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The merging of multiple chapters in one is slowly coming to an end before we resume the single chapters.
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[XXXVI]

The girls squealed in unison as the men disappeared from view.

Anaya was the first to speak. "Finally! Oh my God, I really thought that was it," she said, pressing her palms to her face.

"Hmm," Jadwa hummed, resting her head on Ammi's shoulder. Ammi chuckled along with the rest, enjoying Anaya's dramatic relief.

"I have suffered," Ameerah sighed, leaning back against the couch, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

"Me too," Anaya said, gripping Ameerah's hand tightly. "I don't even want to see him until he's completely cooled off," she added with a chuckle.

"What did you do?" Ammi asked Anaya, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement.

"I went along with the idea of telling Hajiya, so he sent me to follow her to her house," Anaya explained, gesturing towards Ameerah.

As Anaya recounted the events to Ammi, Ahmad entered the living room.

"Lily, I'm sure even if he had let you stay back, you'd still have been bugging him to follow Ameerah and stay with her for the plans," Ahmad said, sending Anaya a knowing glance.

"He was still so mean to me, Ammi. I'm the last-born, for crying out loud," Anaya exclaimed, her lips forming a pout. "He hates me," she added, frowning.

"Didn't you tell me you'd been begging him to let you stay with Ameerah until the wedding since the Daurin aure?" Zarah asked, earning a sharp look from Anaya.

"Exactly, so you both got what you wanted," Ahmad said, directing a look at both his wife and Anaya. "You should be happy he took it easy on you."

Ameerah glanced away from her husband and toward Ammi, hoping for some intervention. Ahmad had already delivered his piece earlier about their actions.

To avoid another scolding, Hanan quickly interjected. "Ammi, you said you were going to show us everything you've got," she said, diverting everyone's attention.

They spent the rest of the night unboxing and examining all of Ammi's purchases, including those for Ameerah, Ahmad, and Anaya.

Jadwa's night grew even more delightful as she explored the beautiful items her parents and brother had picked out—home decor, appliances, clothes, fabrics, and more.

Jadwa admired the stunning golden Alkyabba she was holding, which fit her perfectly. It was even more exquisite than she had imagined.

She listened intently as Ammi outlined the plans and Ameerah jotted everything down on her iPad—timing, fittings, dates, invitations, accommodations, and coordination with their wedding planners.

"Jadwa all your friends in Jordan will arrive a four days to the conveyance, we've already booked everything" Ameerah said.

Other than that, most of the events were centered around Hanan, who had a cocktail party in Abuja, a dinner in Lagos, and Budan kai, where her husband's family resided. Hanan would be leaving for her honeymoon immediately after, so meticulous planning was crucial.

Thanks to Ameerah, Zarah, and Anaya, everything was falling into place. Jadwa was nearly drifting off when Ameerah gently tapped her.

"I spoke to the photographer. He'll take you on Thursday and Hanan on Sunday," Ameerah said. "We're bringing our lefe on Thursday so Hanan and the stylist can be with you while we handle things here."

For a moment, Jadwa forgot about the lefe entirely. Now fully alert, she sat up straight, focusing on Ameerah.

"What about Hanan?" Jadwa asked.

"Jadu, it can't be the same day. Hers will be later in the week too," Ammi replied.

Jadwa nodded in understanding, and Ameerah and Anaya gave her a goodnight hug. With much left to plan, Zarah retired for bed first, followed by everyone else.

Thursday arrived swiftly, quicker than Jadwa had anticipated. By nine in the morning, she found herself in the middle of their living room downstairs, trying on outfits for her shoot. Her stylist, Grace, and the designer ensured everything fit perfectly.

As she twirled in her outfits, her mind kept drifting to Imran. Over the past few days, he had been distant. It was unclear whether he was upset or simply preoccupied, but he called twice daily and sent texts to check in. Their conversations were brief and often tinged with the exhaustion of wedding planning. Jadwa, too, was frequently exhausted. If she wasn't asleep, she was undergoing a rigorous regimen of scrubs, polishes, massages, and incense. Her stomach was continually filled with various syrups and aphrodisiac concoctions, courtesy of Ammi's family and Ameerah. The intensity of the bridal gyaran jiki had become overwhelming, with sessions happening three times a day or more.

