The Man Who Beats His Wives Because She Couldn't Give Him a Child

 CHAPTER ONE (Continuation)

The Man Who Beats His Wives Because She Couldn't Give Him a Child

As their love grew deeper, Ibrahim and Aisha began to live in a world that felt like it was created just for them—soft, calm, warm, and full of dreams. Love has a way of making ordinary moments feel extraordinary, and for them, even the smallest things carried meaning.

Aisha would wake up every morning and check her phone—not for notifications, not for gossip, not for anything else—just for Ibrahim’s “Good morning, my heart.” He sent it every single day without fail. And she responded with the same sweetness that made him feel alive.

Their messages were filled with promises.

“I can’t wait to build a home with you,” Ibrahim would write.

“And I can’t wait to take care of that home,” Aisha would reply with a shy heart.

They planned everything like two children planning a dream future. How many children they wanted. What their house would look like. The kind of marriage they prayed for—peaceful, loving, guided by Allah.

“Wallahi,” Ibrahim once told her, “I will never raise my voice at you. Ever. My wife will never cry because of me. That is my oath.”

Aisha believed him with her entire soul.

She believed it because, at that time, his character matched every word he spoke. His kindness wasn’t a performance. Or so it seemed. He treated her like someone priceless, someone sent to him as a gift from Allah after years of hardship.

He would walk her home from gatherings, carrying any heavy bags, refusing to let her take a single burden.

“You are too soft to stress,” he would say, smiling.

“And you are too sweet to leave alone,” she would reply.

Everyone around them admired their love, saying:

“May Allah bless this couple.”

“These two are meant for each other.”

“If every relationship was like this, the world would be peaceful.”

Aisha’s friends used to tease her gently:

“You’re glowing, Aisha. Ibrahim must be treating you like a queen.”

And she would lower her gaze, smiling shyly.

Because it was true.

At least, in the beginning.

His Family Problems Began To Get Worse

Despite the sweetness between them, life tested Ibrahim. His father’s health became more unstable. Hospital visits became frequent. Bills piled up like mountains. His siblings depended on him more heavily. And while some men would take out their frustrations on the world, Ibrahim used to take comfort in Aisha.

Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he ran to her—not physically, but emotionally. She was the only person who truly listened to him without judgment.

Sometimes he would call her late in the night, his voice broken:

“I’m tired, Aisha… wallahi, I am tired of life. I don’t know why everything is on me.”

Aisha’s heart would tighten. She wanted to carry his pain with her bare hands.

“Ya Habibi… you’re not alone. Allah is with you. And I’m here too. I will never leave your side, you hear me?”

He would sigh with relief at the sound of her voice. She was like calm rain to the fire burning in him.

The more stressed he became, the more Aisha supported him. She brought food to his family’s home. She cooked for them. She cleaned their house. She helped his mother with chores. Whenever the family struggled financially, she quietly helped, sometimes paying for hospital bills without telling him how much she sacrificed.

She gave her all without complaint.

Not because she wanted praise—

but because she genuinely cared.

She Gave Him Everything She Had

One evening, Ibrahim confessed something to her.

“My salary is finished. I don’t even have transport money for the rest of the week.”

Aisha didn’t hesitate. She opened her bag, took out the little savings she had been keeping for months, and placed it gently into his hands.

“Take it,” she whispered.

He refused at first, embarrassed.

“Aisha, I can’t. This is too much—”

“It’s not too much,” she interrupted softly. “If it helps you breathe, then it is nothing.”

Her heart was pure.

Her intentions sincere.

He finally accepted it, his eyes softening with gratitude. He pulled her into a gentle hug—one he held for longer than usual.

“You are my blessing, Aisha. Wallahi, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You deserve love,” she whispered into his chest. “And I will give you all of mine.”

They Became Each Other’s Everything

Every Friday, they would meet at a quiet garden after Jumu’ah prayer. They sat under a large mango tree, speaking about life, their future, and their hopes.

Aisha talked about wanting a simple home.

A peaceful marriage.

A man who feared Allah.

Ibrahim talked about wanting a woman who would stand by him in good and bad times.

“You’re that woman,” he said. “You’re the one Allah wrote for me.”

He took her hand gently and looked into her eyes with a seriousness that made her heart tremble.

“Promise me something,” he said.

“What?” she asked softly.

“Promise that you will never leave me. No matter how hard things get.”

Aisha smiled, touching his cheek gently.

“As long as Allah gives me breath… I will stay.”

Then she whispered:

“And you? What do you promise?”

Ibrahim held her hand firmly, his voice steady:

“I promise to love you with all my life. I promise to protect you. I promise never to hurt you. Never. Even with words.”

They sealed that promise with tears in their eyes.

She Supported Him In Ways No One Saw

There were days she went hungry just so she could send him money.

Days she walked long distances because she used her transport money to buy something for his family.

Days she cried in secret, exhausted and drained—but still smiled at him so he wouldn’t worry.

She became the backbone of his life.

Whenever his mother was sick, Aisha came running with medicine.

Whenever his siblings were in trouble, she found solutions.

Whenever he felt lost, she reminded him of Allah.

She prayed for him every night in tahajjud.

She included his name in every dua she made.

She didn’t just love him.

She invested her soul in him.

And Ibrahim knew this.

He knew she was rare.

He knew she was devoted.

He knew she loved him more than she loved herself.

And he never failed to remind her:

“When I marry you, I will treat you like a queen.”

“My wife will never cry because of me.”

“You will never regret choosing me.”

Aisha believed him.

Because at that time… his eyes carried sincerity.

His words were warm.

His actions were gentle.

If someone had told her that this same man—

this same gentle, loving, grateful man—

would one day raise his hands against her…

she would have sworn by Allah it was impossible.

But life has a way of hiding the future from us.

For now, the love between them was strong, sweet, and beautiful.

Too beautiful.

A love full of flowers—but with thorns buried deep underneath, waiting for the right time to pierce.

The darkness had not yet shown itself.

But it was coming.

Quietly.

Slowly.

Unseen.

To be continued.......