With Love

chapter 22: a little bit of joy

Israh's excitement about Ramadan starting went out the window when she awoke to unbearable cramps, signalling that time of the month. Couldn't it have waited for a few more days?

Regardless, she still got up to have sehri with everyone, because she wasn't yet comfortable sleeping in while there were non-family people around.

It was only last year that she and her mother began getting comfortable with showing the men in their family that they weren't going to fast, and it was only last year that the men of the family stopped asking why. Progress. But doing the same in front of Uncle Ahmed and her now fiancé Asad was a little awkward in view of the new relationship they all shared.

All the while, she tried to pretend like she was all sunshine and rainbows as the pain pushed her to her limits, and the nausea nearly made her want to puke the aaloo paratha out of her system for good.

Once back in bed, sleep took its sweet time to return, and she grew grumpier with every minute that passed in that excruciating pain and discomfort. By mid-afternoon, she'd managed to find and swallow down some orange juice and two butter biscuits out of everyone's sight, nervous that any more food would get vomited all over the floor anyway.

Before long, they were standing outside the house, near their cars, ready to go as they said their goodbyes to Ahmed and Ruqayya.

Once again, Israh's eyes searched for Asad, but he was nowhere to be seen. No one seemed to have a problem with his absence. Maybe they knew he had gone somewhere. Maybe he'd already said his goodbyes to Israh's family, and she didn't notice. Had he gone to work?

Itni bhi kiyaa jaldi thi namune ko, she thought. (why was that idiot in such a rush)

Hamza was excited to get back home and away from all these new people, so he hugged Uncle Ahmed and aunty Ruqayya much more happily than before, in hopes that his parents would quickly get it over with and drive away.

Uncle ended up thrusting a few notes into Israh's hand despite hers and her parents' protests. Israh saw it was literally a hundred pounds. She'd never had that much money. Not even on Eid, because her mom would take half of it away to "save". She shoved the money into her purse, scared that she'd lose it all in the blink of an eye.

They were all about to sit in the car, when Asad appeared in his shiny, black BMW.

He parked the car haphazardly on the driveway and got out of the car with a two different gift bags, as he hurried over to Israh's parents with sheepish apologies. His hair was dishevelled, not like she'd seen the past few times, always perfectly combed back and set in place with some gel. Israh decided she liked him this way more, with his light, fluffy hair falling over his forehead, less put together but more...somehow more beautiful than ever.

His eyes thought were her favourite part of his face. They were so bright and full of life, so unlike her own which were always droopy and sad even in the happiest moments of her life.

And his smile? Swoon! His smile lit up an entire room, probably the entire world. Charming and captivating, that curl of his lips was a sight for sore eyes, and a source of jealousy for Israh, whose smile never brought anything on her face but laugh lines and wrinkles by her eyes.

Asad handed over one of the bags to Sikander, saying something about a watch and an ointment he'd heard was good for Sikander's knee pain.

"Aur ye dusra bag kiske liye hai?" (and who's the other bag for?) Aunty Ruqayya asked, her voice carrying an amused tone, her eyes flitting between Israh and him.

Israh could almost hear Noor and Tamannah giggling and bursting out into a chorus of ooh in her mind. Thank God, they weren't here. Not because Israh would be embarrassed, but because they'd probably fall for that light blush creeping onto Asad's neck and cheeks, would probably not be able to look away from his shy smile.