Zayne

Naina looked genuinely worried, and I couldn't blame her. She had been through a traumatic experience with Advik, and now witnessing me hitting my cousin Omar must have stirred up unsettling memories for her. She probably thought that I reacted physically when I was angry, just like Advik had done.

"Naina, Omar and I have been fighting since we were kids," I began, my voice soft as I tried to explain. "We don't do it when we are actually angry. It's more of a playful thing, mostly when we are irritated. He likes fighting me and sometimes provokes me enough to where I fight him." I knew I wasn't articulating it well. How could I explain the fine line between playful banter and physical aggression?

"Do you like fighting him? Physically?" Naina's question caught me off guard, and I could see the skepticism in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher the truth behind my words, searching for any signs of deception.

"Well, sometimes I do," I replied honestly, meeting her gaze. "It's just a way we've always interacted. I would never want to hurt anyone, especially not you."

Naina searched my eyes for a few seconds before looking away. My mind flashed back to the image of her when she had called me after Advik had hurt her—the sutured gash on her forehead, now hidden beneath her hair, and the bruising and swelling around her eye. I remembered how my own mother had slapped her in a moment of frustration. I reached out and touched her cheek softly, and she bit her lip, a gesture that tugged at my heart.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her, to promise that I would never let anything hurt her again. But somehow, I felt like that wouldn't be something she'd want to hear right now.

"I haven't had problems with my temper; it's not been an issue," I told her finally, hoping to reassure her.

She looked away, and I couldn't shake the feeling that things had gone awry today. I had lost my temper with her on the jet ski, and now this conversation was unsettling me. I wanted to make things better, but I didn't know how.

"Let's watch the sunset before we head back," Omar said, joining us. "I know a place."

"You okay with that, Naina?" I asked her, and she nodded, though I could sense her hesitation.

We made our way to a restaurant on the cliff, attached to a resort with plenty of shaded areas. As we settled in, Omar took a lot of pictures of Naina and me. For once, I was grateful for his presence, as it eased the tension that had settled between us.

Finally, we found ourselves on the clifftop, lounging in chairs under a thatched roof, sipping on tender coconut water while gazing out at the ocean. Omar eventually excused himself, wandering off to catch up with a friend from his old school who happened to be in the area.

"The sea looks so different here than in Mangalore or even Cochin," Naina mused, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the water.

"Yeah, I like seeing it from up here," I replied, watching her as she took in the view.

"Zayne," she said my name, and I automatically smiled. "Tell me something about you that no one else knows."

I had already confided my biggest secret to her. I swallowed, searching for the right words. "Marrying you was the only major decision I've made for myself." I didn't know why my heart was racing as I said this. "My career path, leaving cricket, breaking up with Preethi, where I would work and live after this—none of those were what I chose for myself. Just you... marrying you was the only thing I chose against my parents' will."

She frowned slightly. "Why were they against you marrying me? You said Umma loved me at first sight," she asked, referencing my earlier words.

I hated how we circled back to this topic. "They like you, and they really like your family. They just didn't like that you had... that you had been engaged."

She looked away, and we fell into silence for a few moments. The sun was starting to set, casting a golden hue across the sky, illuminating the clouds in shades of pink and gold as they danced against the horizon.

"Tell me something about you that no one knows," I prompted, hoping to shift the focus back to her.

Naina gazed at the ocean before speaking. "You know when I lost... when I miscarried?" she began, and I nodded, my heart heavy as I waited for her to continue.

"I was really sad that I lost the baby. I really wanted to be a mother, to have a baby with him. But..." she paused, wringing her fingers together nervously.

"I was also relieved..." she finally admitted, her voice trembling. "I felt like such a bad person for that because even in those four days, I had already loved her. But I just was... was relieved."

I remembered how upset she had been during that time. I had spent the night with her, and she hadn't looked relieved then.

"I was so confused. I felt sad that I lost her, relieved that I wasn't going to be a mother, and so guilty—just so guilty for feeling that relief," she confessed, finally meeting my eyes.

"It wasn't the right time, Naina," I said gently. "You were unwed, studying." I refrained from mentioning anything about Advik.

She looked away again. "I feel like that now. Sad, relieved, guilty."

"Naina," I said, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently. I wanted to hold her, but the distance between our chairs prevented that. "It's okay to feel relieved. It's good to feel relieved. That means that somewhere inside, you know that you're in a better place." Heck, I felt relieved that she was feeling relieved!

