...

Khadijah.

The first time I met Amna, I wondered who that girl in black was. Years later, she remained exactly the same. When my best friend loves something, she embraces it with fervor; that girl has an unwavering affection for her hair styled in two perfect braids, among other things.

At that moment, her dark locks were in the process of being braided by herself. We were on a video call, both of us enjoying our time together.

Earlier after we had gotten back from Ammi and Abba's house, it didn't take long before the call for Maghrib prayers rang in the air. Tahir left soon after and didn't return until after Ishaa prayers. I retreated to my room, intentionally making it clear that I had no plans of joining him tonight.

The vices of hunger and pesky cravings gnawed at me, prompting me to serve myself a hearty dinner. I filled a bowl with a generous amount of dublan and greybah, ready to indulge while chatting with Amna in the living room.

"So, when is soon? I need soon to mean early in the morning tomorrow, please!" I pleaded, taking a satisfying bite of the greybah and groaning in delight at its comforting taste.

The sesame seeds sprinkled on top only amplified its deliciousness.

"You want your husband to label me as a nuisance? I promise I'll come over soon, very soon," she retorted playfully.

I rolled my eyes, all too aware of how vague and uncertain her definition of "soon" tended to be. That girl could declare "soon" and then wait months before following through on her promise.

"Not taking that for an answer. I want something specific!" I insisted.

"Next week then!" she shot back, rolling her eyes while admiring her reflection on the phone.

I groaned, fighting the overwhelming urge to scream in frustration. "Next week is too far! Ya Aisha said she's not coming until next month, and now you're telling me you won't come over at all! You guys don't love me anymore!"

Amna chuckled, savoring my melodrama; finding pleasure in my displeasure. "Don't be such a drama queen, Khadijah. I said next week, not never."

"Next week, never—sounds the same to me," I grumbled, making a determined pout with my lips.

In response, she dramatically threw her middle finger at me, and I couldn't help but laugh, despite the genuine disappointment I felt at her mention of a week's wait.

"You won't believe what I'm about to tell you," I teased.

"What do you mean? Tell me already!" She literally screamed into the camera, letting go of her hair as her full attention pivoted to the screen.

Being the petty little thing I was, I decided to draw it out a little longer. "Promise you're coming in two days first."

"Five, Khadijah!" she countered, exasperated.

"Two, Amna," I bargained, a mischievous smile forming on my face.

Amna groaned, obviously calculating her options before relenting. "Fine, four; that's the least I can agree to. Now tell me!"

I shrugged, deciding four was much better than a full week. "Your guy called me earlier this morning, he called me four frickin' times and even sent a text message."

A stream of incredulous words-you-don't-wanna-hear burst from Amna's lips, and I lowered the volume as Tahir walked in, looking far too comfortable in his jalabiya, a clear sign that he was preparing for bed.

"What did he want? Forward me the text!" she exclaimed, making me stifle a laugh.

"He wanted to wish me a happy married life," I said, trying to sound casual.

"But four calls? Seriously? That's way too much," she replied with a glare.

Tahir turned the TV on, seemingly unfazed by my conversation. I, on the other hand, was not used to his presence.

Shoo!

Returning my attention to Amna, I found her looking utterly pissed. Trust her to be more irritated than I was. "That's just how he is. Zayd normally calls me two to three times, and when I don't pick up, he just keeps calling."

"Such a nuisance, a retarded piece of crap," she exclaimed, her voice barely above a whisper. I silently thanked the Lord that her voice was so low that Tahir couldn't possibly hear, his attention fully captivated by the images on the TV screen.

"That, he is," I replied, amusement dancing in my eyes. "I feel sorry for—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" she interrupted, shaking her head vigorously. "Or Wallahi, Khadijah, when I come over, I'll punch you right in the hip you covet!"

Laughter bubbled up from my chest, vying to spill over. It overpowered me, and so, I let it stream out in abandon. Trust Amna to threaten to un-curve my barely curvaceous body. I zipped my lips and imaginatively tossed the key away, grinning from ear to ear until my cheeks ached from the effort.

"So tell me what's up with you?"

"Nothing much is going on, Khadijah. You know my life, it's boring epitomised," she replied, her voice drenched in mock despair.

"It's such a pity for a fine girl like you," I teased. "Wait! Why don't we binge-read together? I can plead with Ya Mukhtar to get me The Wallflower Series as another wedding gift. I could ask for two copies of each, and then we could share and devour them together!"

