Chapter 30

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The Siddique household was bustling with energy as everyone was running around doing last minute preparations for the valima. Manal was setting all the corsages to be given to the female guests on a silver platter. While Muhammad and Seema were greeting family and friends who had gathered in the household and together would leave for the valima venue at the Castleknock Hotel and Country Club. Salman had gone to get the car decorated.

Nawal was sitting in front of the large mirror on the dresser in her room as the makeup artist did the last touches of makeup. The makeup artist stepped back for Nawal to scrutinize her appearance. She was donned in a white bridal dress that was heavily embroidered with dull gold zardosi and there was appliqué of light blue and pale rose pink bordering the top and the flaring lahenga (full skirt) as well as the dupatta that was set on her head. She was wearing gold and pearls jewellery with various precious gems. The long top had been custom tailored showcasing her tall slender figure. This dress was a contrast of the wedding day dress. But this dress was meant for a union with another man. A man who abandoned her. With each passing day, her bitterness towards Daud increased as reality set in.

Her eyelashes swept down to the floor concealing her anguish. "Is there something wrong?" the makeup artist asked.

Nawal eased her frown and looked up, "No there is nothing wrong. Thank you." As she gazed herself at the mirror her eyes met Salman's who was standing by the door as he entered their bedroom.

His appreciative eyes followed her from her fancy hairstyle gliding down her face to her dress. Her cheeks warmed and she turned to the makeup artist, "We are done now?"

The woman smiled, "Yes I will just pack my things then."

Salman decided to take a shower while the makeup artist prepared to depart. He was hot and sweaty after spending the day out running around doing last minute errands. His hair was all dishevelled, his beard not trimmed and his t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders in a snug fit.

Nawal sat on the bed lost in her thoughts of the evening where she will have to pretend of being a happy bride. How she wished she was still single. She missed her freedom. Although, the last two days since she was back in her new home had been pleasant. Salman had been caring towards her. He hadn't mentioned about her dressing or triggered anymore arguments. Slowly, she had felt at ease with him. If she was honest with herself, there wasn't much to complain about except that this was not how she planned her life and the sudden change was overwhelming and difficult to absorb.

Salman stepped out of the bathroom in his bath robe. His black wet hair gleamed under the lamp light and as she eyed him casually noticing he had trimmed his beard.

"Is my suit in the wardrobe?" he enquired opening the door of the closet.

"Yes," she murmured.

Taking out the suit hanger, he lay it on the bed beside her. The stash of the bathrobe was loosened and she averted her eyes in modesty to the floor. She was still not comfortable with the intimacies of the marriage. The bathrobe fell to the ground and he took hold of his boxers. When he was dressed in his trousers, he bent to lift the discarded robe.

"You are blushing," he said amusedly. His eyes never leaving her face.

She warily glanced at him and sighed in relief to see he was at least in his formal pants, "What do you expect? You are changing in front of me."

He chuckled as his arms went in the sleeves of the crisp white shirt. "You will get used to it."

She narrowed her eyes, "As if you are used to it. This is your first marriage too."

He smirked buttoning the first two buttons of his shirt, his lower ab pecs clearly visible from the gap of the shirt. He sauntered towards her with a naughty gleam in his eyes, "How do you know?"

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