For the past five days, the only thing Jadwa had been doing was getting pampered. Scrubs, polishes, waxes, masks and soaks in different oils and milks, twice a day, had become her routine. While Jadwa loved self-care, this felt excessive. She had just finished the longest bath of her life, rinsing with the perfumed water that left her skin silky smooth and polished. Everywhere she turned, the faint scent of her beautiful smell moved with her.

As she applied her kulaccam, a concentrated perfume moisturizer, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. Was this really happening? She glanced in the mirror, admiring her glowing skin, the days went by fast with just Ammi making purchases of kitchen wares and house supplies, and asking for her choices, all while Imran called every day with brief check-ins.

The house was quiet, the air thick with the scent of bakhoor the two women Ammi had brought from Maiduguri steamed her in and perfumed water Jadwa had used to bathe. The fragrance clung to her skin as she draped herself in a robe and walked to Ammi's room. Ammi bustled around, a low murmur of prayer beads clicking against each other the only sound accompanying her movements. It was a couple of hours before time for Friday prayers, the time he was coming.

Jadwa sat on the chair, a knot of nerves tightening in her stomach. She wanted nothing extravagant for her hair, just a simple, very low ponytail that showcased the cascade of straightened curls that reached her waist. The stylist, a woman with gentle hands, expertly maneuvered the straightener, tendrils of steam rising from Jadwa's hair like a fragrant mist.

The two women who pampered her kept her busy, feeding her different concoctions and chattering away. Now, she remained in her robe, the silk soothing against her skin as she walked to Ammi's room.

Ammi was surrounded by colorful fabrics, the air thick with anticipation. "He'll be here after Friday prayers," she announced, a wide smile gracing her lips. Jadwa nodded, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She settled into the chair as the makeup artist began her work. The brushstrokes were light and comforting, a brown kohl pencil emphasizing the almond shape of Jadwa's eyes. A glossy, a rosy-colored lip balm completed the natural look.

After an hour of quiet and comforting ministrations, Jadwa was set. Ammi and her sisters entered, a dressed in vibrant colors of laffaya. Ammi wore a beautiful orange Laffaya, while Ameerah, Hanan, and Zara sported floral lace gowns with their scarves tied into elegant turbans.

"Wowwwwwwww," they all chorused, including Ammi, making the makeup artist, hairstylist, and Jadwa giggle.

"She's so stunning," the makeup artist complimented, her voice filled with genuine awe. Jadwa smiled gratefully, a warmth blooming in her chest.

"You look so beautiful, Jadu," Hanan gasped, her eyes wide with admiration.

"You look like a freaking bride," Zarah squealed, her voice laced with excitement. Everyone burst into laughter, the tension momentarily dissolving.

"Because I am a bride," Jadwa rolled her eyes, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Yet, a silent part of her acknowledged the truth in Zarah's words. He was really going to come see her today.

He hadn't said anything about future plans or their next steps, and she chose to keep it that way, the uncertainty a gnawing weight in her gut. But for Ammi's sake, she pushed down her anxieties and embraced the role she was expected to play.

"MashaAllah, my baby," Ammi moved forward, her eyes glistening with happy tears. She cupped Jadwa's face, her touch a familiar source of comfort.

"The stylist is already here," Hannan said, her voice breaking the emotional moment. "Just get some pictures before you dress up."

Jadwa nodded, a wave of nervousness washing over her. She snapped many pictures. The photographer's encouraging words did little to ease the knot in her stomach.

Then, the stylist arrived, She draped a champagne-colored laffaya over Jadwa's body. The fabric, handmade and passed down from her mother, shimmered under the natural light. It was more bridal than Jadwa expected, the subtle way it clung to her curves highlighting her figure. When the stylist finally draped the fabric on her head, Jadwa gasped. It was breathtaking.

As Ammi sprayed her with perfume and adorned her with heavy yet elegant gold necklace, earrings, bangles, heavy anklets, rings, a watch, and other accessories, Jadwa felt a strange mix of apprehension and anticipation.

"Where is the ring he got you?" Ammi asked, holding Jadwa's left hand and taking out the ring on her ring finger. Jadwa described its location without argument, a silent acknowledgment of the changing dynamics between them. The ring was brought back in minutes, a gleaming gold band holding the weight of the diamond. Ammi slipped it onto Jadwa's finger, and Jadwa couldn't help but admire its delicate beauty against her glowing skin.

