Chapter Thirteen
Aamir
After dropping Haya at work, I came straight home and decided to break the news to my father. I would give any excuse to stay away from him but right now I need his approval and consent to go ahead with the one thing that matters most to me right now- Haya.
I'm nervous but this has to be done. I can't have her any other way and friendship is out of the question. I adjust my dress shirt carefully and eye my appearance. I actually made an effort today and so AlhamdhuliAllah we're having a family dinner after about two months.
Quite frankly we don't spend much time together aside from me and my mom. My father is always missing from the equation, some might ask "Well why don't you try to fix things?" Or "He's your father, don't you care?" All I can say is that I've tried. Really I have but he's not interested unless it has something to do with money.
I clench my jaw at the thought. The only thing I want from him is to accept this marriage without making a scene. For that, I made sure to get my mother to accompany me. As if on cue there's a knock on my door.
'Aamir.' My mother calls out softly.
'Come in.' She pushes the door and smiles at me. I look away from the floor length mirror and face her fully. 'Hmm, since when did my son get so handsome?' Her hands are on her hips and I notice that even she's put an effort into this. She's wearing a purple abaya and a floral printed shawl to match.
'I'm always handsome.'
'Yes well, you are your mother's son.' I laugh lightly and walk towards her.
'I'm nervous.' She nods in understanding.
'Don't be.' I feel extremely fidgety. 'Why are you wearing glasses?' She frowns. I usually put it on after I leave the house, I guess I've gotten so used to it.
'Sorry it's part of my cover up.' I smile sheepishly and she shakes her head disapprovingly. She doesn't like that I've hidden my true self from Haya but she understands why.
'What if baba says no?'
'Aamir Rayyan, if there's one thing I've taught you, it's that you need to try before you even think of making excuses.' My mother drags me downstairs by the arm.
'I'm not calling this off, I'm just worried.' I admit. We approach the large dining table that's decorated with fancy dishes and vibrant colors. The chandeliers are lit and it looks likes we're having a feast. I smile at the sight, I'm not going to lie I really have missed this.
The funny thing is that my father's already here as well. Sure he's on a phone call but at least he's here. My smile fades the moment I see three other people standing in the corners of the room. His bodyguards.
'If you worry anymore than this, Haya will be getting married to a grandpa.' I look at her with horror filled eyes.
'That's not funny.' I say immediately.
'Then stop acting like a... What's that phrase these Americans' use?' She's thinking hard. 'Ah yes, soccer mom.' I chuckle and we head towards the table.
'Yes yes, I'm honored.' My father chuckles loudly, he's donned in a typical black suit. One hand smartly tucked into his pocket while the other holds his phone. He's rocking on his heels while we take our seats. We sit beside the head chair which is for my father of course. I gaze at my mother and take in a deep breath. She smiles reassuringly. 'Right, definitely. I understand.' He continues.
'Uthman.' My mother clears her throat. She's actually initiating conversation with him and I know she's doing it for me. As I've mentioned before, they don't have the best relationship but I know the love is there. He turns to face us and looks taken aback. 'We're here to have dinner.' She states and places her forearms on the table. Her face is blank as they have a stare down. I'm very impressed at the level of control she has over him. He still listens to her.
