Him & His Muslimah

47

Zaib/Zoya

Zaib prayed his sunset prayer when unintentionally his eyes swayed to his wife who sat on the edge of the bed, playing candy crush on his phone for the second hour today. He eyed her as she competitively tapped on the widescreen of the iPhone and bit into her lip, anxiously.

Every day, returning from university, she'd sit for three hours in their study, immersed in highlighting things on her textbook while he would sit on the opposite desk, admiring her, barely getting any work done himself.

Then he'd pull her out of her books, to the kitchen where he'd make her something delicious to eat— well, mostly it was him scrounging for her to make some food since he had finally admitted defeat and called Zoya the best cook. After they'd have a romanticized lunch, she'd spend an hour playing candy crush while Zaib left for any afternoon appointments.

As soon as his meetings were over, he'd immediately rush back home, avoiding any after parties with his colleagues, to spend more time with Zoya. She would lovingly welcome him and they'd spend the rest of the night talking about their day.

He didn't realize how long he had been staring at her as he sat immobile on the prayer rug. His heart was so full of her that every time his eyes met her, he'd forget his consciousness.

"Zaib?" She stepped down from the bed curiously as she neared him. He blinked rapidly as his trance broke and then smiled as she sat beside him and dropped her head on his lap, laying on the marble floor.

She gazed up at him with her wide blue eyes. "Are you thinking of me?" She wondered, quirking an eyebrow. He nodded without hesitation, "Always," he confirmed. Her eyes sparkled up and she giggled into her palm.

"Did you win the level?" He asked, questioning her perky behaviour. She nodded with triumph, a satisfied smile on her mouth. Zaib chuckled, realizing he knew a bit too much about his wife's mood swings. Zoya sat up giddily.

"You're done, now let's go! We'll be late to mama's dinner!" She complained, even though they were an hour away from the designated time. Zaib wanted to object but seeing her so impatient, he shut himself up, nodding and dashing to the washroom.

He took a quick shower and wore the lemon-coloured collar shirt along with high waisted baggy jeans and a denim jacket, which Zoya had matched with her sunflower top. He stepped out with the towel in his hand as Zoya was also prepped with her top, mom jeans and a cardigan. He surveyed her as she stood tall against the mirror, wrapping her hijab.

He walked closer and closely hugged her waist, watching her smile pop up on the mirror. "You matched us well," he told her and she nodded, her eyes bright. "When I was a teenager, I thought of buying similar clothes for me and my husband. We'd get to show them off and look cute," she confessed.

Zaib's hold tightened as he realized, he was the lucky man. It was him who she wanted to match with and him who could see her all ecstatic for an outfit. "I'll wear everything you like," he warmly kissed her cheek and she bashfully pulled away, grabbing his hand and luring him out to the main door.

They settled in the car and drove away towards Zoya's parents house. Midway, Zaib received a call from an office junior who notified him about an urgent meeting regarding a mishandled project. Zaib wanted to ask for an alternative member to attend the meeting on his behalf but he realized Ehsan had taken a few weeks off, and nobody was capable of representing his position.

He sighed, ending the call and looked at Zoya nervously. "Urgent meeting? It's okay. I'll go in alone. You can come a little late Zaib," she placated, understandingly.

Zaib nodded back apologetically.

"Thirty minutes. Not a second more," he assured her and she giggled, nodding.