The celebrity photographer, a man Jadwa recognized from glossy magazines, took numerous pictures. Jadwa felt a touch self-conscious under the bright lights, her smile strained at times. Zarah and Hannan, however, reveled in the attention, their vibrant personality shining through as they directed poses and joked with the photographer.

Lost in the midst of activity, Jadwa almost missed Ya Ahmad's arrival. He slipped into the room unnoticed, his usual boisterous presence subdued. He offered a side hug and a gentle tap on her head, a gesture that spoke volumes of their past closeness.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Although I have never witnessed such a quiet and low-key wedding."

Jadwa chuckled, a nervous sound that escaped her lips. "It's not a wedding, it's just a meeting that Ammi is glorifying so much like a wedding," she sighed. Internally, she wrestled with the conflicting emotions churning within her.

"Well, you look pretty, sister," Ya Ahmad said, his voice softening. "He's already here, so wrap it up here and get down before he's done with Baba."

Jadwa's breath hitched. Her stomach lurched, a sickening sensation that sent a wave of dizziness through her. She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. The nerves she had been suppressing all week came crashing down on her with full force.

With a shaky voice, she thanked the photographer and allowed Hanan and Zara to help with the last touches. Many of Ammi's sisters and friends were present, along with a few family friends and Zara and Hanan's Friends. Most of Jadwa's friends were in Jordan, the short notice making it impossible for them to attend. Ammi, however, was already planning a larger wedding celebration, one that Jadwa knew would involve extensive apologies for not including them in this initial step.

Jadwa sat down, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She gulped down cold water, her sweaty palms a telltale sign of her growing anxiety. It felt so real now, the marriage, the commitment, everything she had tried to push to the back of her mind. Here, in this moment, the weight of it all settled upon her.

She had accepted it before, acknowledged the title of "married woman" with a detached sense of resignation. But seeing him, knowing he was just downstairs, made it all too real. A million thoughts swirled in her head, a chaotic storm of emotions she couldn't quite grasp.

The only solace she found was in silent prayer, her lips moving silently as she pleaded Allah for strength and clarity. Her sisters returned, their faces etched with a mixture of excitement and concern.

"It's time to go down," Ameerah announced, a gentle hand on Jadwa's arm.

Jadwa took another deep breath, stealing a glance at her reflection in the mirror. "I am so nervous," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

"It's natural, Jadu. Just take your mind off it by thinking of something else, okay?" Ameerah soothed, covering her face with the veil before guiding her downstairs.

Hanan and Zara flanked her on either side, their light chatter and playful jabs offering a temporary distraction. They reached a spacious living room on the second floor, a more intimate setting compared to the grand living room below. They were ushered to a seating area, and the waiting game began.

It felt like an eternity before the first sounds of approaching voices reached them. There were men's voices, the murmur of greetings, and the unmistakable lilt of her sisters' and friends' laughter. Jadwa felt a prickle of sweat gather on her back, her fingers twisting the fabric of her lap nervously.

As the voices grew closer, Ameerah pulled the veil down further, obscuring Jadwa's vision. The sound of a familiar deep voice, his greeting punctuated by the chorus of "Salaams," sent a jolt through her. It was a beautiful voice, one she had always found strangely attractive.

The room erupted in a flurry of excited chatter and well wishes. A man, his voice booming with authority, began reciting a prayer. Jadwa sat perfectly still, her fingers digging into her palms as she strained to hear over the cacophony. The scent of his cologne and oud, a familiar blend that always quickened her pulse, filled the air. The room quieted as he drew closer.

He stood before her for a moment, the silence thick with anticipation. Jadwa lifted her trembling hands and placed them on her lap, her head bowed low. A small smile played on Imran's lips. He leaned in slightly, whispering a short prayer before his hands gently reached out to lift the veil.

A chorus of compliments erupted, praising Jadwa's beauty. But her mind was elsewhere, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor. Imran stared at her for a beat longer, the air thick with unspoken emotions. He, too, seemed overwhelmed by the sudden reality of their situation.

Finally, he used his hands to gently lift her face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through her. Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. He noticed her nervousness, and a reassuring smile softened his features.

Before Jadwa could react, Imran surprised her. He reached out, his strong arms encircling her shoulders, and pulled her up into a hug. Jadwa's heart hammered against her ribs, a startled silent gasp almost escaped her lips. She had hugged many people in her life, classmates and friends, but this felt different. The unexpected closeness sent a jolt through her, a mix of nervousness and something else, something she couldn't quite define.

