Just Make Du'aa

• t e n •

Dina

    Junior year was definitely something else. It's only been three weeks and I already have homework up to my elbows. Farouz and I fell into a schedule. Whoever woke up first would make breakfast and wake the other. On the days I had class, we'd eat in the car as he dropped me off. He'd give me a quick kiss and I'd be off to school. When my classes ended, I'd either catch a ride with Amity or Farouz would pick me up, depends on how busy he was that day. We'd usually get home at around six. The two of us made dinner together, ate, then we'd get to work. At times, one of us would clean while the other did their work. Or we'd both sit on the couch, our legs intertwined and our laptops charging as we wrote papers and did research. Life was busy, but it was good. Whenever I was with him, time would fill with laughter and kisses. School was stressful, his work was tedious, but we still had fun.

    It was a Friday, and Farouz stayed at his office later than usual with an emergency case. I had finished my reading for the day so I made us a full meal. There's been something on my mind and I was nervous to bring it up, for some reason I felt that food would make it easier. I heard the door open, followed by, "assalamualaikum," in a singsongy voice.

    "Wa alaikum," I greeted him in the hallway. Farouz was ready, his arms open as I jumped into them. He pressed me against the cool wall and kissed me slowly. "Long day at work?" a giggle escaped from my lips.

    He huffed, burying his face in my neck, "something like that." Then he sniffed my neck, "you smell so good."

    My hands tugged his hair, urging him to look up at me, "you're joking right? I've been in the kitchen for hours."

    Farouz threw his head back, eyes closing as he laughed, "actually, that's exactly why you smell good."

    It was my turn to laugh, "is this your way of telling me you're hungry?" In reply, he hugged me tighter and smiled sweetly. "Well come on then," I set my feet on the ground, "I already set the table."

    "You're perfect," Farouz kissed my hair as we walked. "But I should probably go pray first."

When he finished praying, Farouz walked into approached the dining table, "Oh wow, this looks amazing!" He slid into his seat, said bismillah (in the name of God) and started eating. I watched him as he ate, there was always the possibility that what I wanted to say will ruin his mood. Actually, it probably will do just that. So I decided to wait until after he finished eating.

    "Is it good?" I asked, playing with my food.

    He swallowed the food in his mouth and said, "it's wonderful mashallah, thank you so much. Why aren't you eating? Are you feeling okay?"

    "Yeah," I answered quickly, "I am eating."

    Tilting his head, he said, "you're not. What's on your mind?"

    "Nothing."

    "Dina."

    "Farouz."

    "What's going on?"

    I slumped in my seat and sighed, he can read me too well. "I just... there's something on my mind."

    My husband reached over for my hand and smiled, "what is it?"

    "Um," I placed my other hand on top of his, "when we were at my parents house I asked you a question and never got an answer."

    He shrugged, "I can't remember, sorry. What was it?"

    "I...if we could perhaps go see your parents?" My heart thumped against my ribcage.