Long before today, Aileen had seen the evidence that Jâsim Zakarîyâ was slightly odd. Somehow, buried beneath the blind fear of marrying a man she hardly knew—putting her safety in his hands—she had forgotten that fact. But now she remembered that he was the man who liked to play on the swings on his day off and shared the see-saw with the neighborhood kids. 

As he escorted her out of the restaurant and toward his car, she subtly looked up at him—as men went, he was probably one of the tallest she knew—and tried to look beyond the nature he portrayed to what could lay beneath. Is he really this playful, good person I’m seeing? Or am I being fooled again? 

A part of her acknowledged that Jâsim seemed nothing like Jeremy. He’d had plenty of time to take advantage of her in the time they’d known each other, yet he hadn’t, and when she’d found herself lost with no chance of moving on, he’d given her the protection of his name and a permanent home. They were not the actions of a man with a duplicitous nature. 

But she couldn’t help remembering how charming Jeremy had been in the beginning. He hadn’t seemed duplicitous either. But he had been. Jâsim’s approach had been very different from Jeremy’s. He didn’t exude the practiced charm of her ex-boyfriend that had lured her in; instead, he was sincere and honest. He’d made no false promises of love or romance, nor had he tried to manipulate her the way Jeremy had. But still she worried. 

Jâsim unlocked the car and opened the door for her. As she slid in, he closed it, circled around the car, and then got in beside her. As soon as the engine was running and they were buckled in, he reversed out of the parking space. 

After their departure from the restaurant, Jâsim parked his car in front of a bookstore. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt, got out of the car, and closed the door. 

He returned within minutes carrying a bag which he stowed in the trunk before getting back in. Then he made another unexplained stop at a small grocery store and put another bag in the trunk. 

He didn’t explain either stop to her, and she wasn’t brave enough to question his movements. Jeremy had always slapped her when she asked questions like that. She didn’t honestly believe Jâsim would hit her, but old habits were hard to break and a part of her deep down feared she might be reading Jâsim’s kindness wrong. 

At each stop, he came out with a bag, which he loaded into the trunk so she had no glimpse of what he’d bought. Finally, he drove in the familiar direction that led back to the apartment. Since he’d made no more mention of the game she owed him, she began to once again wonder if he’d been joking after all. 

When Jâsim turned into the parking lot of the apartment complex, he pulled into an empty parking space and switched off the car. 

Aileen’s heart stopped with the engine, and dread crept over her as an unexpected realization came to her which she hadn’t considered. He was coming in with her—and she couldn’t stop him. Not only did the apartment rightfully belong to him, but he was her husband now. She couldn’t stop him from entering, nor had it been part of the agreement. 

Her heart pounded as she watched Jâsim unbuckled his seatbelt from the corner of her eye and then get out. Moments later, he opened her door for her. As fear and dread battled within, she avoided his gaze while unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. 

Jâsim closed the door and went to the trunk, removing the bags he’d stored, and then locked up the car. “Come on,” he said, leading the way toward the entrance. 

She had no choice but to follow. With every step, her heart pounded and her legs trembled. Though she of course knew that marrying meant she had to share her living quarters with him, she wasn’t quite ready to do that. Plus, a part of her feared that once they were really alone together, he wouldn’t think he had to keep the promises he’d made. She’d been pressured and forced into physical intimacy before, but this time it would be his right to ask it of her as her husband. 

What have I done? she thought in a panic. I should have never married him! I can’t do this! 

By the time they reached her door, she thought she was close to having a panic attack, but her whirling thoughts of what to do were interrupted by a familiar, friendly voice. “Aileen. Oh, and Dr. Zakarîyâ?”

Mrs. Jamison stood by her door with both an elderly man Aileen immediately assumed was the woman’s husband, though she’d never met him, and a blond, blue-eyed child who was about nine or ten—the granddaughter Mrs. Jamison always talked about. Each of them dressed up, it looked as if they’d just returned from an outing. 

Before Aileen could respond, Jâsim spoke. “Mr. Jamison, Mrs. Jamison, good to see you.” His tone and smile were sincere. Then he grinned at the child. “You haven’t visited me lately, Jenny, so I hope that means there haven’t been any more accidents.”

Jenny giggled. “No, Dr. Zakarîyâ. I’ve been very careful.”

“Good.” He glanced at Aileen and then back to the couple. “We just got married.”

Mrs. Jamison’s face broke into a wide grin. “Oh my... That’s unexpected. Congratulations, you two.” She gave Aileen a look of gentle reproach. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?”

“It was rather sudden,” Jâsim said smoothly before Aileen could think of something to say to that. “We’ve barely told anyone.”