He held her for a moment, his embrace a silent reassurance. When he pulled away, his eyes held hers. He took both her hands in his, his gaze roaming over her from head to toe. Jadwa self-consciously returned his scrutiny, but hers was more subtle, a quick flicker of her eyes that took in his handsome features. He was dressed impeccably in a white Babban Riga, the embroidery on the fabric catching her eye.

Despite the chaos swirling around them, a sense of calm settled over Jadwa as their eyes met. He released one of her hands, using it to gently usher her back down onto the couch. He settled beside her, a comfortable silence settling between them.

The photographer continued snapping pictures, his voice directing them into different poses. Imran, ever so subtly, scooted closer, wrapping his arm around hers. Jadwa felt a blush creep up her neck, but she forced a smile for the camera. Despite her initial awkwardness, his touch felt strangely comforting.

"Lean on him a bit," the photographer instructed. Jadwa shifted self-consciously, unsure of how much was appropriate. Imran, sensing her hesitation, used his other hand to gently pull her closer, his touch firm yet gentle. Jadwa found herself leaning into him, her head resting on his arm. The realization of how small she was compared to him struck her for the first time.

She glanced down at their intertwined hands. The urge to pull away, to hide the telltale tremor in her fingers, was strong. But the promise she made to her father, the weight of their expectations, held her back. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile, trying to project an image of contentment.

"Perfect! So beautiful!" the photographer exclaimed, snapping away. Moments later, Ammi's sister, Hajje Amne, arrived, ushering everyone downstairs for a beautifully laid out high tea and lunch. Imran leaned towards Jadwa, his voice a low murmur.

"You look so beautiful," he said, sending another wave of heat through her. Jadwa looked up briefly, then quickly averted her gaze due to their close proximity.

"Thank you," she stammered, her voice betraying her nerves. She squeezed her eyes shut, mortified by the shakiness in her tone. Imran chuckled softly.

"Are we back to being shy again?" he teased, his thumb gently stroking her trembling fingers.
Jadwa could only nod negatively.

She remained silent, her head resting against his arm. The room felt too small, the air too thick. Finally, the last person left, and the door shut with a soft click.

"So, how are you?" he asked, his voice still gentle.

"Alhamdulillah, I am doing good," she replied, her voice regaining some of its strength. She stole a glance at him, gauging his reaction as she moved away from his hold and fixed her veil. His expression remained unreadable, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes.

"You are sure? You look nervous," he observed, his voice a low rumble.

Jadwa bit her lip, torn between honesty and the role she was expected to play. "The crowd made me nervous," she finally settled on, a half-truth that wouldn't cause any unnecessary waves. "How about you? Are you doing well?"

"I am great," he replied with a curt nod. "Kinyi kyau," he added, a playful glint in his eyes. "Sosai," he followed up with a smirk.

"Na gode," a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Kaima kayi Kyau sosai" she said in a small soft voice looking at him and he raised his brows but nodded pleasantly.

"I didn't see Anaya," she offered, trying to fill the comfortable silence that had settled between them again. It was a safe topic, a neutral conversation starter.

"Really? She was here, just glued to your sisters," he replied. "Your eyes were on the floor half of the time. How would you see her?" he raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his voice.

Jadwa's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Do you want me to be called a shameless girl?" she countered, a hint of defiance creeping into her tone.

"Amarya bata laifi," he shrugged playfully. "So you should have shined your eyes really well to see everything and everyone."

Jadwa rolled her eyes, a genuine laugh escaping her lips. The nervousness that had gripped her earlier had begun to ease "You are such an old man!"

"Woman, watch what you say," he countered, a playful glint in his eyes. "You are married to that old man," he added, mock seriousness lacing his voice.

Jadwa couldn't help but laugh again, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. Despite the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced, a sense of ease settled over her as their playful banter continued before a silence settled between them.

"There are so many things we should talk about Jadwa" he said in a serious tone now making her head move up to look at him from fiddling her fingers.

"Okay" she said

"I don't know if you want to have any events, but if you do I'm sure we can figure how to go about it" he said.

"Of course, I don't want any events to be honest" she said.

Jadwa had always been one to plan her wedding since she was young, but now nothing seemed interesting and the last thing she wanted is to have events but as quickly as she said it she regretted it.

"So, you can come home before Eid?" Imran asked. Each word echoed in the tense silence, sharpening the pang of anxiety that twisted in her gut.
Tears welled in Jadwa's eyes, glistening like tiny diamonds threatening to spill over onto her flushed cheeks. Her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips, overwhelmed by the sudden weight of reality settling on her shoulders.