"Awesome idea! But where do you think he could actually get it?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with newfound excitement at the thought of reading books written by one of our favourite authors, Lisa Kleypas.

"We can search on Instagram, there are loads of online bookstores where we can find it," I suggested, my mind racing with possibilities.

Amna moved around her room, her excitement palpable. "I hope we can find them soon. But wait, don't you have things to do? Like, wifely duties or something?" she prodded, a teasing glint in her eye.

"You're insane!" I cried, glaring playfully at her through the screen.

"Where's your husband, anyway?" she pressed, curious.

Instead of responding verbally, I mischievously switched the camera angle, distinctly maneuvering it until Tahir was in her line of sight. Her eyes widened, growing to the size of golf balls, and before I could react, the call abruptly ended.

I couldn't help but giggle at her overreaction.

She sent me a message instantly.

Amna Kabir Bello: Can't believe your audacity! You didn't warn me to at least sound kind? I'm so done with you!!!

I sent her a response right away, my lips pursed in a barely suppressed smile.

Once done, I dropped the phone beside me on the couch and stretched my legs out, my feet playfully positioned to face Tahir. Before I could settle into a more comfortable position, he unexpectedly turned to look at me, his eyes briefly grazing over my henna-painted feet, then slowly traveling up my exposed legs.

I hastily dropped my feet to the floor, acutely aware of his gaze, and our eyes met.

"There's dinner waiting for you. You haven't eaten, right?" he asked, sounding utterly concerned.

"I've eaten. Thank you," I replied, fishing my phone out from the side of the couch, desperately avoiding his penetrating gaze.

Tahir nodded, but the expression on his face suggested he wasn't entirely satisfied with my answer. Thankfully, he let go of the matter, and a not-so comfortable silence settled between us.

"I think it's time I go to bed," I whispered, ensuring my voice was loud enough for him to hear as I stood up from the sofa, hugging my phone tightly to my chest.

"This early?" he asked, pinning me in place with a searching look. "You're taking the left side or the right side?"

"Of?" I asked, praying hard he wasn't talking about what I was thinking.

Tahir raised a brow at me. "The bed."

A pfft sound escaped my lips before I could stop it. Tahir surely knew I wasn't going anywhere near his room for years to come.

He fought hard to suppress a smile, but I caught the faint beginnings of one, which made a groan escape my lips. I shot him a hard glare, trying to mask my flustered feelings.

In response, Tahir raised both his hands in mock surrender. My heart shifted, then clattered to the floor when he rose, turned the TV off, and stepped closer to me. He didn't stop until he was barely a foot away, invading my personal space in a way that made me acutely aware of him.

"Let me walk you to your room," he suggested, like a true gentleman. However, I knew he was anything but that, so I tried not to let it affect me.

"It's okay," I squeaked, feeling a flutter of nerves. "I know the way; you don't need to bother. You're watching TV, and I shouldn't stop you from that. I'm sure you haven't eaten either. You need to take care of that too..." My rambling screeched to a halt when I noticed the intensity of his gaze lingering on me, rendering me breathless.

But I recovered instantly.

I gulped, turning to flee only to be stopped by his hands wrapping firmly around me.

"Why are you scared of me?" he asked in a low whisper, his breath tickling my left ear and sending shivers down my spine. Rendering the poor ear dead.

Swallowing hard, I shook my head, wishing he would simply let go of me. "I'm not scared, just really sleepy. Goodnight." When he made no move to release me, I lowered my voice, tinged with urgency. "You can let go of me now."

"Not until you tell me why you're scared," he whispered back, pulling me even closer.

I cleared my throat, wondering which planet Tahir had descended from. Have I ever said anything about him being a green snake? He was certainly the greenest to ever exist! I never thought he would be one of those men. But apparently, he was leading their ranks.

"I'm not scared," I insisted, trying to sound convincing.

"Promise?" he asked, his breath fanning my skin.

"I promise!" I faked a cheerful smile, ignoring the chaos that erupted in my belly. Yep, there was a loud clattering noise and some tickling sensations going on in there.

"Alright then, let's go," he said, his tone more assured.

In true gentleman fashion, he gently guided me toward the bedroom of my choice. Mentally, I did a happy dance when I realized we wouldn't be taking the route to his room.

However, at the door, when I turned to face him, a gigantic fake smile plastered across my face, Tahir began to lower his.