Mr. Jamison’s congratulations was less effusive than his wife’s, though sincere. Jenny smiled widely and wanted to know what her wedding dress had looked like, to which Jâsim replied that the actual wedding would take place later on. 

After the Jamisons had disappeared inside their apartment, she was once again alone with Jâsim. With the momentary distraction gone, her fear and panic shot up again. 

Jâsim punched in the code for the security system he’d installed. “Give me the keys,” he said, holding the bags with one hand as he extended the other toward her, palm up. 

With a shaking hand, she dug into her purse and pulled out the key ring, dropping it into his palm with trembling fingers and then clasping her hands in the hope that she could hide how terrified she actually was. 

Jâsim set down the bags, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. Then he gestured for her to precede him. “Go ahead.”

She stepped inside, heart pounding and her stomach twisting with nausea. She had no idea what he intended. Though he showed no sign of pushing her for his marital rights, she hadn’t thought Jeremy would manipulate her into a physical relationship before she’d been ready either, nor had he seemed like the type to force his attention on her when she didn’t want it. She’d been wrong before. 

What do I do? she thought as her heart pounded so hard it felt it might burst out of her chest at any moment. What if he decides to...? 

Jâsim was either unaware of how nervous she was or pretending not to notice. He picked up the bags and followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind them. Given what she’d previously experienced of his observational skills, she thought it could be the latter. It gave her no comfort to think that he might be able to see through her attempts to act normal. Jeremy had always intentionally preyed on her weaknesses. 

As she stood in the hall, almost frozen in fear, Jâsim flicked on the switches in both the den and the kitchen as he moved through the apartment. He set the bags on the kitchen table and looked at her. “You’re using the master bedroom, right?”

A chill shot up her spine and she swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Nodding, he left the kitchen. Trepidation coursing through her as much as the blood in her veins, she followed. Every step closer to the bedrooms filled her with dread. 

But to her surprise and relief, he didn’t enter the bedroom she’d been using since she moved in. He barely glanced at it as he opened the door of the room next door and went inside. Aileen knew what he’d see without looking. Except for the built-in closet, the room was completely empty. 

“It’s good enough,” his voice spoke from inside the room before he exited and joined her in the hall. “No attached bathroom, but I don’t get that luxury at my parents’ either.” He shuddered dramatically. “Even worse, I have to share with Waleed. At least I won’t have to do that here.”

She relaxed slightly as she decided that his interest in the bedrooms had nothing to do with her—hopefully. 

“I’ll need to get furniture for that though,” Jâsim continued, passing by her as he walked away from the bedrooms—to her absolute relief—and back toward the kitchen and den. “We’ll do that when I have my next day off.”

Then he led her into the kitchen and dug into one of the bags he’d left on the table. He pulled out a carton of chocolate chip ice cream and presented it to her with a grin. 

She stared in disbelief before reaching for it. Then she stared down at it. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t have to... I’m already married to him, whether I want to be or not. 

“Your favorite dessert, right?” he asked and proceeded to dig through drawers and removed two spoons from the silverware drawer. He picked up the last bag and headed out of the kitchen. “Come.”

Coming to the conclusion that he didn’t seem to have anything nefarious in mind, she followed with the ice cream tub. 

When they entered the den, Jâsim set the bag down on the coffee table and began to divest himself of the white turban and long tunic he wore. He placed each item on one of the armchairs as he removed it. 

At first, Aileen was horrified, but when she realized he was fully clothed beneath the ethnic attire he seemed to prefer—in a long-sleeved undershirt and thick pants—she felt embarrassed and silly. She turned her gaze away from him, hoping he wouldn’t catch on to what she’d been thinking. 

Jâsim sat on the couch, which was directly in front of the coffee table, and glanced up at her. “Don’t you want to undress?”

She stiffened. 

He looked away. “Or stay as you are if you’re more comfortable. It’s your choice. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in something else.”

Aileen forced herself to relax. He’s not a threat, she tried to convince herself. He’s just trying to be nice. “Okay,” she said in agreement. He was right. She’d be more comfortable removing her ’abâyah and hijâb. “I’ll be back.”

He nodded, and she set the ice cream tub down on the table and left the room. In her bedroom, she removed her outerwear and hung it back up in her closet. She returned to the room in the turtleneck and jeans she’d been wearing beneath, finding Jâsim had opened the ice cream tub and was using one of the spoons to eat from it. 

She paused. “Wouldn’t you like a cup or bowl?”

“What do I need those for?” Jâsim asked. “It would just be more dishes to wash. It’s just the two of us so we can share this way.” He picked up the other spoon and held it out. “Come have some before I finish it. According to Sumi, I do that a lot.”