Jadwa took a few seconds to process it. The word "home" sent a fresh wave of panic through her. It meant his house, a life she wasn't prepared for, and Eid was a mere two weeks away. She desperately wanted to say no, to ask for more time, but that was her reality now. A silent plea casted it's shadow in her glistening eyes.

Jadwa sniffed, her tears threatened to pour down and she tried to look away so he couldn't see but Imran saw it all, he knew there was no love for him in her heart, he heard how hard the marriage news was on her but seeing it now clearly in front of him hit him in a way he didn't see coming, it almost hurt, he took a deep breath looking at her damn near completely breaking down like she's been holding it all in and looked away he couldn't help but accept that the day that was the most blessed and most special to him was on the other end was the worst day for his woman.
It tasted bitter for him but he had already welcomed the reality and decided, until she feels what he feels for her, his efforts will suffice for them.

"But we need to furnish..." she tried to speak, but her voice betrayed her, trembling violently.

"Everything is ready," he pressed, his voice firm but laced with understanding.

"Come here," he cleared his throat, his voice husky with emotion. Jadwa remained frozen, wiping at her tears with trembling fingers.

"Jadwa, come here," he repeated, his voice softer this time. She took a shaky breath, wiping her tears again before complying. He pulled her close, the warmth of his embrace a stark contrast to the coldness of her fear.

"I'm just overwhelmed. I don't mean I don't want this—" she tried to explain, but he cut her off with a gentle touch.

"I am sorry," he breathed "I am sorry for how everything happened."

Jadwa couldn't speak. Disbelief choked her, many emotions swirling within her.

"I know this wasn't what you wanted, Jadwa," he started. "The last thing I want is for us to not be honest with each other. I am incredibly happy about this marriage, but I don't want you to put on a face just to please me. It will only do more harm than good to both of us," he said. A lone tear escaped her eye, and he carefully wiped it with his thumb.

This wasn't how she imagined this conversation unfolding. How did he know? Did he talk to Ahmad, or was he just that observant? A tiny spark of appreciation, ignited in her heart for his understanding.

"I'm sorry, I just-" she mouthed, shamefaced.

"I don't need an explanation, Jadwa. Next time I say we should discuss something, be honest, okay?" he cut her off, and she nodded.

"What did we agree on that day?" he asked, making Jadwa furrow her brow in confusion.

"Which day?"

"In the car," he clarified.

"Oh... uhmmm," she stopped to think hard. "That I wanted to take it slow?" she responded, unsure if she was correct.

"Exactly. Let's do just that. If you are scared to move in with me right now, we can postpone it," he said upfront, his voice laced with a surprising ease, as if these awkward conversations were a normal part of his life.

Jadwa looked at him, then quickly looked away, the weight of her parents' expectations pressing down on her. She swallowed the words she wanted to speak, the rebellion her father warned her against simmering just beneath the surface.

"I mean it. Tell me, what do you want?" he repeated, his voice firm but gentle.

"I can't decide. Whatever you say," she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper.

"I am asking you what you want, and no one will question you for any decision I make about this. I promise."

Jadwa let his words sink in then surprised herself with a toothy smile, a little hope peeking through the cracks of her fear. Her eyes, though still watery, held a glimmer of gratitude. She had been praying for this. "Really?"

"Really," he chuckled, a hint of disbelief laced in his amusement. Her mood switches were giving him whiplash, but he found it endearing nonetheless. "Of course, if it makes you happy."

"Thank you," she murmured, the weight on her chest lifting slightly.

"So, how much time do you need?" he asked.

She held up five fingers, then quickly retracted one, settling on four with a determined pout. Imran raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Four weeks?" he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Jadwa widened her eyes, scandalized. "Four months!" she blurted out, the initial relief replaced by a surge of panic.

He burst out laughing, the rich sound warming the tense air. "Taking it slow doesn't mean I don't want my woman at all," he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Every time he spoke like that, so comfortably and smoothly, a flutter of something unfamiliar danced in Jadwa's stomach. It was a feeling she couldn't quite place, but she didn't try to acknowledge it.

"Let's make it a month after Eid," he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He yearned to have her by his side right now, but he understood her apprehension. Left to him, he would've whisked her away the moment the moment this marriage was announced.

"Okay," she nodded, a hint of relief coloring her voice. Six weeks seemed far more manageable than the few days she'd initially envisioned.