Imran also seemed unusually busy. During his call last night, he shared the contact information for the interior designer he had hired to make adjustments to their home. Although Imran had fully furnished their house, her room and a small living room upstairs remained incomplete. Ahmad and Ammi had insisted on letting them furnish those spaces, and the kitchen was also under their jurisdiction.

Jadwa reviewed the plans sent by the interior designer via email—mood boards and 3D designs. She was captivated by the designs, needing only to make a few tweaks here and there to suit her taste. Everything was crafted to perfection, and she eagerly anticipated seeing it in person.

Returning her focus to Grace, who was discussing details with the makeup artist, Jadwa excused herself for breakfast. She ate alone before heading upstairs for her gyaran jiki and waxing session with the two loyal women who awaited her.

By noon, Jadwa had completed her three-hour session. She dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt, threw on an abaya and a baseball cap, and called Hanan.

Downstairs, Grace was steaming the clothes with incense, and the makeup artist handed Jadwa a hydrating face mask, which she wore from the house to the studio.

Seated in the studio, Jadwa had her makeup done as soft music played in the background. She pulled out her phone and responded to Imran's simple good morning message:

Ya Imran: good morning sweetheart

Jadwa: good morning 🤍. How are you?

Ya Imran: Alhamdulillah, hope you are good too? Out already?

Jadwa: "Yup, already started my makeup."

Ya Imran: "Let me see it."

Jadwa: "You'll have to see it when you are here. Can't ruin the surprise."

Imran: "Okay."

Jadwa sighed at his straight response and turned her attention back to the soothing background music. The makeup artist worked on her face, aiming for a natural yet stunning look, while the hairstylist straightened and styled her hair. Hanan buzzed around, snapping pictures and marveling at the makeup.

When the final touches were complete, it was time to get dressed. Grace helped Jadwa drape the elegant bridal blue laffaya, while her stylist Amanda assisted with her heavy gold jewelry—earrings, bangles, chunky anklets, a ring, and a necklace. Her hair was styled in a simple side part, straightened to cascade down her back, with a few face-framing pieces.

Hanan went downstairs, and the makeup artist began taking videos. The photographer started with solo shots of Jadwa. She kept her anxiety in check, knowing Imran would arrive soon. Posing gracefully for the camera, Jadwa hoped for perfect results. She admired the photographer's skill as he directed her through various poses, capturing beautiful images.

The photographer, J, was exceptionally kind and professional. He made small talk about Jadwa's nationality which was a conversation starter for everyone who meets her because of her looks, he handed her the camera to review the raw images. Jadwa gasped in amazement at the stunning pictures. She couldn't believe she was the one in the photos; they looked too good to be true. Her mouth hung open as she stared, until Hanan entered with a massive bouquet of red roses that she could barely carry.

Hanan placed the bouquet on the table, and Jadwa approached it with a shy smile. She knew immediately who the flowers were from. Her heart fluttered, and a smile spread across her face as she picked up the white card, which held a simple yet heartfelt note.

"If I didn't know you are my answered dua, I would have questioned how on earth I got this lucky." — Muhammad Imran.

Jadwa held the card tightly, her eyes almost tearing up. The note struck her deeply, she had underestimated how certain Imran was about their relationship and how openly he expressed his feelings from the very first day. Hanan squealed and recorded videos, while the videography team captured the moment. Jadwa read the note aloud in a soft, touched voice, her heart warmed by Imran's loving words.

XXXVII

MUHAMMAD IMRAN

He couldn't wait any longer. The longing to see her was overwhelming, and the busyness of their lives only intensified his frustration. He was still reeling from the trick they played on him.

Yes, he was irritated. He had told her he would let her go home, so why was she so impatient that the girls had to involve Hajiya? He understood they had dragged her into the fray because there were countless things they wanted to do for his wife, which he had initially been fine with. He had even been part of the plan until they pulled that last card on him.

Despite his desire to bombard her with calls and FaceTime video calls, he had restrained himself for the past few days, immersing himself in other activities.

Ameerah, Hanan, his stepmother, Ameerah's mother, Fatima, Hajiya, and some of Ibrahim's aunts had gathered to pick up the Lefe boxes in a convoy and head to the house.

As soon as the convoy departed, he got into his car and made his way to the studio. Ameerah, ever resourceful, had hired a male stylist for him. True to his wishes, the stylist's role was limited to ensuring his clothes were perfect.

