook for her once, but she didn't even look at the food. She told him to leave her presence, and he obeyed, swallowing his pride each time. There were moments when he would plead with her to at least talk, to try and understand each other again, but she remained cold, unyielding.
Lukman sighed as he drove, the silence in the car heavy between them. He didn't know how much longer he could endure this distance, but he knew it was all he could do for now. He just needed to give her time, even though it was becoming unbearable.
When they reached home, it was time for prayers. Zara prayed and went straight to the kitchen with Nafisat, who had been a constant support for her throughout everything. Nafisat still stood by Zara's side.
"Zara," Nafisat began gently as they worked together in the kitchen, "You can't keep ignoring him like this. Lukman has changed. He's really trying, but you need to give him a chance."
Zara paused for a moment, her hands still on the vegetables she was chopping. Her expression tightened, but she said nothing. Nafisat sighed, sensing the frustration in Zara's silence.
"You can't keep living like this," Nafisat continued. "I know you're hurt, but Lukman wants to make things right. He's been trying so hard."
Zara's grip on the knife tightened, her mind racing with the confusion of emotions she had been holding onto for so long. She couldn't ignore the fact that Lukman had changed alot.
Nafisat noticed her hesitation and tried to offer a reassuring smile. "Please, Zara, for your own peace of mind, at least try to talk to him. See where it goes. He's been patient."
Zara didn't respond immediately. She focused on the food in front of her, her mind caught in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. But Nafisat's words echoed in her mind, and for a moment, Zara wondered if it was time to stop running from her feelings and face the truth.
As Zara arranged everything on the dining table, the sound of rain began to fill the air. It started off as a gentle patter, but soon the rain intensified, and the heavy downpour echoed through the house.
Zara smiled softly to herself, her heart lightening at the sound. She recited the dua for rain, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with sincerity. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a deep connection to the moment.
Without thinking, she hurried outside to the courtyard. The rain felt cool against her skin as she stepped into the downpour, the droplets soaking her quickly. She laughed quietly to herself, raising her arms as if to welcome the rain. The cool water splashed around her feet, and for a moment, she felt as though the weight of the world had lifted.
Nafisat, who had followed her out with concern in her eyes, quickly approached her. "Zara, stop! What if you catch a cold?" she pleaded, reaching out to grab her arm.
Zara turned to look at Nafisat, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I'm fine," she said with a soft laugh. "It's just rain. It reminds me of the old days." She turned back toward the rain, her feet slipping slightly as she danced in the wetness, letting herself feel free for the first time in a long while.
Nafisat hesitated for a moment, then simply sighed and stepped back, knowing she couldn't stop Zara from doing what she felt. She stood on the porch, watching as Zara twirled in the rain, her hair damp and her clothes clinging to her skin.
Zara let the memories wash over her, the rain pulling her back to her childhood. She remembered running through the rain with Zainab, laughing as their grandmother scolded them to stop before they got sick. It had been simpler times, moments of joy and freedom. She closed her eyes, remembering the warmth of her grandmother's love, how she'd always make them tea afterward to warm up.
Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of her grandmother, whose absence still left a hole in her heart. She whispered a prayer, "Ya Allah, forgive her and grant her gentle soul peace." She paused, then continued, her voice trembling slightly, "And forgive my parents, who I never had the chance to grow up with. I wish I could have known them. Please, Allah, give them peace."
Zara stood there for a while, letting the rain soak her through as she prayed silently, her heart heavy with both longing and gratitude.
Lukman stood there, watching Zara as she continued to dance in the rain, her laughter ringing through the air like music. It made his heart ache in the best way, seeing her so carefree and happy again, but a deep worry settled in the pit of his stomach. The rain was too cold, and the thunder now rumbled through the sky, making his unease grow.
A deep voice cut through her thoughts. "Zara, that's enough."
Her heart jumped slightly at the familiar voice. She turned and saw Lukman standing a few feet away, watching her with a mix of fascination and concern. His shirt was already damp from the rain, but he didn't seem to care.
