Clueless Love

I don’t know if what I heard was right or not, because I have dreamt of the day I would tell Ismail about my feelings and he would share the feelings back. But now hearing him say it, feels like I am still having that dream. I can’t believe all these weeks when I thought my feelings were one-sided, they were not. I am so happy right now; words can’t even describe it.

“Yes, Umit, I am in love with you.”

“Oh, Ismail I clearly understand how you feel, but you are not the only one with feelings here. I too have feelings, that’s why I can’t bear to watch your life being in danger and not do anything to help. That’s why I want to stay by your side and help because of the feelings I have for you.”

“Umit, what are you trying to say.”

“What I am trying to say is, Ismail Uthman. I, Umit Isa, am in love with you too,” I tell him, smiling the brightest smile I have ever smiled in my life.

“What, that’s impossible,” Ismail says sounding shocked to the bone.

“What, how, why, please tell me why that’s impossible,” I say feeling totally confused with his response. Now I think it’s a bad dream I am having.

“Because you dislike me.”

“I think based on our relationship during the past months, that term can’t be used between us anymore,” I say clearly finding it funny that I must explain to this man that I love him.

“Even though we have been getting along quite well, I can’t seem to believe such a great woman like you would love me.”

“Aww, Ismail, you are quite the man. I am in love with you. I am in love with you. Nothing is going to change that even though you find it unbelievable,” I say smiling, feeling happy that Ismail thinks I am a great woman.

“I don’t know why I just find it too wonderful for you to be in love with me, for it to be real.”

“Ismail I can understand why you find it impossible. You feel because of our past, I would have never been able to fall in love with you, but I did Ismail. I fell in love with the wonderful man that you are,” I say smiling.

“Really? You fell in love with me. A nobody like me” Ismail asks incredulously, sounding like he is starting to believe me.

“Yes, I did, and Ismail you are not a nobody. You are the wonderful, funny, amazing, intelligent, handsome and God- fearing man that I am in love with,” I say with pride.

“Oh My God Umit, Subhan Allah (Glory be to Allah), you don’t know what this means. You don’t know how much it means to me that you feel the same way I do about you. I have been in love with you for a while now, but I have not dared to tell you because I believed you would never fall in love with me. You are such an amazing, beautiful, strong, loving, fearless, God-fearing, and courageous woman Umit, I love you so much,” Ismail says with a big smile.

“I love you too,” I say shedding little tears of joy. I can’t believe I wasn’t the only one who thought it was impossible for us to be in love with each other. I wasn’t the only one who had negative thoughts about the other’s feelings. All I can say is that I am beyond happy that our feelings aren’t one-sided.

“Umit, are you crying?” Ismail asks noticing the little teardrops falling from my eyes.

“No, am not,” I say wiping them away from my eyes.

“Don’t cry my love. I don’t want to see you cry,” Ismail says, handing me his handkerchief.

And it’s like he just pressed the on button for more tears to come out. Ismail might have called me a lot of sweet words before, but now I know he means them it is making my heartbeat faster than ever for him. I love this man so much.

“I am not crying anymore, I am fine,” I say wiping the tears away.

“Now, I know there is nothing I can say or do, that would make you leave,” Ismail states smiling.

“Yes, correct,” I reply smiling back.

The next morning came faster than I wanted it to. I am currently lying down on the praying mat after praying Fajr. I am feeling a little too lazy to get up and give Ismail the praying mat. We only have one praying mat; we are lucky Ismail had one in his helicopter. David also got me a very big scarf to use for prayer. He even had to go to the store to get clothes for me because he had nothing fitting here for me. I used the praying mat after Ismail last night, that’s why it’s with me now. We called Aazim last night and told him everything that is happening. He was worried like everyone else but was very happy to hear we are doing okay. He also promised to inform the others about our whereabouts, so they won’t worry too much.

“A’oothu billaahi minash-Shaytaanir-rajeem, (I seek refuge in Allah, from Satan the outcast)” I say getting up from the mat.

