Chapter 6

4.6K 326 18
                                    

A/N: I'd like to dedicate this part and the rest of the book to one of my closest friends Aati_1607 for her support, feedback and inspiration. There are so many other people I'd love to put here but I feel she deserves it most...

_______________

ZAID'S POV:

At the supper table, my parents began discussing marriage, again. My mother informed my father of all the girls who were getting married, and some boys who were too. She mentioned a few names of girls who were getting proposed and I sort of listened, absent mindedly.

"Fathima Gori's daughter got engaged last week, and oh, you know Hawa's son proposed to that girl from Phoenix. We're related to them you know, but from very far off. Oh, did you hear that Hamida's daughter Husna was supposed to get proposed, but she rejected. In Sha Allah things will work out for them."

My mind reeled. I knew Aunty Hamida. And her daughter Husna? Something told me that I had met her before, but I wasn't sure. I searched my mind for incidents, and suddenly realised who she was. The girl in the white scarf. She seemed pious enough, or so I thought, not totally pious but not a one hundred percent haraami either.

I cleared my throat, wondering whether I should ask my parents if we could go and see her. We were leaving for a one week holiday in two days time, so I needed to act now or I might not get a chance again.

"Uh, Abba. Maybe I should go and see other girls now. I mean, Safiyyah didn't work out, but I'm ready. Like, maybe, Husna. She seems l...l...like a nice girl..."

My mother stared at me and then just said "Okay." I didn't clarify or elaborate, I just sat poking at my plate of pasta with my fork, unable to comprehend what I had just done. Seriously, Zaid. Urgh this is going to be so awkward. I mean, I don't know but I have a gut feeling it will be infinity times more awkward than Safiyyah's one was. And that was the height of awkwardness. What have you got yourself into Zaid?

My mother left the room and I knew that she was phoning Aunty Hamida. I stood outside the door and eavesdropped, but since I could only hear once side of the conversation, all I picked up on was that it was a yes. Nothing else.

This was the first time that I had experienced killer butterflies. The sort that give you shaky hands, heart palpitations and nerves that were not soothable in the least.

A Match Made In JannahWhere stories live. Discover now