Salah's POV

The next morning, I woke up when my mom kissed my forehead and gently told me it was time to get up. I had missed that. She used to do it every time she and I had off on the same days, which was not often. "I'll make some breakfast, you go wash up." She smiled.

There was no noise in the house, so I assumed everybody was still asleep. I had to get up because I had to pack up the little things I brought and get ready to leave. My mom left the room to go make breakfast, while I got up and cleaned up a little. I took a short shower and dried my hair before heading downstairs.

"Good morning, mommy." I gave her a smile as I sat down. She had made me my favorite type eggs and parathe. "Thank you for making me breakfast."

She walked over, spatula in hand, and dropped another paratha into the plate. She kissed my cheek. "Of course, beta. How could I not?"

I smiled, "Let me make you chai."

She nodded and walked back to the stove. "So, Salah, about Badr."

I loved my mom, but she had a way of noticing when I liked someone. She had done it with every single guy I had ever liked, except for one. But I told her about that one, anyway. "Yes, mama?"

"Do you like him?"

"Yes." I wasn't shy with my mom. At first, with my first crush, these conversations used to be a little awkward. But now, they were just normal conversations. "I like him a lot. I was going to stop being friends with him when I realized, but then we found out about his marriage and I thought- well, there's no point in stopping being friends with him now."

"Baby, I think he likes you too." She shrugged as if what she said was normal.

I froze, placing the milk on the counter. My entire face turned bright red. "Wait, what?"

"Yep. It's written all over his face." She explained. "Well, to me it was."

I started pouring the milk again. "That's impossible, mommy."

"Why?" She asked. "Does he like someone else?"

"No..." I answered.

"Then why?"

"Uhm... I guess... I just don't think he likes me." I told her. "But if you say so."

"Just tell me this." She walked to the table with the last paratha. "Do you want to marry him?"

I looked away, "I- ehm- mommy... Uhm..."

"So, yes." She laughed softly. "The only thing I'm worried about is his parents. You can't marry into a family like that."

"If he does like me, then he can't even ask his parents to consider me. They'd just get mad." I sighed. "They don't like me because I'm a muslim girl."

"What would he do?" She asked.

"Probably come to baba personally. I don't know." I paused. "Though, yesterday, we were joking around and he asked what I would say if he were to propose marriage to me."

"You both are oblivious, dense idiots." She laughed, drinking her chai. "I bet you said yes?"

I nodded and sat down. "I did, why?"

"I'm telling you right now, Salah." She stopped sipping her chai. "This is the man you're going to marry."

I ate my food quickly, not responding to that statement. "I should go pack." I gave my mom a smile and kissed her forehead.

"By the way, he has my seal of approval." She called out as I climbed the steps. I packed my bag and sat down on my bed. Both Badr and I were leaving at night, so I had a day to spend doing whatever I wanted with my family.

Until they all woke up, I watched some Pakistani dramas with my mom. When Amir came downstairs, I engulfed him in a huge hug. "You're so big now." I whined. "I can't pick you up."

"Api, I was this big when you left." He replied, unamused,

"Oh, shush." I made him, my older brother, and bhabi pancakes.

My older brother, Sajid, started eating the pancakes as if he had been starved. "I missed your pancakes. No one else makes them like this." He uttered, his mouth full.

"Sajid! Eat first!" His wife, Iqra, scolded.

"Can someone take me to the masjid tonight? I want to pray maghrib salah there before I leave." I asked. "I'll ask Zaida to come as well. She can drop me off at the bus station afterwards."

"Okay, I'll take you." My dad nodded, eating his eggs.

We spent the rest of that day watching movies in the family room with half of us on the floor and covered in blankets, like we used to do. Thirty minutes before the azaan, I went upstairs to get ready. I wore a black and white striped top with black jeans and a bright blue jean jacket on top. I wrapped a white scarf around my head and slipped on my shoes. "Lets go, papa!"

I bade everyone in the house goodbye, especially Amir. I didn't get to talk to him much because he was usually busy with schoolwork. My dad drove me to the masjid and dropped me off, racing back home.

