𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Chapter 19

Zehra's POV

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, a satisfying smile came across my lips. It's five forty five p.m., meaning I have just fifteen minutes to put my hijab on and leave the house.

I'm wearing a red velvet dress that has small little pearls on it which makes the dress very beautiful.

I grabbed a cream coloured hijab and wore it, covering my chest and back. I placed my dupatta on my left shoulder and looked at myself one more time in the mirror before heading downstairs.

"Zehra, are you ready?" my brother asked me, as I approached him on the sofa.

"Seriously? I'm ready and you saw me that I'm ready but still you have to ask 'are you ready' like bro, have some brain," I said as he rolled his eyes at me.

"Are you going out in this?" he asked when I spun around and asked him how I was looking.

"Yeah, is something wrong with this dress?"

"No, but–"

"Kids, let's gooo," mom chimed in her cheerful voice as she entered the living room. She looks beautiful with her purple dress and black hijab.

"Mama, you look so beautiful. Mash'Allah," Hassan bhai said kissing her forehead.

"I know, I know. I'm always beautiful," she said, chuckling.

"You are," I said and hugged her.

"Mama, is this dress okay?" I asked her, spinning around once again to show her my dress because I don't trust my brother.

"Are you going out in this?" she asked the same question as Hassan bhai.

"Yes. Why? Is something wrong with my dress?" I asked looking at my dress, confused. I don't see anything wrong, the dress is perfect.

"No, it's not, but–"

"Hey, family. Are we ready to go to the party?" Dad entered the room, cutting off my mom.

"Yes, we're ready," mom said and turned to me. "But I don't think you should wear this, Pari."

"What, why? What's wrong? She looks absolutely stunning," dad said, side hugging me and giving a kiss to the crown of my head.

"Zehra, spin around," mom said and I did as I was told.

"Em, Zehra your mom is right. I don't think you should wear this," dad said, and Hassan bhai laughed.

"What? Can someone please tell me what's wrong with my dress?" I said, irritated.

"It's not the dress, Zehra."

"Then what is it?"

"Look at your feet." Mom gestured towards my feet and I looked at her confused. I lifted my dress, and. . . oh God.

"Why didn't any of you bother to tell me that I was wearing my cute pink bunny slippers instead of my heels?" My brother laughed and I shot him a glare. He quickly coughed trying to stop himself from laughing.