I froze.

He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear, then pressed a very soft kiss just below the sensitive organ and whispered, "Goodnight."

Before I could muster a response, he left, leaving me standing there in stunned silence, my heartbeat thrumming in my chest.

Then I recalled I'd left my bowl of greybah and dublan in the living room.

A point in Tahir's favour for disorienting a perfectly organised person like me.

Kidding!

...

Third Person's P O V.

Tahir welcomed Noor and Sa'eedah who brought breakfast the next morning into their home, dressed in a plain grey tee and a pair of black running pants.

He had just returned from his morning run when their call came. Thinking Khadijah was still peacefully asleep, he opened the door and helped them with the baskets they held, leading them straight to the dining area.

"Noor's barely awake, Ya Tahir. We'll be back to greet you guys properly in the next two hours," Sa'eedah declared cheerfully.

"Make that four, instead," Noor grumbled, dragging her feet lazily as she made her way out of the house. At the last moment, she turned around to wave at Tahir, who stared at their retreating figures in mild surprise.

Locking the door behind them, Tahir made his way to his bedroom, yanking his shirt off as he rounded the corner in a rush to freshen up.

A shriek suddenly echoed from behind him, undoubtedly from Khadijah, his panicky bride.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, hastily tugging his shirt back on as he turned to face her, biting his lips to refrain from chuckling. "Good morning. There's breakfast in the dining room."

Khadijah nodded, greeting him respectfully as she took the turn leading to the dining room. "I woke up hungry. See ya later!" she called over her shoulder.

And just like that, Tahir realized he had been dismissed with a wave of her hand. Shaking his head at her sassy attitude, he strode to his room with quick strides, eager for a much-needed bath.

...

When Khadijah finally emerged from her bedroom a couple of hours later, it was to the lively sound of Noor's voice talking to Tahir.

"Ya Tahir! Adda Shukhra is back," the talkative girl exclaimed, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush. "She said to send her regards to you and Adda Khadijah before she comes. Right now, she can't move a finger, let alone a leg, and she'll come later on. Oh, and by the way, all of them are coming later—Adda Hairi, the twins and Sa'eedah!" Her words spilled from her lips without a stumble, mistake, or hesitation, leaving little room for anyone else to speak.

"Noor, where should I start from now?" Tahir asked, raising his head to look at Khadijah, who had just joined them.

Khadijah said her salaam, and they responded cordially before she took a seat, parting her arms for Noor to slip in.

"Adda Khadijah, good morning! I came here on Ya Tahir's request. He wants someone to keep you company," Noor babbled, wrapping her arms around Khadijah for a casual embrace.

To make things clearer, Tahir informed her, "I'm going out."

Khadijah simply nodded her head in acknowledgment, unsure what to do or say in the situation.

Tahir quietly slipped out of the room, retreating to his own, and hastily changed into a comfortable black kaftan. Picking up his phone from the bedside table, Tahir dialed Mukhtar's contact, clarifying the location of their meet-up.

They decided to convene at a quaint café where they regularly enjoyed leisurely afternoons over tea.

Once the call ended, he made his way out of the room toward the living room, where Khadijah sat with Noor, both engrossed in conversation.

Their eyes met, and Khadijah looked away first. Tahir approached them, fist bumping Noor before regarding his wife. With a respectful nod, he bade her goodbye and left, the door clicking softly behind him as he stepped out.

...

Tahir parked his car beside Mukhtar's Dodge. With one hand casually tucked into his pocket, he stepped out and headed straight to the table where his friend was seated, his attention fully riveted on his phone.

"What's got you so engrossed?" Tahir asked, leaning in to pretend to peek at Mukhtar's phone. However, before Tahir could catch a glimpse of whatever had captured his friend's focus, Mukhtar quickly locked the screen and dropped the phone on the table, face-down. "Now I'm curious," Tahir pressed, raising an eyebrow.

They shook hands warmly, and Tahir settled into the chair opposite Mukhtar, spreading his arms comfortably around the backrest while his gaze swept across their surroundings.

"Black tea is on its way," Mukhtar said, his gaze fixed intently on his friend. "Did Khadijah cry today too?" he asked, concern threading through his voice and surprising Tahir, whose mind had momentarily drifted to the very person in question.

With a slight sweep of his tongue across his lower lip, Tahir faced Mukhtar. "She did not, why?"