A comfortable silence settled between them as Jadwa checked her phone. She glanced at the camera app, then jumped slightly as Hanan burst into the room, a wide smile plastered across her face.

"Amarya, Ango, enough of the love l!" Hanan chirped. "You both need to come downstairs. The elders are waiting for you for pictures, and you should also come say hi to a few people outside."

"Is my makeup looking bad?" Jadwa asked, worry crossing her features because of the tears she shed.

Hanan leaned closer, scrutinizing her face. "Not at all. It's still perfect," she reassured her. "But you could touch it up if you want."

"I want to touch up my makeup," Jadwa turned to Muhammad Imran, her voice barely a whisper.

He nodded gently. "Go ahead."

Jadwa stood up, the laffaya clinging to her frame. As she reached for her makeup bag, Imran noticed her struggle. He rose and met her in front of the full-length mirror.

"Do you need help?" he offered, his voice warm.

"Mmmm, I don't want it to get on this," she mumbled, trying and failing to maneuver the laffaya away from her face.

Imran surprised both of them by gently lowering the laffaya from her head, letting it drape down onto her shoulders. Jadwa froze, holding her breath as her eyes look up at him his eyes lingered on her hair, cascading down her back in a wave of red silk.

As she reapplied her lip gloss, she caught him staring again. His Adam's apple bobbed rapidly before he swallowed hard. The laffaya, now draped loosely around her, accentuated her curves in a way that made his breath hitch. The material clung to her like a second skin, and the low neckline of the dress beneath peeked through, hinting at the glowing skin beneath. The way she smelled, a mix of her perfume and something uniquely hers, captivated him. He ached to hold her close, to bury his face in her hair.

"Should we start counting a month from today?" he asked, his voice husky.

Jadwa turned to face him fully, her arms crossed defensively across her chest. He reached out, his fingers gently capturing her left hand once more, his gaze drawn to the ring he'd gifted her.

"Ya Imran," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "you should be a man of your words."

She had his full attention now, his gaze flitting from her lips to her eyes and back again. Her long eyelashes fluttered dramatically as she unleashed her ultimate puppy eyes on him.

"Baby, I am a man of my words," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. He brought her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it.

Jadwa blushed furiously, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. This was too much. What was this man?

"You can't change your words," she mumbled through the mirror, a playful challenge in her voice.

He smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Whatever you say beautiful." The endearment slipped out before he could stop it and a blush crept up Jadwa's neck.

She dropped her makeup bag with a clatter, momentarily startled by his unexpected words and the effect they had on her. Quickly, she fumbled to fix her laffaya back into place, and Imran watched her patiently.

"We can go," she announced, her voice regaining a semblance of composure.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Jadwa found herself swept up in a photo sessions with Ammi, Baba, Anaya, her sisters, Imran's family, and seemingly everyone else who came to the house.

The backyard of the mansion had been transformed into a breathtaking oasis. Thousands of fresh flowers, in a riot of colors and textures, filled the space. Ammi had ensured that everything looked extravagant, yet tasteful, with cascading string lights adding a touch of magic to the scene.

As Jadwa walked into the transformed space with Muhammad Imran, she felt like she'd stepped into a floral dream.

"That's Sadiq, my younger brother, and his wife Fatima," Imran said, guiding her towards a couple standing near a vibrantly colored flower arch.

Jadwa greeted them warmly. She recognized Sadiq from the Eid barbecue Ahmad hosted , but hadn't known he was married. Fatima, a beautiful woman with warm brown skin and an accent that hinted at a background far from Nigeria, embraced Jadwa tightly.

"Congratulations! What a lucky man our brother is," Fatima exclaimed, her voice rich with warmth. "You are so beautiful," she added, squeezing Jadwa's hand gently.

Jadwa blushed, momentarily speechless. She couldn't quite place Fatima's ethnicity, but the melodic lilt in her voice was captivating. She offered a polite smile before turning to greet Sadiq.

"Congratulations, Jadwa. We can't wait to welcome you to the family," Sadiq said, his smile genuine.

"Thank you," Jadwa responded, her heart swelling with a warmth that surprised her. Before they could delve deeper into conversation, Anaya came skipping towards them, Zara trailing close behind.

Anaya launched herself into Jadwa, wrapping her in a hug so tight it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

"Jadu! I am so, so happy! Alhamdulillah! Thank you for stealing my brother's heart and saving him from being single forever," Anaya declared dramatically, eliciting a chorus of laughter from those gathered around.

