"There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be..."
"This story is a gripping tale of desire , jealousy , and unforgettable characters as real as the emotions that bring them together"
This is a story about Khadija afrah and afaan...
The days after the wedding ceremony turned into a routine that I couldn't have foreseen. I woke up each morning to the quiet, unfamiliar surroundings of my new home. The spacious house, adorned with luxurious decor, felt empty, with the absence of familiar faces and voices.
My husband, Naseer, remained an enigma. I had only heard of him and had yet to meet him, and it seemed he had no intention of changing that. I often wondered about him, what he looked like, what he was like as a person, and if he had any interest in getting to know his new bride. These questions weighed heavily on my mind as I navigated the complex emotions that came with this arranged marriage.
Today, I woke up feeling excited. My cousin, Iman, was coming over. She's my favorite relative, and she wasn't around when I got married. She's a journalist who lives in London. I got up and started cleaning the house, filling it tularenwuta.
She finally came, looking stunning in her palazzo outfit.
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"My Deej!" she shouted and hugged me when I opened the door.
"My imaniii you look so good , what's the secret" I teased as she released me spinning me around with a coy smile, raising her brows.
"Deej, you're absolutely glowing, where's your husband, ko dai mun yi ajiya ne?" Iman inquired.
"You want to start yeah ? Yes, you have a baby coming. Is it haram? I have a husband, remember," I responded with a smile, rubbing my flat stomach. I pulled her into the house for a tour, ignoring her last question about my husband.
It's almost a month and all I've gotten from my so called husband are his foolish blue paper writings and text messages which I eventually stopped replying, I go shopping when I want, go the spa when I need it and It truly doesn't make sense; we're always playing a game of hide and seek.
Iman snapped her fingers at me. "Deej, are you sure you're okay? You just blanked," she asked, frowning. That's the problem with Imani she always seems to see right through me.
I took her hand and led her to the diner. "Come and eat," I invited. She sat down and stared at me.
"You know I'm not going to eat until you tell me what's up. Is he hurting you? Are you okay? Did anything happe......?"
"You poke noser, eat first and if there's any gist you'll hear it." I reassured her.
How was I going to start telling Iman that I've been in this house for the past month, and I've never set eyes on my husband?
"Adda Khadija, open this door, please," someone called from outside, knocking. I rushed to the door and opened it. Zuhra came in, smiling. Thank you so much, Zuhra, for saving me. "Sannu, madam, I can't remember the last time I set my eyes on you," she laughed. We went inside together.
"Zuhra, this is my cousin Iman. Iman, this is Naseer's cousin Zuhra." They exchanged pleasantries, and we started conversing.
"So.... I came to tell you that Uncle N's birthday is on Friday, and his sister Zara is coming back. We want to celebrate it big with everyone around."