Mukhtar shrugged, flexing the muscles in his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "Was just wondering if she's adapting or not. She's been on my mind since I heard her crying over the phone."

"She lost it yesterday; cried for quite a long time," Tahir asserted, hoping to reassure his friend. "But she's okay now, I promise."

A weary look crossed Mukhtar's face, and after blowing air from his mouth, he turned away as the wait staff ambled forward with their tea.

Waiting patiently until they were done setting things up, Mukhtar finally spoke, seriousness lacing his tone. "Try your best not to hurt Khadijah, Tahir. She's a very emotional person."

Tahir nodded, his mind wandering to the implications of Mukhtar's words.

"How is she doing?" Mukhtar inquired, his brows furrowing.

"Why are you acting as if I kidnapped your sister? Khadijah is fine, thank you. What else?" Tahir shot back playfully, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You'll let me know what else when Noor, Sa'eedah, or the twins get married," Mukhtar grunted, taking a sip of his tea while appraising Tahir warily.

Amused, Tahir burst out laughing.

Several minutes passed as the two engaged in a lively discussion about football and their respective jobs.

"Mukhtar, there's something I want to ask you," Tahir began, leaning slightly forward.

"Shoot," Mukhtar agreed, pushing his own cup away with a grunt.

"Before our marriage, you told me Khadijah did something to piss Baba off. Does it have anything to do with a guy or something?"

Mukhtar released a deep breath, massaging his forehead before meeting Tahir's gaze directly.

"Yes, it does. You know Baba doesn't agree with anything that has to do with dating. Khadijah, being the little terror she is, had a boyfriend she loved, but that's all in the past now."

"Zayd? That's him?" Tahir muttered, his eyebrows knitting together in question as he took a long gulp of his tea.

Mukhtar's brow raised in surprise. "How do you know about Zayd? Did she mention him to you?"

Tahir shrugged nonchalantly. "I overheard her talking about him. She said he called her and even texted her after our wedding."

"Get rid of the clown," Mukhtar demanded, shaking his head as thoughts of what he could do to the ex boyfriend filled his mind. "Cut any form of communication between them; change her SIM card if that needs to be done. He's an idiot," Mukhtar added after several minutes of silence, shaking his head at the thought of Zayd.

"She'll flip," Tahir replied absentmindedly, but on the other hand, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something had to be done.

"Wait..." Mukhtar suddenly pushed forward, his expression serious. "Are you scared of Khadijah's reaction? She'll throw a tantrum, I'm sure of that. But I don't need to repeat this to you a third time; you better get rid of him and her very useless male friends," he tsked lightly, admonishing Tahir with a playful yet serious undertone.

"Trust me, I will." Tahir agreed, keeping aside his mug for a moment, wondering if Khadijah's penchant for drama would let her comply with his wish to change her SIM card, or at the very least, get a new one.

His thoughts ran with how he was supposed to handle the situation, options flooding his mind, each one more absurd than the last. He could already vividly picture her reaction; the inevitable scenes she would undoubtedly throw in response.

Tahir firmly believed he could follow through with Mukhtar's advice. His mind played with the idea of getting her another SIM card. However, convincing her to accept it would be an entirely different challenge altogether, and Tahir knew exactly that.

Not long after, Tahir and Mukhtar offered their prayers. Once done, Mukhtar turned to Tahir with a faux playful expression on his face.

"Go away, you're not allowed to be leaving my sister all alone."

Tahir shook his head, chuckling at Mukhtar's overprotectiveness. "You might as well move into our home," he teased, pushing back his chair to make the move to leave.

Mukhtar shook his head, a smirk gracing his lips. "I love my sister so much. But listen, don't let her get the upper hand in this particular situation, Tahir. Otherwise, you'll be doomed for life. Like myself, I know you cannot bear to live like that," he warned, his words light yet laced with truth.

With a determined nod, Tahir decided to give it a shot. He roamed through the streets, finally deciding to get her a new phone to lessen the blow and a new SIM card to accompany it.

Upon arriving home, he headed straight to his side of the house, the familiar sound of his key turning in the lock echoing in the quiet hallway, wondering what version of Khadijah would be in play tonight.

...
AN

Remember, in the year 2016/2017, it was quite normal for brides to change their SIM cards after their wedding. So you shouldn't find the whole thing odd or extreme.

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NanaAmiinah🤍