What is love?

19. Scary

"You've got a proposal. Someone has asked me for your hand in marriage."

Those words kept echoing in my mind as my mouth turned as dry as paper. I stared at Ahmed, wide-eyed, wondering if what he was saying was just a figment of my imagination.

Unable to say anything, my mouth stayed open but formed no words.

"Warda?" Ahmed called.

After what seemed like forever, I murmured an almost inaudible response.

"So what's your say on this?" He asked me.

What was my say on this?

I was expecting the worst when he told me he wanted to talk to me. But I certainly wasn't expecting this.

Who even knew me enough to actually send me a proposal?

I must've said that out loud because Ahmed actually replied, "Don't think people don't know you just because you don't socialise much."

I raised my eyebrows at him, wondering how he could be asking me on what my say was on this when he didn't even tell me the guy's name or who the guy was.

"Ahmed, who sent me a proposal? You're asking me what my say is on this but you haven't even told me who this person is," I told him.

Ahmed gave me a weird look.

"Are you serious? I told you the guy's name, his profession and all the minor but necessary details. Weren't you paying attention?" Ahmed asked, bewildered.

"I had spaced out because I was, and still am, unable to digest that someone wants my hand in marriage," I replied.

"Alright well, I'll repeat myself. Pay attention this time," he told me with a sigh.

I nodded, allowing him to proceed.

"The boy's name is Ali. He's a doctor, just like you -," Ahmed began to say.

"I'm not yet a doctor, until the end of this semester, Ahmed," I interrupted with a frown.

Ahmed sighed impatiently.

"Let me finish, will you? Anyway, as I was saying before you interrupted me, Ali is a doctor, specialised in orthopaedics. He is twenty nine, so basically five years older than you. Not a bad age gap if you ask me.

His family is a practicing Muslim family, and so is he. They're well-off. Not like filthy rich but what with his job and all, they are doing pretty well financially. He's a good guy, very decent, also very good looking."

I furrowed my eyebrows at the name. It sounded very familiar. Where had I heard it?

Ali, Ali, Ali. Dr. Ali. Dr. Ali Faisal? The orthopaedic? The Dr. Ali Faisal? And he wanted to marry me?

"Ahmed? Is this Ali by any chance Dr. Ali Faisal?" I asked, dreading his reply.

"Yes. How do you know him?" Ahmed asked me.

"I should be asking you how you happen to know him, and all these details about him, Ahmed! He is one of the best doctors in the hospital where I did my attachment last year. I worked under him for a day actually!" I explained.

"So that's how he knows you. One would think he should've mentioned this to me when asking me for your hand in marriage," Ahmed said, thoughtfully.

I scrunched my nose at that idea.

"Yeah well, no, I really can't imagine a guy will come and tell you that your sister worked under him for a day and that was sufficient enough to interest him in her for marriage," I told Ahmed.