That was when I got a text from Zaida saying she couldn't come. "Sorry, love. I didn't realize how busy I'd be."

I groaned, pacing around outside the masjid. There was barely anyone there and I couldn't see someone I knew. I ran a hand down my face. I needed a way to get to the bus station.

"Salah?" I turned around, having heard Badr's voice. "What're you doing here?"

"Oh, Badr." I responded. "Oh, Badr!" I realized he could help my situation. "I came to the masjid to read maghrib and Zaida was supposed to be here, so she could drop me off at the bus station after, but she canceled."

"I can drop you off." He offered. "But, lets pray maghrib salah first." He chuckled.

I went to the ladies side of the mosque, finding no one but one old lady reading the Qu'ran. I prayed my Maghrib salah, enjoying every minute of it. After finishing up, I met Badr outside.

He got in his car and tried to start it. I noticed that he was having some trouble and walked over. "Is... something wrong?"

"I think... my car might have run out of fuel." He groaned and sat back. "We're gonna have to find a place to stay the night."

I sighed. "Well, there was an old lady inside. I can ask her for help." I told him.

"Okay," He got out of the car. "I'll wait here."

I nodded and walked back inside the masjid. I found the woman sitting in the back of the room. "Excuse me?" I asked.

She looked up, "Oh, yes, dear?"

"My friend and I don't have a way to get back to our college or homes. Is there anyway you could help us?" I didn't want to disturb the poor woman, but I also didn't want to be stranded.

"Of course." She smiled and grabbed her cane, "Let's go outside. I'll call my husband."

I thanked her and followed her outside. I found Badr talking to a man that looked just as old as the nice woman with me. "You two can come with us. We live right next door to the masjid." The man offered.

I glanced at Badr and we both nodded. Even though it was just a glance, I noticed something wad off about his face. It looked like he had makeup on. "So what are your names?" Badr asked politely.

"I am Arooj." The woman answered, leading us to the doorway of a house literally right next to the masjid.

"And my name is Zain." The old man told us. "What are your names?"

"My name is Salah." I smiled and entered the little house.

"I'm Badr."

I looked around the house. It was a quaint, little place. It had a small kitchen and living room that were right next to each other and a little hallway, leading to—presumably—the bedrooms and bathroom.

The old couple led us to an extra bedroom. "You two can stay here." There was one bed and a small couch on the other side of the room.

I thanked them and entered the room, Badr coming in behind me. The door shut and I sat down on the bed. "I guess one of us has to sleep on the couch."

"It's fine, I'll sleep on the couch." He shrugged.

"Okay, this is going to seem absolutely haram and ridiculous but come here." I forced him to sit on the bed while walking to the connected bathroom. I rummaged through the bathroom until I found gloves. I put them on and walked back to him.

He kept his gaze lowered, but I had to raise mine. Something was up with his face and I wanted to know what. I gently cupped his cheek. "Wh- What are you doing?" He asked, alarmed.

"You're hiding something." I murmured, gently wiping the away the poorly applied make up on his cheek and eye. "You lied to me yesterday, didn't you?"

"I- I-" He sighed. "Ye-yes... I did."

I walked back to the bathroom and wet a napkin. I wiped away all the makeup on his face, revealing a huge bruise. "What happened, Badr?" I asked softly, finally lowering my gaze. My cheeks were bright red from doing that, but it wasn't because I wanted to. It was because I was genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

"My dad..." He whispered, looking away. "He got mad."

"So he hit you?" I asked, noticing another bruise on his wrist. "Where else are you hurt?"

"My ankle." He mumbled. "My mom forced me to walk down the steps backwards until my ankle twisted and I almost fell."

"God..." I sat down on the bed, but on the other end so I was farther away from him. "When you said your parents were dangerous... you meant they were actually dangerous."

He nodded. "But, it's whatever now." He got up and walked to the couch. "We should sleep. It's already not okay that we're in a room alone together."

"We don't really have a choice though." I retorted.

"I know." He seemed closed off now, like he didn't want to talk.

"Badr, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm always going to listen." I laid down on the bed.

"I know. Thank you." He mumbled. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, I guess."