Imran arrived at the studio, where he was greeted with respect. He called Hanan and arrived just forty minutes after texting Jadwa.

He spent twenty minutes chatting with Hanan about the stresses of the wedding before entering the changing room. He changed into a sophisticated Babban Riga , a well-tailored white kaftan and trousers. Emerging from the room, he donned the Babban riga, and the stylist helped him with his watch, shoes, and the folds of his Babban riga. Imran glanced at his reflection in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction. He looked dashing, but today there was something uniquely special about his appearance. He looked every bit the groom he was.

"Are you sure my sister won't faint when she sees you?" Hanan wiggled her brows playfully, making Imran chuckle.

"It might be the other way around, Hanan," he replied appreciatively.

"You're right. She looks like a doll, unreal, I promise," Hanan said, heightening his impatience to see her.

Imran nodded three times, unable to articulate his feelings. "I'm sure she does," he said with a smile.

As they spoke, the flowers arrived. Hanan took them upstairs after Imran asked her not to tell Jadwa he had arrived. "You really aren't holding back when it comes to stealing this girl's heart," Hanan whispered from the stairs, and he shook his head in agreement.

He was determined to impress his woman, whether through small gifts or grand gestures. He wanted her to smile, to fall completely for him, including her heart, which he was sure he had yet to fully win.

He followed Hanan upstairs, almost stopping in his tracks when he saw the beautiful smile on Jadwa's face from the side. He moved quietly, careful not to draw attention.

Imran nearly stopped, his lips forming a silent "MashaAllah" as he took in her appearance. The blue laffaya, her hair, and the contrast were breathtaking. She looked pure, beautiful, and unreal. All his irritation and displeasure melted away immediately his eyes landed on her.

His gaze lingered on her as she held the laffaya and bent to smell the roses. When she straightened, Imran wrapped his arms around her from behind, earning a small gasp.

Jadwa turned toward him, and he tightened his embrace.

"Hi," she said shyly, her eyes meeting his.

"Hi," he responded, absorbed in her presence. For a moment, the cameras and the people around them seemed to vanish.

Jadwa stood under his gaze for a long minute. Realizing he wasn't going to stop looking, she leaned into his arms, careful not to stain his Babban riga with her makeup.

"Fa tabarakallahu Ahsanul Khaliqeen," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her head before stepping back. Jadwa blushed furiously, and Imran delighted in seeing her shy, blushing, and smiling.

When he finally turned to acknowledge the people present, they greeted him warmly, and he responded with respect. Everyone had broad smiles on their faces, clearly impressed by the couple.

"You look so..." Jadwa began, then looked down shyly as he took her hand as the crew fixed more things, leaving them alone momentarily.

"You are very handsome," she said softly. "You look really good," she added with a smile, and he gently caressed her ring, the one he had gifted her.

"Thank you," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it.

The photographer directed them to a beautifully decorated traditional setup. Imran was impressed with the overall service.

The shoot began slowly. To his surprise, Jadwa wasn't awkward or shy. They took numerous pictures, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to take his eyes off his wife. Every time she smiled, held his hand, or leaned on him, his heart swelled with happiness.

Standing together, before the photographer returned, Imran wrapped one arm around her waist and the other across her shoulders. He clasped his hands together, leaning close.

She always smelled heavenly. He inhaled her scent as her small hand rested on his wrist and the other on his elbow.
"You smell so good," he murmured in her ear, admiring her glowing skin beneath the laffaya. Her skin had always been beautiful, but today it looked especially radiant. The glow on her face and skin was so bright.

He closed his eyes momentarily, hearing the camera clicks, but he held her close.

"Hold the pose. Now look at him," the photographer instructed, and Jadwa followed the direction, feeling his breath on her neck.

After a few shots, everything felt almost natural. His hands remained at her waist, his eyes locked on her face as she gazed at the camera.

Jadwa rested her head gently on his chest, holding his hand. He smiled at the camera, marveling at how well she posed. It was no wonder she was always taking pictures; she had a natural talent for it.

That was the final shot for the first outfit, and the team clapped. It was time for Jadwa to change, and he would take his solo shots.

He reluctantly released her hand as she went into the partition to get her hair styled and makeup touched up.

Imran, after finishing with the photographer, went to find Jadwa. She looked up from her hair styling, and he smiled at her.

