The Billionaire's Kidnapped wife

While my best friend was finishing up at ATBU, she had a bad accident and lost both her legs. I visited her at Shika hospital where she was staying. I saw her cry a lot because she couldn't believe she lost her legs just when she was almost finished with school. But that wasn't even the worst part.

When she was by herself in the hospital, she tried hurting herself, but the doctors and nurses always stopped her. My best friend was super smart, top of her class, and really young to be in her last year of school. Even though she was young, she had a lot of wisdom that made up for her age.

In that hospital room, she wasn't her usual cheerful self. Tears and regret filled her instead. I'd stay by her side, sharing stories, and comforting her.

Sometimes, I'd step out but quickly return. She'd gaze at me, holding back tears, wishing it was all a dream. She wished she could wake up, go back to walking on her own, pretending the accident never occurred.

Heartbreakingly, she made me promise to marry her if no one else did. Then, one day, her boyfriend called me. "Is what the doctor said true? Will my love never walk again?" he asked.

I tried to reassure him, "God willing, when there's life, there's hope."

But his next words dripped with disbelief, "When will she be able to walk, ooh Fareeda na?"

The boyfriend who may have been the reason she ended up in that situation since she was going to see him off campus. He, too, was in his final year, studying Mass Communication, but couldn't bring himself to visit the hospital because Fareeda had told him she never wanted to see him again.

The day he called me, Fareeda asked me who was on the phone. I told her it was Farouq, her boyfriend, and pleaded with her to let him visit since I was his friend too. However, she couldn't gather the courage to see Farouq, for reasons only she understood. Perhaps she worried he wouldn't see her the same way anymore, or maybe being so close to death had altered her feelings for him.

It was heartbreaking to see Fareeda grappling with such emotional trauma, accepting the harsh reality that she wouldn't walk again. She knew she wouldn't be able to do many things that once brought her joy, like her sports activities in the school gym or those carefree Saturday evening bike rides around the campus. Seeing her struggle with this loss deeply affected me.

I remained by her side, and so did three of her friends: Naimah, Aisha, and Zulaiya. They rotated to spend the night with her in her room, while I sought solace in the hospital's mosque at night. There, I found a safe space to let out my emotions, praying to Allah to bring healing to Fareeda's legs, expressing my vulnerability through tears and prayers.

The verse from Surah Al-Baqarah, reassuring that Allah doesn't burden a soul beyond its capacity, brought us comfort amidst the hospital's strong smell of medicines. Despite each day feeling heavy, like Fareeda was consumed by regret, we somehow found moments to laugh. During this challenging time, we made a tough decision to involve her parents, despite her plea not to. We couldn't bear to witness her suffering in solitude from the harsh reality.

It's true that often people don't express their deepest desires until faced with adversity. But it was only when Fareeda encountered this tragedy that I discovered the depth of my love for her. I realized the lengths I'd go to just to see her smile, even if only for a moment. At times, I find myself wandering, speaking to no one but myself, contemplating what could have been if I had been honest about my feelings for her right from the very beginning.

Years have gone by since then, yet my feelings for her have only deepened. I've struggled to find the courage to confess my love. She was my first and only love. Many people around us sensed my feelings for her, but she never acknowledged it, and that pained me deeply. I played it off because I knew she was the sought-after type on campus - young, tall, fair, and stunningly beautiful with a charming figure.

I was happy being recognized as her friend, especially when she achieved a remarkable 4.88 CGPA in her first semester. She became an icon and an inspiration to other girls, a source of pride for her department which hadn't seen a female first-class student before.

However, things took a turn when she confided in me about Farouq asking her out. She didn't want to say anything hurtful to him because he was my friend too, and she didn't want to cause him any sadness.

I had never harbored so much hate in my heart for someone before that moment. Farouq, to whom I had confessed my feelings for Fareeda, went behind my back and asked her out. His betrayal left me feeling utterly betrayed, and I felt powerless to do anything but watch as it unfolded. Despite his continued pursuit, Fareeda eventually accepted his advances, and I fell terribly ill, grappling with an experience that I couldn't fully grasp or understand.

All of that is in the past now, and I'm not holding onto bitterness, but I'm cautious around Farouq. Still, it doesn't mean I don't feel some sympathy for him. Sometimes, we might discover that someone lost a crucial part of themselves in an act of service for us. Despite it not being our direct cause, they may never fully recover or forgive us for what they've lost.

It's tough when we try hard to recall good memories with someone, like our favorite moments or the first time we met, but those memories stay locked away because that person wants nothing to do with us anymore. It hurts when they shut the door on what used to be special between us.

It's tough when our past lovers turn into our worst nightmares. Everything we shared, the moments we lived through together, can turn into a nightmare for that person. We might start disliking ourselves for what they've gone through because of us. Our memories, while powerful and important, can also be incredibly delicate and easily shattered.

The threat isn't just from sickness but also from love that's not genuine. Like Farouq, who obeyed Fareeda's wish to stay away and didn't believe she'd get better in accordance to what the doctor said. It shows he might have only cared for his desires and never really loved her deeply.

Reluctantly, Fareeda's friends and I decided to speak to Farouq, hoping his visit might bring her more joy than she had since her parents took charge of her care. One Friday afternoon, we went with him to the hospital, despite his fake tears, claiming he couldn't bear to see her in that state.

In the present day, he regularly sits on a chair beside Fareeda's bed, holding her hands, amidst the hostile gaze of her family relatives and myself. He would pretend to be at peace but I can see him for what he is.

It's a worry that one day Fareeda might see that Farouq never loved her for who she truly is. I fear she might start thinking she's not good enough for him, or plead for him to stay when he moves on to the next girl he desires. But for now, Fareeda has fallen in love with Farouq all over again.