Morning came without bringing Rania even the slightest warmth. After sitting in the hospital hallway all night, she still felt as though she were trapped in a nightmare that would end any moment. But whenever her eyes fell on the morgue door in front of her, reality struck her all over again in exactly the same way.
Arman was really gone.
Rania lowered her head and gripped the hem of her shirt tightly. The night before, she had still hoped the doctor would say it was all just a misunderstanding, but that hope slowly died when she saw her husband’s face for the last time. There would be no more smile to greet her whenever Arman came home, no more voice calling her name from the front door.
“Man...” she whispered.
Only one name managed to escape her lips. The tears she had been holding back began to flow again, soaking her cheeks beyond her control. Rania wanted to say so many things to her husband, but not a single sentence felt sufficient to describe how completely shattered her heart was.
A little while later, a staff member came over to Rania to take care of the necessary arrangements. There were documents to sign, Arman’s belongings to take home, and countless other things that someone who had just lost her husband should never have had to think about. But life did not stop simply because someone was grieving.
Rania was given a small bag that belonged to Arman.
Her hands trembled as she opened it. Inside were a wallet, a phone, several bills, and the house keys Arman carried with him every day. Rania took the keys and clasped them tightly, as if the small objects still held a piece of her husband.
Among those belongings, Rania found a folded piece of paper.
She opened it slowly.
Arman’s handwriting filled part of the page. Rania recognized it without needing to read the name at the bottom. It was a simple note listing a few household necessities he wanted to buy when he received his next paycheck.
At the very bottom was a sentence that made Rania’s chest tighten.
“Don’t forget to buy something for our baby.”
Rania covered her mouth.
Her sobs broke free.
She pressed the paper to her chest and bent forward. Arman had still been thinking about their child just hours before the accident, but now he would never have the chance to see that child’s face.
“Why did it have to be now, Man?”
There was no answer.
The question only came back to her as silence.
The day of the funeral passed by far too quickly. People came to offer their condolences, several relatives tried to comfort Rania, and the neighbors helped prepare everything that needed to be done. Rania heard many voices around her, but her mind felt empty.
She simply stood beside the grave with one hand resting on her stomach.
When the last handful of dirt was scattered, Rania finally realized there was no going back.
Arman would not come home that night.
He would not open the door.
He would not sit at the dining table.
And he would never ask about her or their baby again.
Rania stared at the grave for a long time.
“I’ll take care of our baby,” she said softly.
Her voice trembled, but she tried to make it sound firm. She did not know how, but she knew one thing for certain—their child could not lose both parents at once.
After everyone had left, Rania was still standing there.
Ms. Sari, the neighbor who had stayed with her since yesterday, approached and gently touched her shoulder. “Ran, let’s go home. You need to rest.”
Rania shook her head.
“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Ms. Sari.”
Ms. Sari did not answer right away. She knew there were no words capable of erasing the loss of a woman who had just lost her husband.
“Take it one step at a time,” she finally said. “You don’t have to think about everything today.”
Rania looked at her with swollen eyes.
“But I have a child, Ms. Sari.”
Her hand returned to her stomach.
“I have to think about everything.”
Ms. Sari fell silent.
Rania looked at Arman’s grave one last time before finally walking away. Every step felt heavy, but she forced herself to keep moving because she knew another life still depended on her.
When she arrived home, the silence felt far more painful.
Usually, the sound of the door opening would be followed by Arman’s footsteps. Sometimes her husband would come home complaining about how tired he was, then sit in the living room chair and ask whether Rania had eaten.
But that day, there was no sound at all.
Rania stood in front of the door for a long time.
She still hoped to hear the sound of a key turning from the other side.
That small, irrational hope only made her chest ache more.
Rania then walked to the bedroom. Arman’s clothes, not yet put away, were still on the table, while a glass her husband often used remained in the same place. Rania touched the glass gently before pulling her hand back.
“Why is everything still here?”
Her tears fell again.
Arman’s belongings were still in the house.
Their photos still hung on the walls.
Her husband’s clothes were still in the closet.
But he was gone.
Rania sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her knees. For a while, she let herself cry, because there was no one in that room she needed to stay strong for.
Then her hand moved toward her stomach.
She stroked it slowly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Her voice was faint.
“Mom is still sad.”
Rania took a deep breath before continuing.
“But Mom won’t give up.”
She looked at Arman’s photograph on the bedside table.
“Even though Mom has to do this alone now.”
The words felt so heavy to say.
Rania was only twenty-seven years old. She had never imagined having to raise a child without a husband, much less while she herself still needed someone to lean on.
But there was no other choice.
She had to learn.
She had to work.
She had to survive.
Not only for herself, but for the little life still growing inside her womb.
Night fell again.
Rania sat by the window, gazing at the dark sky. Arman was no longer there to talk with her about baby names, the dream home they wanted, or the future they had once imagined together.
All those plans now belonged to her alone.
Rania closed her eyes.
For the first time, she said something she had never dared to say before.
“Starting today, I have to be both Mom and Dad to our child.”
Her tears fell again.
But this time, Rania did not let herself remain submerged in grief.
She slowly got to her feet.
Tomorrow, she had to start thinking about how she was going to survive.
Because her life had indeed changed.
But her child’s life had only just begun.