I said that because Shaytaan (Satan) can be the reason why I feel too lazy to get up and give Ismail the praying mat to pray. Because he does not want Ismail to pray, which is sinful. People don’t know, but Shaytaan (Satan) works in different ways, so you always have to be careful.

I walk to Ismail’s room and knock on the door and wait for his reply. He takes a while before he answers the door.

“Yes?” Ismail says opening the door.

“As salamu alaykum, I came to give you the praying mat,” I say handing the mat over to him.

“Wa alaykumu salam, and thank you,” he says taking the praying mat from my hands.

“Why did you take time to answer the door? Were you doing something?”

“I was hacking into Mr Alberto’s phone to see if he knows our whereabouts.”

“Oh, so does he?” I ask curious to know.

“I am not sure, because I have not checked it yet. I just got access to his phone as I came to answer the door. I need to read through his messages to see if he knows anything.”

“Alright then. Why don’t you go and pray while I read the messages to find out?”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“That’s not a bad idea, let me get you the laptop. You can read them in the kitchen. David is making breakfast,” Ismail says, walking back inside. He comes back and hands me the laptop.

“I will see you in the kitchen after you finish praying.”

I walk to the kitchen with the laptop in my hands. I see David making breakfast over the stove. The kitchen is nice. The walls are painted golden, there is another chandelier above the dining table, the worktops are black ceramic, and the cupboards are golden brown.

“Good morning,” I say walking into the kitchen.

“Good morning Umit, how was your night?” David asks, turning away from the stove for a second.

“It was good, yours?” I say taking a seat on a stool. I place the laptop on the benchtop and begin reading Mr Alberto’s messages. I know it is wrong to read someone’s messages, but when that person wants to find you to do harm, you must take measures to keep yourself safe.

“Mine was good, too. What are you doing?” David responds pointing at the laptop.

“I am reading Mr Alberto’s messages to see if he knows our whereabouts.”

“Oh. Here is your breakfast,” David says, placing a plate of eggs, baked beans, bread, and a cup of coffee in front of me.

“Thank you, and you forgot to tell me yesterday how come you are not dead anymore,” I say, taking a bite of my breakfast, still reading the messages but seeing nothing important so far.

“Oh, I thought Ismail already explained that to you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“I am meant to be dead or rather Mr. Alberto needs to think I am dead. He sent someone to kill me, but the person did not finish the job. The person kidnapped me, almost beat me to death and left for a while. I was able to escape before he came back. I am guessing he replaced my body with someone else’s and lied to Mr. Alberto that I was the one he killed. So, that’s why everyone was told I was dead when I wasn’t. I fled to LA and stayed low for a while before later deciding to contact Ismail.”

“Oh, now everything makes sense. But I have to ask how a police officer affords such a luxurious mansion?”

“That’s because it was passed down to him,” Ismail answers walking into the kitchen.

“Yes, he is right. My grandfather left this house to me before he died,” David agrees.

“Oh, now I understand everything. I don’t think Mr. Alberto knows our location. There is nothing in his messages that indicate he knows.”

“Alright, that’s good,” Ismail says taking a seat while David places his breakfast in front of him.

“Yeah, and after breakfast you guys should meet me in my study. We have a lot to discuss,” David states while Ismail and I nod at him. Once David walks out, Ismail turns to me.

“Umit, how is your hand, and your face? Do they hurt in any way?” Ismail asks looking at my hands and face he bandaged. Last night before we went to bed, Ismail cleaned and dressed my wounds. It was so nice of him to do that for me.

“They are fine. They just hurt when I pour water on them.”

“Sorry, if you need my help lifting, or using your hands for something strenuous, call me. I will help you.”

“No, there is no need. I can do things for myself.”

“I insist. Make sure to call me when you want to use your hands for anything strenuous.”

“Alright, I will,” I smile, feeling very happy. Ismail cares so much about me and wants to help me in any way he can. But I shouldn’t be surprised, he does love me after all. I still can’t believe it, but I am more than happy he feels the same way I do.