"Please, come inside. You'll get sick," he urged.
Zara didn't respond. Instead, she turned back to the rain, letting it fall against her skin like a shield between them. She didn't want him to ruin this moment.
Lukman sighed and took a step forward. "Zara—"
A sudden crack of thunder split through the sky, loud and sharp. Without thinking, Zara stumbled backward, heart pounding, and before she could stop herself, she reached for the closest thing—him.
Her hands gripped his arms as she buried her face in his chest, her body trembling slightly from the shock.
Lukman froze.
The warmth of her touch sent a jolt through him, a mix of surprise and something deeper, something he had been longing for. His arms hovered for a moment before he slowly, carefully, wrapped them around her, holding her close as the rain continued to fall.
Zara felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. For the first time in months, she wasn't pushing him away.
She realized it too late.
Embarrassed, she quickly pulled back, but her body betrayed her as a sharp cough tore through her throat.
Lukman's face changed instantly. He had been worried before, but now that concern turned into quiet determination.
"That's it," he said, his voice firmer now. "You're going inside."
Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms.
"Lukman, put me down!" Zara protested, weakly pushing at his chest.
"No," he said simply. "I gave you space, but I can't stand here and watch you harm yourself. I care too much."
The words settled deep into Zara's heart, but she didn't want to acknowledge them. Not yet.
She tried to argue, but another cough cut her off. Lukman tightened his grip slightly, as if reassuring himself that she was safe. He carried her through the doorway, past Nafisat, who simply smiled to herself as she stepped aside and look away.
Once inside, Lukman gently set her down check her wardrobe. He came back with a set of dry clothes in his hands.
"Change into these," he said, his voice softer now.
Zara hesitated. Her pride screamed at her to push him away again, to remind him that she still hadn't forgiven him. But her body ached from the cold, and she was too exhausted to fight.
For once, she didn't argue.
Lukman exhaled, watching as she took the clothes from him.
"Thank you," she muttered, barely above a whisper.
Lukman's lips twitched into a small, almost relieved smile. "Anytime, Zara."
And with that, he stepped away, giving her the space she needed.
Zara had just finished changing when she heard a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," she said, her voice quieter than usual.
Lukman stepped inside, carefully balancing a steaming cup of tea in his hands. He approached her gently, offering it without a word. She hesitated for a brief moment before accepting it. The warmth of the cup spread through her fingers, soothing her just as much as the first sip did.
He sat beside her, not too close, but near enough that she could feel his presence. His eyes watched her, not with pressure, but with quiet attentiveness.
Zara could feel the weight of his gaze, and it made her heart race in a way she wasn't ready to acknowledge. She kept her focus on the tea, sipping slowly, trying to ignore the silence stretching between them.
When she was done, Lukman reached out to take the empty cup.
"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice softer than she expected.
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine."
A small, almost relieved smile crossed his face as he took the cup and stood to leave.
But just as he turned, Zara's fingers instinctively wrapped around his wrist, stopping him.
Lukman froze, his breath catching slightly.
"Please, sit," she said, her grip loosening, but the quiet plea in her voice was enough to make him obey.
He placed the cup aside and lowered himself back onto the bed, searching her face for an answer to a question he dared not ask.
For the first time in months, Zara was letting him in.
Lukman, may the soul of the departed rest in peace. No one leaves this world unless it is their time," Zara said softly. Her voice carried a quiet strength, one that made Lukman lift his gaze to meet hers.
He remained silent, absorbing her words, but she could see the conflict in his eyes—the lingering pain of losing Afra, the weight of a past he hadn't fully let go of.
Zara took a deep breath before continuing. "Please, for Allah's sake, let go of the past. Settle whatever is between you and my brother—not for me or anyone else, but for Allah's sake."
Lukman's expression fell, his jaw tightening. She knew how much he had loved his sister, how deeply her loss had affected him. But if he truly wanted to move forward, he had to release the bitterness he held toward Alamin.
