A Match Made In Jannah

Chapter 25

Husna's POV

I tell Layyah everything, from Maariah's past to how it affects my future. I babble on about the conversation we had just had and about Zaid, who Layyah was certainly surprised about. She squealed at all the cute moments and whimpered at all the right parts. She was a great listener who didn't interject with useless advice, and let me rant until I was tired.

Me: So I don't know whether I should marry Nabeel and lose my friendship with Maariah, or vice versa. It's not fair on Maariah in the first place but it's also not fair on me!!!

Layyah: NO. IT. IS. NOT. YOUR. FAULT. Maariah may be upset because of what she did and what she thought would happen in the future, but a lot of people want to leave their past behind and Nabeel is one of them. He doesn't want Maariah to reappear in his life and take him back to his past. Of course he may still have a sense of feeling for her, but even if Luke changed, you wouldn't go back to him, would you?

Me: I can't do this to Maariah though. She's hurt and I'm marrying her ex lover.

Layyah: Think about it carefully. You're sacrificing your happiness with the man of your dreams for someone's past romance. You and I both know that what they had wasn't real. Stop shooting yourself down for it.

Me: I don't want to break my friendship with Maariah.

Layyah: Don't worry. She's mature enough to see the reasoning behind your actions later on. For now, let her mourn. She's in denial and pain and the floodgates of her past have opened up again. Just be patient

Me: Oooooh someone's being poetic. I thought that was my forte but I'll hand it over to you!

Layyah: See? Smilllleeee. Now come on. Mr Right is going to be here any minute.

We scurried downstairs, waiting patiently for the family to show up. As per Indian mentality, we either expected them just before Asr, which was right about now, or a tad bit late for supper. There was absolutely no in between with the brown nation.

Even though I was feeling much better now, and had about as much excitement bubbles as butterflies, I knew that Layyah was, by far, a lot more excited. She made me pose against the white washed walls in my garden, sit in a field of flowers, and model on the roof in my stunning attire.

I loved her for distracting me from my nerves and issues, but when I heard a car pull into the driveway, I abandoned our little modelling session and sprinted for the door, only to realise that my hijab had slipped off and needed to be tied. Layyah quickly adjusted it for me and with that we descended the flight of stairs to the entrance hall, where we greeted our guests with smiles from Paradise and dainty, damsel behaviour. I felt proud of myself, knowing that I had never been to finishing school but could behave just as elegantly.

Nabeel's mother was the sweetest woman that I'd ever met. Although she had been quite reserved before, she seemed to take a liking to me now, and spoke to me as if I was already her daughter in law. She seemed like lovely woman, and I hoped that I wouldn't be let down by my expectations of her courtesy. She didn't look like the tyrannical mother in law that you find in every Indian soapie, or the overprotective mother that believed her son was perfect. I liked her, and took that as a good sign.

The men left for Asr salaah while my mother insisted that Layyah sit with Aunty Haseenah in the lounge, because no one wants to let their future mother in law work at the proposal. My mother and I scurried about in the kitchen, putting the final touches to delicate desserts and adding a sprinkling of spices to the main course. We had to make sure that it was perfect.

The doorbell rang, and I left to attend to it, sure that it was the men returning for Salaah. I was dying for another peek at Nabeel, so my girly smile and fluttering eyelashes were not ready for what I was greeted with when I opened the door.