Chapter 107 : Advice from Farah.

The steady, monotonous sound of Professor Syed's voice filled the lecture hall, much like a persistent buzzing sound. The room was uncomfortably hot, making it hard to stay focused. Ava sat on the edge of her seat, quickly jotting down notes with intense concentration, her forehead creased in deep thought. However, beside her, Farah slouched in her chair, eyes closed tightly, completely immersed in a peaceful slumber, unaware of the ongoing lecture.

With a playful gleam in her eye, Ava pressed her heel against Farah's shoe, a gentle nudge to jolt her awake. Farah, startled, shot upright with a glare, "What?" 

Ava offered a sheepish smile. But stayed silent because of the class. 

Not wanting to disrupt the class, Farah reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook. She flipped to a blank page and tore it out, passing it to Ava. With a pen in hand, Ava began to writing a message for Farah, "Lecture! You were asleep."

Farah grabbed the pen from Ava's hand and wrote back, "Prof. Syed could talk for hours and still manage to say nothing. I hate him. Does he even know what he's teaching, or is he just rambling on for the sake of it?"

Ava shook her head. She grabbed the pen and wrote, "Come on, let's give him some credit. He's an expert in his field! He has two master's degrees. Surely, he must know something."

Farah sighed and wrote, "I still can't make sense of anything he's saying. Well degrees don't guarantee wisdom. They just mean you're good at memorizing things." Farah rolled her eyes. 

Ava smiled but didn't respond to Farah anything. She tried to focus on the lecture. Moments passed. Farah noticed the frown on Ava's face. 

Farah again wrote, "Why the pensive frown? Why does it look like you're lost in your thoughts?"

Ava hesitated, her fingers poised above the paper. The memory of the heated exchange with Ibrahim, the simmering tension that still clung to her like a shroud, made her bite her lip. Finally, she wrote, "Just a pre-university argument with husband, nothing major."

"Don't worry, honey," Farah wrote, "By tonight, when you two cuddle up in bed, all will be forgiven and forgotten."

Ava's pen froze mid-air, a bewildered frown replacing her previous stoicism. "Bed?" she wrote, confusion etching its way across her brow. "We... we don't sleep together."

Farah's eyes widened in disbelief. She reread the message twice, her jaw dropping with each confirmation. "Not… together?" she wrote, her incredulity oozing off the page. They didn't have any conversation previously in this topic. So it was unknown for Farah. 

Ava nodded mutely. "Separate beds," she scrawled. 

Farah, unable to contain her amusement, buried her face in her hands, the stifled snickers shaking her frame.

Just then, the bell shattered the professor's monotone, signaling the sweet release of freedom. Professor Syed, with a final self-important cough, declared, "Tomorrow, at precisely nine AM, the scholarship recipient list will be posted on the university website. Do check, everyone." With that, he swept out of the room, leaving behind a sea of relieved faces of students and buzzing whispers.

Ava, her face lit with anticipation, turned to Farah. "Do you think I can get the scholarship?"

Farah patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Of course you will, silly. After all, you're one of the top-ranking students in our class."

Ava responded, "But this scholarship doesn't necessarily follow the university rank, Farah. It's a different criteria altogether." 

Farah told, "Leave it now," her gaze shifting around the now-emptying classroom. She leaned closer to Ava and asked, "Now tell me, Ava, didn't you mention that you love Ibrahim?" 

"Y-Yes," Ava stammered, "but… what does that have to do with anything?"

Farah tapped Ava's head playfully with her finger. "Silly girl, what I meant is, if you love him, then why aren't you closer? I mean… sleeping together?"

Ava's cheeks flushed with embarassment and surprise. She glanced around to ensure no one else overheated their conversation, "Umm....We aren't that close to sleep together."

Farah shook her head, "Ava, darling , in a relationship, you have to show some effort too! It's not a one-sided affair, you know. If you want a happy marriage, then you have to put yourself out there."

The idea of sharing a bed with Ibrahim, of falling asleep next to him and waking up to his face, sent shivers down her spine. But it also felt… right. It felt like a step closer to the love she dreamt of, the love she believed they could have, "But… but doesn't sleeping on the same bed… doesn't that… mean…"

Farah burst into laughter. "Silly girl," she teased, her eyes sparkling. "Sharing a bed doesn't automatically mean you're diving headfirst into the physical realm. It's about closeness, about building trust and intimacy, about simply… being there for each other, even in the quiet moments of sleep. Maybe he's just waiting for you to make the first move, Ava. Show him you're comfortable, that you trust him. A simple invitation to share your space, to cuddle under the covers, could be all it takes."

Ava placed her left hand on her chin as if she is thinking. Was she ready for that kind of intimacy? Was she even sure what it meant?

