A Love Written by Fate

Life holds nothing more beautiful than love—especially when it blossoms between the children of neighbors. Such love is always pure, innocent, and full of playful quarrels, hiding within them the most genuine emotions.

Three years ago, my niece—the daughter of my late brother—was in her third year of middle school when our neighbor’s son asked for her hand in marriage. I strongly opposed the idea at that time, wanting her to complete her education first. She was intelligent and promising, and it was my brother’s dying wish that she succeed in life.

Her mother had passed away before she turned three. She had only one sibling, an older brother three years her senior. I still remember the day they learned of their father’s death.

My brother worked as a night guard. One night, he was accompanied by the wrong people. They knocked him unconscious, robbed the entire premises, and placed the blame on him. False witnesses and corrupt officials sentenced him to fifteen years in prison. He could not bear the shock, and on the very day of sentencing, he passed away—clinging to the hope that the truth would one day come to light.

Three months later, his innocence was proven, but by then, we had already lost him. His in-laws took in the children, while I—being childless—treated them as my own. We stayed closely connected, and the children often spent their vacations with us.

When the neighbor’s son proposed to my niece, I felt a pang of jealousy. She was stunningly beautiful—fair as moonlight, with honey-colored eyes. I secretly wished she would become my son’s life partner, for he loved her deeply. But the neighbor’s son had already won her heart.

He first mentioned her to his sister, who cleverly befriended my niece. Slowly, the two hearts drew closer. My niece fell for him completely. He treated her with great care and respect, never meeting her directly but sending gifts through his sister. When he finally spoke to her guardian—her maternal uncle—he was told to seek our approval first.

He wasted no time, traveling all the way from Cairo, Egypt, to meet us. I opposed the match, still holding onto my son’s hopes. But my father—her grandfather—stopped me, for he could see how deep and genuine their love was.

In that moment, I regretted sending her to live with her uncle. Had she stayed with us, perhaps she would have been ours. But fate had written a different story.

Eventually, the young man married her, built her a beautiful home, and made her the queen of his life. Though he wasn’t formally educated, he was wise and hardworking, starting his journey to success at a young age.

Today, we are all content. Our little princess—once burdened by the pain of orphanhood—is now living a happy, fulfilled life. My only prayer now is that her brother, too, finds a life partner who can heal the wounds of his past—the absence of both a mother and a father