"Amarya," he raised a brow, and she scoffed playfully.

"Too many gray hairs; I would have called you Ango," she said, causing him to fold his arms, feigning offense.

"You almost stopped breathing when you saw me earlier, and now you're calling me old?" he asked, making her laugh.

"Look at me," he said, adjusting the fold of his Babban riga and then his cap, making Jadwa look at him with pure amusement. She laughed out loud.

"I'll go marry another girl who will proudly call me her groom," he teased as she continued laughing.

"I agree" she said sarcastically "you can get one from the girls enjoying looking at you everyday" she raised a brow, recalling the pictures of him on Anaya's Instagram.

"What do you mean?" he asked, amused.

"I didn't know you were a fan of showing off your body to the public," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

"And when did I do that, ma'am?" he asked, moving closer and lifting her chin to meet his gaze when she rolled her eyes and looked away.

"I mean, It's everywhere, even on lily's social media. Or maybe I am wrong you might be a famous body builder," she said, and he smiled at her sarcasm making her annoyed visibly.

Jadwa scoffed at his smile and muttered something under her breath which he heard clearly, "But you're always policing how my family should post me."

Imran kept quiet calculating his words before he spoke...

  "Are you jealous?" he asked, still smiling.

"Pftt," she rolled her eyes. "Why would I be? You can show all your muscles and body to the world; I don't care," she shrugged.

"You don't?" he asked.

"Yes, I do not," she reaffirmed.

"Okay then" he shrugged too and she sent him a very dirty glare from the corner of her eyes thinking he didn't see her, but he did.

As much as he enjoyed seeing her jealous, he couldn't drag it anymore because first, she was clearly not finding it funny and two, it was a great day he can't stand seeing her moody.

"The pictures will be taken down right away, your highness," he said, pulling her close, but she shifted back.

"Don't touch me," she said, pulling her hands away.

"I'm sorry, okay? Come on, baby," he tried again, but she only frowned, remembering how his naked back had been photographed attractively and seen by many, especially girls.

"I've heard enough; now I need to get my makeup done," she snapped, and he moved closer, taking her hand and bending down to kiss her palms.

She remained sulking, so Imran took out his phone and made a call.

Jadwa avoided looking at him, waiting for him to leave until she heard him put the call on speaker.

"Lily, can you take down all my pictures from your Instagram?" he asked.

"All?" Anaya's voice came through the noisy background.

"My gym pictures in particular, or any inappropriate posts for a married man," he clarified, meeting Jadwa's gaze.

"Ohhh," Anaya laughed. "Okay, I understand," she chuckled.

"Right now, please," he said.

"Yes, sir, right away," she replied, and he ended the call.

Jadwa looked at him, struggling to hold back a smile.

"Are we cool now?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Then tell me I'm your groom," he said.

Jadwa gave him a playful glare, flipping her hair back. "Ango na," she said in a teasing voice. "Shikenan?" (Is that all?) she asked with a small smile, and he mirrored her smile, nodding.

He moved forward and kissed her head again, then asked gently, "Are you going to cover your hair?"

Jadwa bit her lip, as if considering his question, "I'm wrapping my scarf and wearing a big veil over it."

He nodded in agreement. "The pictures will definitely be released to the public; I don't want your hair showing," he said, and she nodded.

"Okay," she said softly with a smile.

"That's my girl," he said, giving her a light kiss on the cheek before stepping out and leaving her to continue with her preparations.

Imran went downstairs and changed into his next outfit a sleek black Babban riga. It was perfect, masculine, and refined, and he was eager to see how his wife would look.

He changed his watch and cap, feeling satisfied with his appearance. He took his time reviewing the pictures the photographer had shown him. The initial pictures, where Jadwa sat on the floor with her head resting on his knee, captured a traditional and perfect theme. The later pictures, showcasing their natural interactions, were breathtakingly beautiful. They seemed almost private, capturing their intimate moments perfectly.

When Jadwa finally emerged, her voice talking to the stylist drew his attention. He adjusted his Babban riga before his eyes landed on her.

She was dressed in a stunning light purple and black Ankara, with the wrap sitting perfectly on her head and the black veil enhancing her bridal glow. Her appearance brought back memories of the first picture he saw of her years ago, and he marveled at how their lives had transformed in ways he had never imagined.

