For Zainab, the man she and her mother had loved deeply was also the one who tore their hearts apart, leaving without warning when she was only 13. Now, ten years later, as she pulled over to help a stranded family on the highway, she froze. There, holding the hand of a little girl, was her father. The encounter sent waves through old scars—would this be a chance for healing, or would it only deepen the wounds?
The day her father left felt like the end of light in her world. She remembers standing in their small alley, watching his car disappear down the road. The crunch of gravel beneath his tires echoed painfully, like the sound of hope being crushed.
|Reunion of Scars: A Daughter’s Reckoning with an Absent Father
“Abba!” she cried, running after him. “Please, come back!”
But he didn’t turn. He simply… left. Without an explanation, without even a glance back.
When she looked at her mother, Shabnam, she saw disbelief and heartbreak etched across her face. “Ammi?” she whispered, voice trembling.
Shabnam blinked, as if waking from a bad dream. “Come here, beta,” she murmured softly, pulling Zainab close. She smelled like home, a mixture of familiar spices and comfort, but her trembling was unmistakable.
“Why did he go, Ammi?” Zainab asked, her voice muffled against her mother’s scarf. “Why did Abba leave us?”
Her mother stroked her hair gently. “I don’t know, my love,” she whispered, voice unsteady. “I just don’t know.”
From that moment, Zainab resolved to be strong—for her mother and for herself. “We’ll be okay, Ammi,” she said, though her heart felt heavy with doubt. “We have each other.”
Her mother’s embrace tightened. “Yes, beta. We always will.”
The years blurred as Zainab and Shabnam supported one another, facing life’s challenges as a team. But there were times when Zainab felt the ache of her father’s absence sharply. The hurt lingered, though their bond grew stronger with each passing day.
Then, one evening, Zainab spotted a man and a young girl on the side of a busy highway, their thumbs raised for a ride. She slowed, looking closer, and her heart skipped. The man—he looked familiar. Against her better judgment, she pulled over, hands shaking as she parked.
In her rearview mirror, she watched the man and the little girl approach. And then, as he came into view, she recognized him. It was him—her Abba.
Zainab stepped out, voice shaking as she called, “Need a ride?”
Her father turned, beginning to smile in gratitude, but it quickly faded when he saw her. His face filled with shock and something that looked suspiciously like guilt.
“Zainab?” he said, voice filled with disbelief.
The little girl tugged at his sleeve, looking up curiously. “Do you know her, Baba?”
Zainab swallowed, trying to hold herself together. “Yes,” he replied, his voice faltering. “I know her.”
The car ride was thick with tension. Zainab gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white, her eyes fixed on the road to avoid glancing at the man beside her—the father who had vanished from her life so easily, only to appear again with another child by his side.
Finally, she broke the silence. “Tell me that’s not my sister,” she said flatly.
Her father flinched, staring ahead. “Her name is Sara,” he said softly. “She’s not your sister. Not by blood.”
Zainab exhaled slowly, but the relief was hollow. “Then who is she?”
Her father sighed, seeming to carry a burden heavier than his words. “She’s the daughter of someone I was with. Her mother left a few months ago, and I’ve been trying to look after her since.”
Zainab let out a bitter laugh, filled with years of suppressed pain. “So now you know how it feels? To be left behind by someone you love?”
Her father’s face tightened, but he didn’t argue. “I’ve made mistakes, Zainab. I’m sorry. I know it’s too late for apologies, but I want you to know that I am truly sorry.”
Tears pricked Zainab’s eyes. “Do you have any idea what you did to us?” she whispered. “To me? To Ammi?” Memories of school days filled with questions and taunts, of her mother struggling to be both parents, resurfaced, each one sharper than the last.
She glanced back to see Sara’s innocent face in the rearview mirror, her confusion and worry evident. Zainab forced herself to calm down. “Sorry?” she said quietly, turning to her father. “Sorry can’t erase years of hurt. It can’t take away the nights Ammi spent alone or the times I needed you and you weren’t there.”
When they reached his destination, he unbuckled his seatbelt, looking at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Thank you for the ride, Zainab. I don’t expect forgiveness, but please know how deeply sorry I am.”
For a long moment, Zainab couldn’t speak, her heart too tangled with memories and unresolved pain. Then, finally, she nodded toward Sara. “Take care of her. Don’t hurt her like you hurt us.”
He nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I promise.”
As she drove away, watching him disappear from her rearview mirror, Zainab felt a strange sense of release. She didn’t need her father’s presence to feel complete. She had her mother’s unwavering love and support, a love that had been her strength through the hardest times. Her phone buzzed with a message from Shabnam: “Are you on your way, beta?”
With a warm smile, Zainab replied, “Yes, Ammi. I’m coming home. I love you.”
As she drove toward her mother, Zainab felt that, no matter what she’d lost, she was complete.
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