"You're welcome," Jadwa mumbled playfully, waving a hand dismissively.

Despite the whirlwind of activity and unfamiliar faces, Jadwa found herself drawn to Anaya's infectious enthusiasm. They had been texting regularly since Jadwa had gotten her phone back, and Anaya's genuine warmth had begun to chip away at the walls Jadwa had built around her heart when it came to friends.

Suddenly, a tall woman with a confident stride approached them, accompanied by a muscular man with a little resemblance to Imran and a young boy, maybe eight years old, clinging to his hand.

"This is my sister, Rahma," Imran introduced, Jadwa offered Rahma a warm smile and a hug. Rahma, clad in a stylish caftan that shimmered with emerald embroidery, returned the gesture with equal warmth. They exchanged pleasantries briefly.

"Uncle, Uncle? Daddy said you have a wife now! Is it true?" the young boy piped up, his wide eyes fixed on Jadwa with an intensity that made her smile.

Imran chuckled, a hint of exasperation coloring his amusement. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Yes, this is my wife, Khalifa," he said, pointing at Jadwa. The boy, his name apparently Khalifa, waved at her shyly. Jadwa waved back, her heart melting at his innocent curiosity.

"Daddy said you were never getting married, Uncle Moh! How do you have a wife?" Khalifa continued, his brow furrowed in confusion as he looked up at his father.

The men, including Imran, burst out laughing. Jadwa let out a soft giggle, the tension from earlier easing slightly.

"Khalifa, I was wrong this time," Ibrahim, the muscular gigantic man, admitted with a playful grin. "Allah pitied him and answered his prayers."

Ibrahim's playful jab earned him a playful glare from Imran, but the girls all laughed, the lighthearted banter momentarily breaking the ice.

"Don't mind his lies," Muhammad Imran chuckled, gesturing towards Ibrahim. "This is my very good friend and brother, Ibrahim, and his son, Khalifa," Imran introduced, formally this time.

Jadwa greeted Ibrahim politely, noting his kind eyes and the laughter lines etched around them.

"Congratulations," Ibrahim boomed, his voice radiating genuine warmth. "As you can see, this has been a dream for everyone. Thank you for making it come true for us."

Jadwa blushed shyly, unsure how to respond to such a heartfelt statement. She mumbled a grateful "Thank you" before Ibrahim continued, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper, "May Allah bless your home."

A chorus of "Amins" rose from the small gathering, a beautiful and touching moment that warmed Jadwa from the inside out. The initial awkwardness began to melt away, replaced by a sense of belonging she hadn't anticipated.

As the night wore on and laughter filled the air. Guests mingled, sharing stories and well wishes. Jadwa found herself caught up in the infectious energy, her initial apprehension fading with each passing moment.

Imran remained by her side. He introduced her to more family members and friends, his hand finding hers every now and then, a silent reassurance in the midst of the unfamiliar faces.

During a lull in the festivities, Imran led Jadwa towards a secluded corner of the garden. The air here was cooler, scented with the sweet fragrance of night-blooming jasmine. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees, creating a symphony of soft whispers.

"Are you having a good time?" Imran asked, his voice soft as he gazed down at her. The fairy lights cast a warm glow on her face, highlighting the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes.

Jadwa hesitated for a moment, surprised by the unexpected question. Truthfully, the evening had been far better than she had anticipated. The initial anxiety had given way to a cautious optimism. She met his gaze and offered a hesitant smile.

"Yes," she admitted, surprised by the honesty that tumbled from her lips. "It's... it's been overwhelming, but good."

Imran's smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "That's good to hear," he replied, his voice laced with satisfaction.

He paused for a moment, then reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I know this isn't exactly how you envisioned things," he began gently, before he left he just wanted to reassure her "but I promise I'll do everything I can to make you happy."

Jadwa stared up at him, mesmerized by the sincerity in his eyes. His words were simple, yet they held a weight that resonated deep within her. For the first time that day, she felt all her anxiety and fears fly away . Perhaps, just perhaps, this marriage wouldn't be the nightmare she had initially feared. It could be something more.

She nodded and fixed a part of his Babban Riga "I'll look forward to it" she said with a sincere smile.

Before he responded, Ahmad and Ameerah interrupted their moment ushering Jadwa to go back in as Ammi ordered and she bid him goodnight. Jadwa was brought back into the house by Ameerah for her new nightly routine which of course will go on for the next one month and more.

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