Feeling more than bewildered by this man she’d married, one who obviously didn’t care for adult societal norms, she stepped toward him and accepted the spoon. She gingerly sat beside him but put enough space between them that there was no chance of accidental physical contact. He passed her the tub, his spoon still stuck inside, and then opened the bag on the table while she enjoyed the cold dessert. 

Jâsim pulled out three rectangular boxes which she immediately recognized for what they were—board games. “Since you don’t have a favorite game, I thought I’d start you off with the three I like.”

So he was serious, she thought, eying the three boxes. For the first time that night, the fear and uneasiness slipped away as excitement took hold. 

“A spelling game,” he said, holding up the box of Scrabble. “Sumayyah’s favorite. I’m not sure how I feel about it since she always beats me.” 

Amusement took over at his faux disgruntlement. But she held back the laugh. Instead, she merely smiled. 

“Trivia,” he continued, picking up the second box. “I’m not that good at it, but one of my friends loves it and we played it a lot when I was in college.” He picked up the final box, marked Clue. “Mystery game. My favorite one.” He glanced at her. “Which would you like to try first?”

Aileen tamped down that sudden fear of choosing the wrong one and making him angry. He’s not Jeremy, she reminded herself. Hesitantly, she pointed out Clue. 

He immediately grinned. “Awesome.” He moved aside the other boxes. He stood and left toward the kitchen with the plastic-wrapped box, returning with the wrap gone. As he sat back down again, he removed the cover and started to set up the game. 

As he finished, he leaned toward her, making her freeze. But he didn’t touch her; instead, he plucked his spoon out of the ice cream and took another bite. “Shall we put this in the freezer for later?”

Feeling embarrassed that she’d misjudged his intentions again, she kept her gaze away as she nodded, handing the tub to him. 

He removed her spoon, covered the tub, and left with both the ice cream and the spoons. He returned empty-handed. Then he sat down. “Let’s play.”

The next hour was a time of confusion and high emotions for Aileen that had nothing to do with the game and everything to do with her new husband. There were times she felt happy and almost comfortable, times she felt confused and bewildered by something he said, and then times her nerves and fear got the best of her. It made what should have been enjoyable emotionally exhausting. 

By the time they concluded the game, Aileen needed space from him. Though she felt guilty since he’d been nothing but kind, she was far from comfortable or at ease with him. But she couldn’t tell him to leave either. Not only was it mean and hurtful, but she had no idea how he’d react. If she’d dared to even hint she wanted Jeremy to leave, the consequences would have been dire. 

“Do you want to try something else?” Jâsim asked. “Or would you like to play again?”

She hesitated. She wanted neither, but she didn’t want to anger him either. 

He saved her from responding. “Enough? Well, the agreement was for one game. You can go to bed if you want.”

She was relieved to be excused, but then she realized going to bed now meant he’d be in the apartment while she was asleep—when she was at her most vulnerable state. Slowly, she rose and then looked between him and the exit of the room, uncertain and uneasy. 

“I’m not leaving,” he said, his voice calm, yet firm. Obviously his generosity wouldn’t go as far as leaving the premises because she was uncomfortable. “Lock your door if you don’t trust me.”

Not even knowing how to reply to that, she avoided looking at him and quickly escaped the room. She grabbed the pitcher of water out the refrigerator, a glass, and then hurried to the bedroom before she could risk bumping into him in the hall. Once she was safely behind the door, she locked it. 

Deep down, she was certain he wouldn’t invade her privacy or force his attentions on her. But she’d been wrong before. She wasn’t willing to take the risk that she was wrong again. 

She set the pitcher and glass on her nightstand, went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, and then changed into a nightgown. Then she slipped under the covers and closed her eyes. She tried to dismiss all her worries and concerns from her mind, including the big concern she’d left sitting in her den. 

Aileen didn’t sleep well. Though she did finally fall asleep, she tossed and turned for almost the entire night. Her dreams were filled with Jeremy and Jâsim, and she had nightmares of Jâsim suddenly starting to act just like her ex-boyfriend. She woke up with a pounding heart and drenched in sweat. 

“Just a dream,” she said softly to herself. “It doesn’t mean anything. He’s not like Jeremy.”

When she glanced at her phone, she realized it was almost time for Fajr. So instead of trying to go back to sleep, where she might have more nightmares, she pushed back her covers, sat up, and got out of bed. After showering and changing, she unlocked her door and stepped out to head, to the kitchen. 

Jâsim had probably left a long time ago. There wasn’t really any place for him to sleep since she wouldn’t be sharing her room with him. It was a relief, even if a guilty one. She felt more comfortable alone than being around Jâsim. 

