Under the Olive Tree

29. Tis'a Wa'Ishrun

The day of Amani and Muhsin's katb al-kitab, translated to the writing of their book and the formal beginning of their documented marriage, she spent hours in the bedroom with her cousin, aunt, and mother being prepared. She wore a long white dress that fell smoothly to her feet, showing only the edges of her white sandals. The sleeves reached her palms and grew in width from her shoulders to her hands.

The dress's chest filled with red embroidery that tightened the material slightly around her waist before extending into the sleeves and lower skirt of the garment. They drew diamond-shaped elements scattered neatly over the white skirt, thick embroidery covering the lowest edges of her dress.

On her head, Amani wore a gold plate-decorated cap similar to the one Reema had worn on her wedding day and the white material perfectly fell down her back. Subtle red embroidery lined its bottom to match the dress.

Reema did her makeup to accentuate her eyes and darken the color of her lips. Amani let her aunt and mother offer their opinions, she wasn't bothered by her makeup as much. In her dress, she felt like a princess. In her heart and mind, thoughts of Muhsin were the only ones she could bring herself to form.

She wondered if he would be getting ready as she was now. She wondered how he looked. How he would look at her when he saw how they'd dressed her so beautifully for him. Would he finally give her the compliment she'd wanted to hear from him ever since their first meeting? She was determined to receive it by the end of the night.

When the car arrived, Amani sat in the back with her mother and Reema sat beside the driver—seeing as he was her husband. The flower-crowned car made its way down the main roads toward the masjid where the katb al-kitab would take place. Nearly all the stores were closed, their families already at the masjid for the marriage of Muhsin Awad, whom nobody believed would marry.

That's what Reema said. In fact, that's what she and her husband talked about the entire time they drove through the town.

In the back, Amani felt her chest tighten.

This was it.

This was the moment that her life would become intertwined with Muhsin's. From now on, it would be Amani and Muhsin—a set of names that did not exist in the same sentence until a few months ago.

She turned to her mother when she felt her hand on hers. "It's natural to feel nerves, my daughter," she reassured her. "This is the beginning of a new chapter of your life. It will be a chapter alongside your partner, not only in marriage, but in the rest of your life. How do you feel knowing it is him?"

Amani pondered to herself. "I don't know. I feel a lot."

Her mother smiled. "That is okay. What matters is how you feel when you see him at the masjid. It will all be clear then. If you have any worries or second thoughts, we will listen."

They arrived only a few moments later and, at the sight of all the children and people lining the stairs and awaiting her, Amani felt her heart sink into her chest. She took her father's arm where he was waiting for her alongside her brothers at the bottom, using her hold on him to ensure she did not trip on the long staircase. She kept her gaze low, watching the elevated ground with each step until they reached the top. Yazan stood on the other side of her as they entered through the main entrance of the building, drawing everyone's attention.

She scanned the dispersed crowd for any familiar of face, searching for Muhsin or his family, but the adrenaline racing through her bloodstream made it difficult to focus on anything except the number of people who had come to see them. Counted with the dozens who had already been here for the afternoon prayer, it had to be over a hundred. Maybe even a few hundred.