XXXVIII

JADWA

She dressed in a fitted blouse with a modest V-neckline and a skirt that flared into ruffles at the bottom. Silver jewelry adorned her neck and wrists, perfectly complementing the outfit. Her scarf was pushed back slightly, revealing just a hint of baby hairs, while the rest of her hair was neatly tucked into a head wrap made from the same Ankara fabric. A large veil cascaded gracefully from her head down past her calves.

Jadwa gazed into the mirror, her smile widening as she admired how bridal she looked. She cherished the reflection for as long as she could before they called her out.

Stepping out of the dressing room, she found Imran talking with the photographer. In that fleeting moment, her breath caught at the sight of him. Imran looked every bit the handsome man; his Babban Riga accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. The way the fabric draped over his muscles, with its intricate design, made him look incredibly masculine. He seemed to sense her gaze, his eyes meeting hers as he looked up.

He offered her a small smile, and Hanan guided her to a new set with a plain background. Imran's gaze remained fixed on her, and as she stood before him, he gently took her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers.

"You look so beautiful," he said, and she thanked him shyly.

"You look handsome too," she replied genuinely. "I think I prefer this outfit over the previous one," she added.

Imran pondered for a moment before responding. "I don't think I can choose," he said. "But I do love this one a lot."

"You look like a groom," Jadwa said absentmindedly.

"I am a groom," he chuckled, and she hoped he didn't notice her intense stare checking him out constantly.

The shoot began, and both of them soon felt more at ease with the camera. They snapped countless pictures, with Jadwa standing and Imran seated, holding her hands and kissing her ring.

"You should wear it more often," he said, noticing the ring he had gifted her. She blushed at his observation.

"I will," she replied. "How did you find this jeweler?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"It's a secret, but I'll tell you later," he winked, making her shake her head as they continued the shoot until they were interrupted by voices.

Sadiq entered with two men carrying paper bags, and he himself held two more. Imran rose from his seat as the photographer called for a break. Jadwa's stomach began cramping, and she greeted Sadiq politely.

"What a beautiful couple, mashaAllah," he exclaimed, and they both thanked him.

"You look perfect," Sadiq said again, and Jadwa smiled shyly, feeling Imran's hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, and he nodded.

"It was so exhausting, right? I brought some lunch from the restaurant," Sadiq announced, and Jadwa's eyes widened with gratitude as she looked at the numerous paper bags.

"It really was," she sighed. "Thank you so much. It's a lot though," she added, noting the abundance of takeout.

Sadiq waved off her concern with a smile. "It's nothing," he said, and she thanked him once more before settling onto a couch in the studio corner, resting her head back and taking a deep breath.

When Imran returned with Sadiq, she straightened her veil.

"I'll be heading out now," Sadiq said, and she stood up.

"Already?" Jadwa asked, hoping he might stay longer or join them for lunch.

"I only came to drop these off. I've got a lot of work to do, thanks to your husband," Sadiq said, and Imran shook his head in disbelief.

Jadwa mouthed a small apology to Sadiq with a knowing smile as he waved goodbye.

"Please send my regards to Fatima," she said with a smile.

"In shaa Allah," Sadiq replied politely before leaving.

Jadwa closed her eyes and rested her hand on her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Imran asked, his eyes showing concern.

She nodded, but he looked at her skeptically. "Are you tired?" he asked.

"A little bit," she admitted.

Imran nodded and glanced at the takeout. "Did you even have breakfast?" he asked.

"Yeah, I had cereal," she replied, and he laughed, shaking his head.

"That's not food," he said, making her laugh along.

Jadwa felt another cramp and winced, prompting Imran to look at her with worry.

"Are you sick? What's wrong?" he asked gently, taking her hand.

"No, I'm not," she smiled, but he stared at her hand on her lower abdomen.

"Is what you're wearing uncomfortable?" he asked.

Though the blouse was snug around her waist, it wasn't uncomfortable. "No, it's not," she assured him.

"Does your stomach hurt?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Sorry. Should we leave after we eat?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"No, I'm actually okay. We're not done yet. It's almost Asr, and you need to pray," she said.

"You're not praying?" Imran asked, surprised. The question caught her off guard, and she froze momentarily, pressing her lips together. He opened the food containers, retrieving chopsticks and forks.

