A Match Made In Jannah

Chapter 40

HUSNA'S POV
I hadn't been this happy in all my life. Nabeel was so sweet. It was as if he thought he wasn't good enough for me, so he placed me on a pedestal and did whatever I told him to. I finally understood what it meant to be in a situation where you tell someone to jump and they ask, "How high?"

Nabeel was the perfect gentleman. Although he acted somewhat unnatural, as if he was compensating for his supposed unworthiness, it was so adorable. He knew I loved poetry, and poems, although quite terrible, would appear on my bedside table occasionally. By occasionally, I mean every second day.

One morning, my mother decided to take the whole family to visit Aunty Haseenah. We arrived quite unexpectedly but she welcomed us in with a smile on her face. When I walked inside, Nabeel was sitting on the sofa with a controller in his hand, engrossed in his game of Call Of Duty.

He didn't notice us and when his mother called him, he looked up, startled. His smile faltered when he saw me. He probably thought that he looked like a train wreck and now I wouldn't want to marry him, but I was hyperventilating over the fact that he looked so cute at that moment.

Of course, before you're married, you want your husband to be well dressed and good looking at all times.

Today however, his hair was tousled, and his face barely washed. He looked like he had just woken up, which was quite possible, and all he wore were sleeping shorts. He didn't look perfectly made up like every other time I had seen him, but he looked perfectly made for me. I knew that we were soon to be married, but I still couldn't help but blush crimson, and try to avoid his gaze. I didn't want him to see how taken I was, and as I attempted to lower my gaze, my eyes fell on his bare chest. Astagfirullah. I shouldn't even have been thinking about him at all. I quickly turned away and began a polite conversation with Aunty Haseenah. From the corner of my eye, I could feel Nabeel's embarrassment radiate off his very unkempt but cute face.

He sprinted to the bathroom and changed into a thobe and topi. I pushed the disappointment away from my mind. It was odd how I felt as if this meant something. Of course, he'd be dressed like that more often when we were married, but his embarrassment told me that he was recovering from his awkward phase of not being in love. Nabeel was perfect. He was everything I wanted to be.

NABEEL'S POV
I loved Husna. Seriously, I did. I couldn't wait to spend the rest of my life with her, but I felt like I didn't deserve her. My mind was always on Maariah and Husna didn't deserve that. When I treated Husna like a goddess, it made me feel like I was somewhat recompensating for what happened.

I felt so broken. I couldn't tell anyone what had happened, but I needed to share this with somebody. The worst part was that it was a shared sin and if I told someone, I'd ruin Maariah's reputation. So I did the only thing I could think of doing - I ignored it. I gave Husna my everything and tried to forget about Maariah.

Most of the time, Maariah wasn't on my mind. When I would see Husna, her beauty and her character would outshine even the brightest thoughts of Maariah. The problem, I found, arose at night. I would go to sleep with my heart filled with Husna; thoughts of her smile, her laugh and the way she looked down at the ground whenever I winked at her. Come two in the morning, I would wake up in a cold sweat, anxious and afraid. I'd feel around next to me and see that Maariah wasn't there. Memories of the night would flood back to me. Her touch. Her kiss. Everything about her that I wanted again and again.

When night fell, the ghosts would come out to play. At the crack of dawn, they would go to sleep and prepare for the nightly ritual of haunting me. The moon became my enemy and my only comfort was the sun that some through Husna's eyes. How was it that my only solace was my only guilt?

My only choice was to bury my guilt, and just as I had decided to move past that mistake, my phone vibrated and a message flashed on my screen.

Come to the Darul Uloom now. We need to talk.

And the message was from none other than Danyaal.

.................
AUTHOR'S NOTE

Assalamualaikum
I apologise if you keep receiving notifications about updates.

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Much love
Sumayya