Muslim Love Story (Under Major Editing)

Chapter 4 - FRIDAY

Edited. ✅

x HIRA x

"Mum, I'm scared." I said, putting the forks next to all the plates that we had set up on the dining table, making sure they were all perfectly aligned.

"Why, honey?" She asked softly, rubbing my back in comfort as she walked past me and into the kitchen to take out the teacups.

"I don't know. I know that don't want this to progress, but I still feel nervous to meet them." I sighed.

From the moment my alarm had gone off this morning and all through my shower, until after I had dried my hair and prepared my outfit, I couldn't stop the increased beating of my heart and the millions of questions going through my head.

I was nervous and there was no doubt about it, but why? Surely, I wasn't excited for this and I clearly didn't want to get married. So why wasn't I completely calm? Why did I feel the same way a bride would feel on her wedding day?

Naturally, you would assume that since I didn't want to marry Amir, I wouldn't be nervous of meeting his family, but I was more than nervous. It was odd and I didn't like it.

After Amir's first day at our school, I hadn't talked to him at all. He had managed to fit right into the 'cool' group and had made many friends already. Just about all the girls in the school were practically in love with him and the amount of times I'd hear his name from people talking about him annoyed me greatly.

"That's normal, love. It's the first time a potential spouse is coming to our house for you." She said, trying to validate the way I was feeling.

"Mum, he's not a potential spouse. I'm not getting married to him, period...or anyone else for that matter." I added.

"Oh, stop being so quick to judge." She said, waving her hand dismissively as I put the jug of orange juice on to the table while she made a platter of tomatoes, cucumber, cheese and olives.

Even though she knew I was going to say no, she was still excited.

"Yeah, okay." I mumbled to myself. Apart from Hawwa and Waleed, no one knew that we went to the same school yet.

"You'll be perfectly fine, honey, and it'll all go by smoothly. Don't worry." She finally spoke, dismissing the conversation with a kiss to my temple before telling me to go upstairs to get dressed. The guests would arrive any time now.

"InshaaAllah, mum." I sighed, walking up the stairs and beginning to get ready.

I opted to wear a pair of blue jeans and a white tunic with my plain black hijab - nothing too fancy. It was only breakfast anyway.

I'd change into the outfit we bought at the shops with my mother for the lunch reservation after the men had left to jumu'ah.

"Hira," My dad said in a warning tone as I walked down the stairs. "I told you wear a skirt or dress."

"Baba, I'm not going to dress up for breakfast." I said. Like my mother, my dad was also more excited than me and they were both making this 'meeting' seem way bigger than what I wanted it to be.

If it were up to him, I'd be wearing a dress that was worthy of being worn to an engagement.

He shook his head but kept walking nonetheless as I walked back into the kitchen where my mum was yelling at my little brother for picking at the cheese on the platter before the guests came.

We continued setting up the table until my dad's voice broke me out of my reverie.

"Hira! Mariam!" He called, increasing my already high heart rate which jumped to record high beats per minute after I heard the doorbell.