A Match Made In Jannah

Chapter 54

HUSNA'S POV

I didn't know why Nabeel was upset with me, but I apologised anyway. My father had told me that only when you realise to apologise for mistakes you haven't made, will you become a woman and only then would I be fit to be a wife. I apologised to Nabeel yet he did not care. All he focused on was what I had done, supposedly, to Maariah. He ignored what Maariah had done to him and what she had done to us. She had ruined the idea of us. Yes, we would still get married, but I'd know that where my first touch was from him, it wasn't his first. I still forgave him though, because I loved him.

Regardless of how much I loved him, I knew that the truth would have to come to light. There was no denying that Nabeel had to tell my parents, yet I didn't want them to know. All I could do was sit in my room and sob. When my mother walked in, she noticed the untidy mess of clothes on the floor, and reprimanded me for the state of my room. Not for one second did she bother to look up and see the turmoil I was going through. When my father came to my room to call me to help, he saw my tear-streaked cheeks and asked me what was wrong. I refused to tell him, yet he repeated his question again and again.

Suddenly, I was no longer an eighteen, almost nineteen, year old girl. I was my daddy's little girl. I was the girl that would hug him in the morning and wrap my short arms around his cold neck. I was the child that told him stories of my days at school. I was the little princess that he would tuck into bed every day and I needed my king.

"Abba," I sobbed. "Nabeel... Nabeel made a girl pregnant."

My father reacted exactly the way I expected him to. He just continued rubbing my back and became slightly redder in the face.

"We'll break off the marriage then, Husna. It's not your fault."

"But it is!" I cried. "If I was good enough, no one else would have been able to make him do that."

"No one made him do it. He chose to," Abba replied coolly.

"No he didn't! She forced herself on him. And now she's pregnant and he's running after her and her mother kicked her out of the house and he said I hurt her feelings!" I blurted out.

"Who is she?"

"It's... It's Maariah," I whispered.

MAARIAH'S POV

My phone rang next to me and I groaned. Who would call so early in the morning? I had just managed to close my eyes after Fajr when the shrill noise interrupted my sleep. I tried to roll over, but my movement was obstructed by my growing belly. I realised then that I wasn't at home. This wasn't my bed. This wasn't my room. This wasn't my house. The events of yesterday came flooding back to me.

"Nabeel?" I whimpered. No one answered.

"Nabeel?" I asked again. Still no answer.

The phone rang again. Maybe it had been Nabeel trying to wake me up and not walk into the room and embarrass me. It would have been embarrassing if he had walked in, because my dishevelled hair and tired eyes were not a pretty sight. I picked up the phone and the name that flashed on my screen was not Nabeel, but Husna.

Come to my house straight from wherever you are. Your parents are waiting for you. It's going to be okay

I tried to contain the shock. Okay? Was Husna, the girl who told me to leave, telling me it would be okay? A sharp rap on the door made me jump from my bed. I tied my hair into a ponytail and ran my fingers through it just to look presentable. With one splash of water on my face, I was ready, and opened the door to see Nabeel standing there looking as handsome as ever. This time, he didn't have on a Kurta. In its place was a figure hugging galaxy t-shirt and black skinny jeans with rips at the knees.

"I just got out of bed. Excuse this. I was wearing it underneath my Kurta. Anyways, we have to go to Husna's house from here. She messaged me. Get dressed while I get ready," he said, smiling warmly. I nodded meekly. The shimmer of his white teeth and his hazel eyes had left me tongue-tied.
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We drove in silence until we reached Husna's driveway. Then, Nabeel turned to me and whispered, "What do you think will happen?"

I refused to answer him. If I told him about the fears that were running through my head, he would leave. Then again, where would he go to?

As if he could read my mind, he leaned closer to me and repeated twice, "Don't worry. It will be okay. I promise." He was so close to me that the smell of his fresh breath filled the air around me. It seemed as if he was about to kiss me, but instead he ran his fingers down the side of my scarf and twirled the strands of hair that were loose. His eyelashes danced on my cheeks, but then, he suddenly pulled away and gave me a weak smile.

When we walked into the lounge, the scene before us was slightly different from what we expected. Before us was my parents and grandparents, Nabeel's parents and grandparents, Husna, Danyaal and Husna's parents, Layyah, Raihaan and their parents, and a few extended aunts and uncles that frequently visited. Trust Indian people to make even a secret discussion a public affair. They clearly didn't understand the laws of confidentiality. It is no wonder that there's always juicy gossip, if the aunties can't keep their own stories to themselves.

Every person at the table shot as daggers dripping with poison, except for Danyaal. He smiled at me warmly, but became stony faced when my parents pinched his thigh.

"Hmph, always new that Maariah was no good! Deserved to get like that if she only runs around after boys. Not like Husna," one of the aunties muttered loudly. I felt as if someone had jabbed a needle into my already sagging balloon. I tried my best not to cry.

Nabeel however, turned and glared at her. "If you don't know the full story, or need to know it, please don't make assumptions," he said to her quietly. Then he did something that made the entire room, including me, gasp. He grabbed hold of my hand, clung onto it tightly and led me to a seat. Instead of sitting far away, as if he were disgusted with me, like every expected, he sat close enough that our intertwined fingers did not have to break apart. I could see that Husna wanted to burst into tears and for some reason, it made me really, really happy.