Chapter 2 - Hearts and Barriers
Chapter 2: Hearts and Barriers
(One Year Earlier, Valentine’s Day)
Shei Er closed the door of her bedroom quietly, leaning against it, breathing shaky. Outside her window, soft moonlight filtered through translucent curtains, casting a gentle glow across her trembling hands. She sank onto her bed, overwhelmed by what had just happened—Aleem’s confession echoed clearly in her ears.
“I really like you, Shei Er. I have for a long time now.”
The words lingered, warm yet painful.
She shut her eyes, pressing her palms gently against her chest, hoping it would calm the storm within. Aleem’s eyes had been earnest, sincere, his voice trembling slightly. And yet, she’d rejected him.
“Aleem… we can’t. You know why. Our religions, our families… they won’t understand.”
He’d nodded gently, eyes sad but accepting. She’d hated herself for saying it, but she’d been honest—painfully so. How could love blossom when the roots themselves were entangled in complexity?
Now, alone in her quiet room, doubt gnawed at her heart.
She reached for a photograph on her bedside table—her parents, smiling warmly, standing outside a temple in Penang. Buddhism wasn’t just a religion for her; it was the tapestry of her family’s history, their identity, and their way of life.
She remembered her mother’s gentle voice every morning chanting softly in prayer, her father’s quiet reverence when offering incense. Their values shaped her; the Buddhist teachings of peace, compassion, and mindfulness formed the bedrock of her soul.
Yet Aleem had his own world, deeply rooted in his Islamic faith—equally beautiful, but different. She knew that marrying him meant more than a simple wedding. She would have to embrace Islam, reshape her beliefs, and potentially risk disappointing her parents.
The weight of those thoughts felt suffocating. Could love truly transcend such barriers?
Shei Er sighed deeply, clutching the photograph tightly. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, blurring the faces of her parents.
“If I chose him, would you forgive me?” she whispered, voice trembling. “Would you understand?”
Silence answered her.
She laid the photograph down and gazed at the ceiling, feeling utterly lost. Aleem’s warm laugh, his kindness, the effortless joy of their friendship—could she really bear losing all that?
Yet how could she live with the guilt of disappointing her parents, who had given her everything?
A quiet knock interrupted her turmoil. “Shei Er?” It was her mother’s gentle voice.
She quickly wiped away the tears. “Come in, Ma.”
Her mother stepped in softly, concern evident on her face. “Is something troubling you, girl?”
Shei Er hesitated, then finally asked softly, “Ma, if you had to choose between your happiness and your family’s expectations, what would you do?”
Her mother sat gently beside her, smoothing her hair affectionately. “Why must happiness and family be separate?”
“What if love makes them separate?”
Her mother’s eyes softened, sensing the struggle behind the question. “True love, girl, isn’t meant to divide families—it should bring them closer. If it truly does, your father and I would find a way to accept it. Because your happiness will always be ours.”
“But what if it’s not simple?” Shei Er whispered, voice trembling.
Her mother smiled gently, holding her daughter’s hand reassuringly. “Love rarely is, my dear. But remember—what matters most is how clearly your heart speaks, and how bravely you listen.”
Her mother gently squeezed her hand before leaving quietly, leaving Shei Er alone with those comforting yet challenging words.
Lying back on her pillow, Shei Er closed her eyes again, breathing deeply.
Could she bravely listen to her heart? Could Aleem and she find a way to bridge the divide?
She didn’t have answers yet, but a quiet determination stirred within her.
“One step at a time,” she whispered softly to herself, remembering Aleem’s hopeful voice.
She would try. For Aleem, for herself, and perhaps even for her parents—she would find the courage to face the complexities ahead.
Slowly, quietly, sleep found her, carrying her troubled heart gently toward dreams of possibilities yet unexplored.