Farah saw the uncertainty clouding her friend's eyes and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't pressure yourself, Ava. This is about what feels right for you, not what you think you 'should' do. But remember," she added with a wink, "a little bit of boldness can go a long way in a marriage. Spice things up, surprise him! After all, who says the man always has to make the first move?"

Ava's mouth fell open. She again looked at the class. The class now really empty. She told, Farah! Do you know what are telling me to do? I .... I can't even imagine...."

And Farah started to laugh. She rose from her seat and told, "Let's go."

....

In those bittersweet days, Aqil and Nayla found themselves caught in the whirlwind of emotions and challenges. Nayla's delicate health condition after undergoing a C-section left her confined to the hospital bed, while their newborn son Sahil had to be placed in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). 

Nayla, weakened by the surgery and the strain of giving birth prematurely, had to endure the pain and discomfort of the recovery process. She found itself in a strange and uncertain space between motherhood and recovery. The nights were filled with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the soft whispers of nurses, their presence a constant reminder of the delicate balance between life and healing. 

During the day, Nayla's body felt uncomfortable as her breasts filled with milk that she couldn't yet release. They became heavy and full, aching to provide nourishment for her baby. But the nursery remained empty, waiting for the moment when she could finally hold her little one.

Nayla also experienced postpartum bleeding, called lochia, which would come and go. It reminded her of the physical toll childbirth had taken on her body. She experienced this discharge, which consisted of blood, tissue, and mucus from the uterus. At first, the flow was heavy, resembling a heavy period. Overtime, the bleeding gradually decreased in amount and changed in colour, transitioning from bright red to a lighter shade. The bed sheets felt cold and impersonal against her sensitive skin, making her long for the warmth and closeness she craved with her baby.

Meanwhile in NICU, Sahil lay hooked up to various monitors and machines. He was only a few days old, yet his condition was far from ideal. The couple had chosen the name 'Sahil' for their son, a name carrying the hope for a smooth and serene life. However, Sahil's early days were anything but serene. Wires and tubes were attached to his tiny form, monitoring his vital signs and keeping a vigilant eye on any changes. 

The doctors and nurses in the NICU worked tirelessly to provide Sahil with the best care possible. They adjusted his oxygen levels, administered medications, and closely monitored his feeding routine.

However, financial constraints weighed heavily on Aqil, as he was not financially well-off. Determined to provide for his family, he reached out to friends, relatives, and even dipped into his savings, which he had meticulously set aside for their future in Kuala Lumpur.

Recently, Aqil had moved to a shared paying guest accommodation near the hospital, as it was more affordable than a private room. It was a modest place, but he was grateful for a roof over their heads during this challenging period. Today was the day Aqil had decided to tackle the hospital bill. 

After getting a shower, Aqil combed his hair infront of the small mirror. He slipped two apples and an orange into a bag for Nayla and left the room. It was a short five-minute walk from his accommodation to the hospital. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, and reminded himself that he had to be strong for Nayla and Sahil.

Finally, Aqil arrived at the hospital and made his way to the reception desk. The lady behind the counter greeted him with a warm smile, "Good Evening, Sir." 

"Good evening," Aqil started, "I need to settle the bill for."

The receptionist, a woman with a practiced smile, glanced at the computer screen, "Name, please?"

Aqil gave Nayla's name, his fingers tapping nervously on the counter. He fished out his card, ready to face the numbers of the bill. 

But the receptionist's next words, spoken in a surprised tone, stopped him in his tracks. "Sir, the bill is already paid."

Aqil blinked, his brain struggling to process the unexpected information. "What? Paid? Already?"

The receptionist gave him a reassuring smile. "Yes, sir. Completely cleared. Even the advance payments for the next three months have been taken care of."

Aqil's confusion deepened. His fingers tightened around the card, "Sister, please check again. I… I haven't paid anything."

The receptionist, with a patient frown, leaned closer to the screen, checking and rechecking the details, "Nayla Khan, C-section delivery, newborn son Sahil, right?"

Aqil nodded dumbly.

With a final click, the receptionist told, "Yes sir, the bill is completely paid."

"Can you tell me who paid it? Please?" Aqil asked in Disbelief. 

After another moment of meticulous scrutiny the receptionist looked up, "Sir, the bill is indeed cleared. But there's no mention of who paid it."

Aqil stood there, his small bag of fruit forgotten in his hand. The receptionist, sensing Aqil's disbelief, gestured towards the computer screen and invited him to confirm the details for himself. Aqil leaned in, his eyes fixed on the screen as he took in the magnitude of the bill. It was a staggering amount, far beyond anything he could have imagined. His heart skipped a beat, and a mix of awe and disbelief washed over him.

 Who could have done this? How could someone pay such an exorbitant bill on their behalf? He knew deep down that he didn't have any wealthy friends or relatives who could have made such a payment. The realization that a stranger had come forward to alleviate their burden left him both puzzled and grateful.