CHAPTER TWO

PRESENT DAY

Therapy June 23rd

"Hey Lolo"

Ahmad paused his pen, it was so hard, he missed her. He really missed her.

"It's me. It's your Madu and before you even ask, I'm doing terrible. You just had to win this time didn't you? You just had to prove to me that you would leave first. Why Lolo, why didn't you just wait for me?"

Ahmad was crying at this point, but he didn't stop writing. He finally felt like he was talking to her, his Lolo. His life.

"Yes I'm crying and don't you dare tell me sorry. I want you to hug me Lolo. I want you to hold me. I miss you Lolo. I miss your horrible singing voice, it hurts Lolo. It hurts that you aren't here, that I can't steal your pillow...."

His tears blurred his vision, he had to wait for them to fall.

"Our daughter, remember how I always wanted a girl and you a boy?

Remember the agreement we made, if it's a girl I'll name her and if it's a boy you would?

Well I won, but I don't care Lolo. I wish I lost, I wish I lost if that meant you being here with our baby. With me."

The pen was shaking, the journals page spotted several drops of tears. Ahmad was crying so bad he didn't think he could do it anymore, but his hand kept writing.

"Her name is Habiba, Lolo I named her after you, the love of my life. I know you'll say I gave her the name of old women but we had an agreement Lolo, so you better not pout.

Habiba is the two things that are most important to me, my wife and daughter. I swear I can still see you cringe at my cheesiness."

"Oh Lolo, Lolo" Ahmad kept saying, writing, crying.

He knew her so well.

"It's been six months, I'm sorry Lolo. I wish, I wish....

I don't know what to wish, except that you were here with me.

It's been six months Lolo, I can't do this without you. Our baby.. me...

I can't. I can't Lolo...."

Ahmad dropped his pen, he couldn't write anymore. All he felt was pain, he couldn't believe she was gone. Six months and it all still felt like today. He fell from the dining chair to the floor, hysterical.

Will this ever end?

Thirty minutes later Ahmad got up from the floor and picked up his wife's pen.

"Our Habiba, she looks just like you. She's got your smile, beautiful. Beautiful."