She had spent the past three months verifying Lukman's story, speaking to her brothers. Alamin had admitted his guilt over Afra, over how their marriage had crumbled. He had assured Zara that he had never mistreated her, but the timing of his second marriage to Atika had hurt Afra deeply. Even now, Alamin carried that regret.
She reached for his hand hesitantly, feeling the tension in his fingers. "Can you do that, Lukman?" she asked, her voice filled with hope.
He sat in silence, discomfort flickering across his face. She could tell he was struggling with the thought of forgiving Alamin, of letting go of the grudge that had consumed him for so long.
After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled slowly and nodded. "Insha'Allah."
A small, relieved smile tugged at Zara's lips. "Thank you."
For the first time in a long time, she saw something soften in his expression.
Zara hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Tell me about Afra."
Lukman's face changed instantly—his eyes brightened, and a faint, bittersweet smile appeared. He had spent so long burying his memories of his sister in pain. But now, he had a chance to remember her for who she truly was.
He started speaking, his voice laced with emotion. He told her about their childhood, how Afra was three years older than her—she would have been twenty now. He described how they were inseparable, how she was his biggest supporter and fiercest defender.
"She was stubborn," Lukman chuckled, his voice thick with nostalgia. "But she had the kindest heart. She never liked seeing anyone upset. She always tried to fix everything, even when it wasn't her problem to solve."
Zara listened intently, watching the way his face shifted between happiness and sorrow. She could see him trying to hold back tears, and her heart ached for him.
"You miss her a lot," she said gently.
Lukman nodded, looking away as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Every single day."
For the first time in months, they talked. Really talked. Not as husband and wife trapped in a broken marriage, not as enemies, but as two people who had both suffered loss in their own ways.
The conversation lasted for hours, stretching into the night.
And for the first time, Zara felt like maybe, just maybe, healing was possible.
Lukman sat in silence for a moment, watching Zara as she sipped another cup of tea he made to her again. The warmth of her presence, the softness in her features—he had missed this, missed her.
Then, out of nowhere, the question escaped his lips, unfiltered and raw.
"Zara… do you have any feelings left for me?"
His heart pounded. He wasn't sure why he asked, maybe because the past three months had been torture, maybe because every day without her felt like he was losing her all over again. He needed to know.
Zara blinked, taken aback by his sudden question. She hadn't expected it—hadn't even thought about how she would answer if he ever asked.
A heavy silence settled between them. Lukman's fingers clenched slightly, his breath shallow.
Finally, she sighed, placing the empty teacup beside her.
"Lukman… I do. I still love you."
His breath hitched. His heart felt like it had stopped and started at the same time. He stared at her, almost afraid that he had misheard.
But then she continued.
"My anger buried my feelings for you before. I thought they were gone, that I had lost every bit of love I once had for you." She swallowed hard, her voice softer now. "But not anymore."
Lukman froze, his mind reeling. Not anymore? Was she saying what he thought she was saying?
"I'm not angry with you anymore," Zara admitted, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. "I've spent so much time thinking, praying, trying to understand everything. And I've realized… holding onto pain won't change the past. It won't bring back your sister, and it won't change how everything happened."
She looked up at him, her gaze steady and unwavering. "I want things to be right between us, Lukman. I'm giving you another chance."
Lukman felt like the air had been knocked out of him.
Another chance.
His throat tightened, his emotions too overwhelming to contain. He had begged Allah for this moment, for the day Zara would finally look at him with something other than resentment.
"Zara… are you sure?" His voice was hoarse, filled with hesitation, with hope.
She nodded, just enough to make his heart soar. "Yes."
A shaky breath left him, and before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.
"Thank you, Zara," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. I love you so much."
Zara felt the warmth of his embrace, the desperation in the way he held her, as if afraid she would disappear.
For the first time in a long while, after they pulled away, she smiled at him—really smiled, the way she used to before. And in that moment, everything felt a little lighter.
A new beginning. A chance to heal.
And perhaps, just perhaps, love was still waiting for them after all.
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Expect another update of The Twins tonight, Insha Allah.