"You're not? Is that why your stomach hurts?" he repeated, and Jadwa nodded, avoiding his gaze as she sipped her drink.

"Why are you shy about saying it?" he asked, taking the drink from her and having a sip himself.

Jadwa sighed, unsure how to respond. His casual demeanor made the situation feel less awkward than she had anticipated.

"I'm not shy," she said softly.

"Good, you shouldn't be," he said, using the chopsticks to feed her noodles.

They ate in silence, Jadwa not picking up a fork as Imran fed her while eating.

"Where is this from? It's so good," she said, enjoying the chicken he just gave her.

"Remember the restaurant we went to with Hanan?" he asked.

"When you made me try sushi?" she asked, and he nodded with a smile.

"Exactly, it's Sadiq's," he said, and she gasped, recalling the restaurant's beautiful architecture and delicious food, as well as the kind and skilled Japanese chefs.

"Wow," she said as he handed her a water bottle.

"Wow, that's his?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes," Imran laughed. "He's been here longer than Lily and me. He's a great businessman."

"MashaAllah! That's so impressive! It's such a beautiful place," she said, reminiscing about her experience.

"I thought you worked together," she mentioned.

"We do. He's just exceptional with handling businesses. He's in charge of our companies and farms too," Imran explained, and she nodded, pleasantly surprised.

"Mmmm... now I understand," she said.

"You work a lot too," she noted.

"There's a lot to handle, especially in this country. I have to be on my toes all the time," he said.

"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Corruption runs deep in people's hearts over here ," he said.

"That's true, but I pray everything goes well for you" she agreed, taking a bite of rice he offered.

"So far, I'm liking it. It's going well, Alhamdulillah," he said, and she smiled.

"Alhamdulillah," she repeated. "I'm full now," she said, shaking her head when he offered another bite.

He nodded, pleased with how much she had eaten, and continued eating himself.

"I'll go pray now. Tell Hanan to get ready. I'll take you back," he said.

"We're not done yet," she protested, and he looked at her before responding.

"Well, you don't feel well," he pointed out.

"I'm strong enough to continue," she countered.

"We've snapped enough pictures, Jadwa," he said, his shoulders slumping as he stood.

"Ya Imran, you paid millions for this. We can't waste it," she said in a low voice.

"We've taken enough pictures, and they look incredible," he said. "It's enough. You need to rest; we have a long week ahead of us," he said, tidying the table.

"I didn't get solo pictures, and we're not finished and there's one more outfit," she insisted.

"Pleaseeeee" she dragged taking a hold of his hand before he argued or made up his mind.

"If you insist," he said, checking to see if she was truly okay. She stood up firmly, showing him her resolve.

"Okay! okay!" He agreed "I see you're determined," he chuckled, making her grin.

XXXXIX

He left for the mosque, and as the team arrived, they thanked Jadwa for the lunch. She appreciated their gratitude while the makeup artist touched up her gloss and dressed her in a white mermaid gown that flowed elegantly with a long, sweeping train. Her veil draped even longer, cascading around the room.

After spending over an hour preparing in the white dress, she was sure Imran had returned. Mindful of his comment about her head covering, she opted for a bun instead of letting her hair fall loose. The makeup artist wrapped the same fabric around her head, covering only the middle portion, while the veil fell gracefully over it. Everyone was wowed by how stunning she looked.

Jadwa's jaw dropped as she gazed into the mirror, her eyes welling up with emotion. Despite her simple, natural makeup, she resembled a bride. The beading on her dress sparkled more beautifully than ever before.

She descended the stairs to find the setup for the shoot complete. The background was adorned with real flowers and elegant decorations, looking straight out of a movie. Jadwa was pleased with the money spent on the decorations and the photographer.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to Imran, who sat patiently as the photographer conducted test shots. She couldn't take her eyes off him, mesmerized by his first appearance in a suit. MashaAllah, the way his strong back and muscles were highlighted by the suit, combined with his height, almost took her breath away.

Imran's eyes were fixed on her too. He stood up with a smile that didn't waver as he waited for her to reach the bottom of the stairs.

Jadwa could see that he was just as speechless as she was. When he enveloped her in a hug, she melted into his embrace. "I wasn't expecting this," he whispered.

"I don't have words," he continued. "You look like you don't belong in this world." The seriousness in his voice made Jadwa throw her head back and laugh.