But then, as she was making her way toward the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee before the athân, feeling her way along the dark hallway, she heard it—the alarm of a cellphone from the den. Her heart stopped. She didn’t need to look into the dark room to know he was there; that he’d never left. 

When she reached the hall between the kitchen and the den, she glimpsed the silhouette of her husband sitting up on the couch, his cellphone in his hand. She continued on toward the kitchen before he could notice her and try to engage her in conversation. She wasn’t ready to handle the mixture of emotions he provoked so early in the morning. 

But to her dismay, he came into the kitchen just moments after she was setting out the things she needed to make her coffee. “Assalâmu ’alaykum.”

“Salâm.” She kept her eyes determinedly fixed on her mug and didn’t glance at him. 

“Could I have a cup of coffee before I leave?” he asked. “If you don’t mind.”

She was surprised he was asking. Jeremy had demanded everything of her. It had been an expectation she had to fulfill. She dipped her head in a nod. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” The screech of a chair’s legs scraping against the floor sounded behind her, letting her know he’d sat at the table. 

Whether he’d intended it to be or not, his request for coffee was absolutely terrifying. I’ll mess up, she thought with dread as her shaking hands removed a second mug from the cabinet. She always messed up. Jeremy had never been satisfied with anything. The best times were when his remarks weren’t accompanied by a tirade of how useless she was. But she couldn’t refuse to make him a cup of coffee when she was obviously making one for herself. 

Trying to control the tremble in her fingers she went through her usual routine of heating water in the electric kettle, measuring out instant coffee and sugar into each cup, and then pouring. Then she added the powdered creamer. After mixing well, she picked up Jâsim’s cup and turned. 

It was then she noticed her husband’s observation. He sat on one side of the table, his cheek leaning against a hand while his gaze was fixed on her. His expression gave away nothing. She couldn’t determine what he could be thinking. 

Swallowing hard, she made her way up to the table and placed the mug before him, somehow managing not to spill a drop despite her trembling hands. Then she clasped her hands and waited. 

“I usually drink black,” Jâsim murmured offhandedly as he picked up the mug, said bismillâh, and took a sip. 

Aileen paled as dread washed over her. How could you be so stupid? You didn’t ask him how he takes his coffee! 

He glanced up at her as he set the mug down and immediately his expression changed to one of apologetic regret. “Aileen, it’s fine. I forgot to mention it. The coffee is good.”

“It is?” she asked, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. 

He flashed her a grin as he picked up the mug again. “It is.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Bring your coffee and come and sit with me.”

She didn’t want to. She was more uncomfortable than comfortable around him. She’d rather hide in her room until he left. But she didn’t voice any of those feelings. She went to the counter, picked up her coffee, and returned to the table, sitting across from him. Holding her mug between her hands, she stared down into it. 

“What are you planning to do today?” Jâsim asked. 

She shrugged noncommittally, not raising her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“You can look around for schools that have GED programs,” he suggested. “You want to finish school, right? You can visit some of the schools and see what you think sounds promising. We can discuss it on my next day off.”

Aileen was taken by surprise. She of course recalled that he’d made a promise of sorts to send her back to school to finish the education she’d neglected, but she hadn’t fully comprehended how serious he was nor had she expected him to bring it up so soon. 

She took a sip of her coffee and glanced at him. He was watching her, an inquiring gaze in his eye. She nodded her agreement and dropped her eyes to her coffee. 

Several minutes of silence passed. Then she heard Jâsim set his mug on the table and push back from the table. As she glanced up, she saw him rise and leave the room. 

Moments later, he reappeared, now dressed in his usual ethnic attire. “I’m going. I’ll see you on my next day off and we’ll see about furnishing that other bedroom.”

Aileen tried not to show how relieved she was that he was leaving. But she immediately knew she failed when she saw the hurt expression that passed over his face before he hid it behind a mask of composure. 

“I’ll see you then,” he said. Then without another word, he left. 

A stab of guilt pricked her, but she couldn’t change how she felt. She heard the jingle of keys from the hallway. Moments later, the door opened, closed, and she heard the distinct click of a lock. 

When she drained her coffee and went out in the hall, her keys now hung by the hook by the door. The fact that the door had been locked behind him told her he’d removed the copy of the house keys from the key ring. She shuddered at the thought that he now had complete access to enter and leave the apartment as he wished. 

She pushed away the thought with guilt. She wasn’t supposed to think that way about him. He’d done nothing but be kind. He hadn’t even been upset with her for giving him the wrong type of coffee. Jeremy would have gone into a tirade and would have probably thrown the cup at her. 

She made her way to her room to start preparing for prayer. With Jâsim gone and knowing she may not see him for a while, maybe she could manage to sleep comfortably afterward.