"What does that even mean?" she asked through her laughter, joined by everyone, including the photographer.

"Honestly, Ya Imran, humans don't look this good," Hanan said, and he nodded in agreement, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

"Exactly, Hanan. You understand what I mean," Imran said, giving Hanan a thumbs-up.

"I hope you don't mean a jinn, sha," Jadwa joked, and he laughed this time.

"I don't mean that, sweetheart," he said, drawing her closer and whispering sweet things in her ear.

Jadwa hadn't stopped blushing since she saw him today, even the air was different, there was something so special about the day and he looked so happy and excited which warmed her in ways she wasn't expecting it to.

The shoot proceeded smoothly, with more intimate poses than before. They held each other tightly, their faces close, their breaths mingling. By the end of the session, Jadwa was sitting on Imran's lap, her hands resting on his face.

Fortunately, Hanan had gone out to meet her fiancé, leaving just the camera clicks and no awkwardness.

When they finished, Imran held her close, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "I can't wait for you to come home," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"It's just a week left," she said, leaning into his embrace.

"I know, but a week feels like a long time," he said, making her chuckle.

"It isn't," she countered with a soft laugh at his sulking.

"We'll have all the time in the world afterward," he whispered, and she melted at his words for the maybe the billionth time now.

They spoke to to each other in low voices that everyone there didn't even hear anything they were saying except for their laughter, Jadwa sat there in his hold for a long moment before she stood up with the help of her stylist and changed back into her jeans, top, and abaya. She wrapped her veil, buttoned her abaya, and handed her heels to her stylist. She gave each member of the team; the stylist, makeup artist, hair stylist, and designer a big hug, thanking them profusely before bidding them goodbye as they packed up and she headed downstairs with her handbag.

Imran had also removed his suit, and she found him chatting with Hanan and a light-skinned man who was smiling and conversing with him. From Hanan's expression and the pictures she had seen on her phone, she recognized him.

"Jadwa, meet Ameer," Hanan said as Jadwa came downstairs.

"Hello, Ya Ameer," she greeted with a broad grin.

"Hello, Jadu," Ameer responded warmly.

They exchanged pleasantries and small talk. Jadwa was pleasantly surprised by how friendly and jovial her sister's fiancé was. This was the first time she was seeing him in person, although she had said a few words to him over the phone in the past few days she was more than happy to find out his personality was even more amazing in person.

"Are you sure you two aren't trying to outshine us?" Ameer asked when she stood next to Imran.

"That's the plan," Imran said, earning a laugh from Ameer. "We're taking the competition very seriously," he added, and Jadwa nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Oh, now I see," Hanan exclaimed. "And you made me work in your favor?" she gasped, causing everyone to laugh.

"Ameer, you had to see them earlier. I took some behind-the-scenes videos. I'll show you," Hanan said, making Jadwa smile shyly. "I worked so hard not knowing it was a competition for them" she said feigning hurt.

"Send them to me," Imran said, and Jadwa rolled her eyes at his habitual exploitation of her photos and videos. He didn't even mind spending unreasonable amounts to get them, which always baffled her.

"Only if you'll pay," Hanan said, eliciting laughter from everyone.

"I told you to stay away from Ameerah and Anaya, didn't I?" Imran said with a mock hurt expression.

"Okay, I'll send it," Hanan agreed, waving it off. Then Ameer whispered something that made her reconsider immediately.

"Aren't we competing? I can't let you have it just like that," Hanan said.

"You can keep your videos; we already have everything," Jadwa defended her husband, knowing the photographer had captured more content than Hanan could ever have.

Time seemed to slip away as Ameer and Hanan delved into conversation with Imran and Jadwa sat resting from the exhaustion of the day. Eventually, the inevitable moment of parting arrived. Imran rose, his hand outstretched to Ameer. Following the handshake, was a warm brotherly hug. Jadwa, observing the interaction, couldn't help but notice the apparent age difference between the two men. Ameer was clearly younger, yet Imran's demeanor was marked by a welcoming warmth and genuine interest. His patience and effort in engaging Ameer in conversation made her so happy.

As the day waned and the sun began its descent, casting the world in hues of orange and pink, Imran drove them home. With each passing hour, the anticipation of the momentous days ahead grew, casting a long shadow over the present.