"Zayne, I feel guilty for hurting him, hurting you, hurting your parents," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But before I could respond, Omar returned, breaking the moment.

"Right on time for the sunset," he said, pointing. The sun had just touched the horizon and was disappearing quickly behind it.

"Let's leave?" he asked.

"Let me change, and I'll meet you at the car," Naina said suddenly. I smiled; she cared about what my mother thought.

"I'll walk with you," I offered.

"Me too," Omar chimed in.

Naina picked up her clothes from the car and headed to a changing room.

"Your wife is definitely hawt!" Omar exclaimed.

"I will honestly punch you until all your teeth fall out," I said, a little too forcefully. I realized how violent I sounded, though I wasn't angry, and I would never actually do that.

"Right! You'll lose," he challenged, a smirk on his face.

I didn't take the bait, focusing instead on Naina's changing room.

"Umma and Sulu Ammai would have gone mad if she had walked into the house like that," Omar commented, and unease settled in my stomach.

His comments about my wife were making me uncomfortable. I liked the way Naina dressed; she never wore anything overly revealing by Indian standards, but by some Muslim standards, her way of dressing would be frowned upon.

I recalled the verse in the Quran, 33:59: "O Prophet, tell your wives and daughters and the women of the believers to draw their cloaks around them when they go out so they may be recognized and not harassed."

The Arabic word 'jilbāb' or "cloak" was interpreted differently by various sects, ranging from an open interpretation of dressing modestly to imposition of covering yourself completely except for your face or eyes.

The context of "go out" was also interpreted differently—it could mean anywhere from covering up when in a public place where you are at risk of being sexually harassed to the more orthodox interpretation of covering up anytime you are outside the company of immediate family.

I was not going to dictate my views or my family's views on Naina. I wanted her to feel comfortable in her own skin, to express herself in a way that was true to her. But at the same time, I didn't want to infuriate my family any further or give them any more reason to question her character.

During the car ride home, Naina stared out the window, her expression thoughtful as Omar and I chatted about the 'friend' he had just disappeared with.

"Man, she is Hindu! With the way things are right now, I'm not getting into any of that no matter how fucking hot she is. Don't want to be accused of love Jihad or whatever. Not worth it," Omar said, shaking his head, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Isn't your mother Hindu?" Naina asked suddenly, her curiosity piqued.

Omar and I both burst into laughter.

"What?" she asked, smiling at me, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Vijaya Ammai is my umma's sister," I explained, and she chuckled.

"Why does she have a Hindu name?" she pressed, genuinely intrigued.

"We don't really know," Omar replied, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "But here are the facts: Vijaya was vapachi's- our grandfather's neighbor. When our grandfather was twenty-five, he wasriding his bicycle, and a car came out of nowhere and hit him. Three days later, a car ran over this Vijaya person. Next thing you know, vapachi marries ummachi and names their firstborn Vijaya."

I wanted to laugh at the stunned expression on Naina's face, though the context wasn't funny at all.

"You think your grandfather had been in love with Vijaya... aunty?" she asked, her brow furrowed in thought.

"No one knows. But both were from rich and powerful families, business rivals. It could have been for love, it could have been for money, or some other rivalry, seeing as both my grandfather and the neighbor were attacked," I told her.

"They must have been in love. Or why would they name your aunt after her?" she questioned, her eyes wide with intrigue.

"Guilt? Or maybe just to honor her if they had been friends," I shrugged. "It happened before I was born, before my mother was born. Don't let it bother you. It could have been an accident for all you know. Back in the day, people did weird things. It wasafter the partition," I added, as though that would somehow justify it.

"I should be careful around your family," Naina said, smiling. "I'll try not to fall in love with you."

I laughed and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Too late, Naina. I'm head over heels in love with you," I mumbled, kissing her head. She stiffened for a moment, but then she relaxed into me.

"I should have taken a different car," Omar commented, feigning exasperation.

"You've never had a girlfriend?" Naina asked him, amusement in her voice.

"Just one serious girlfriend in school," Omar replied. "But we saw what happened to Ikka," he stopped suddenly, glancing at me.

"Yeah, she knows," I told him.

"After what happened with Ikka, I realized it was futile and broke up with her before things got serious," he admitted.

"So you'll have an arranged marriage?" Naina inquired.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, you're taken, your sister is taken," he started, and I playfully punched his ear.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "No punching when your opponent is facing away from you! That's against the rules."

"No hitting on my wife! That's against the rules!" I shot back.

"Okay, fine," he conceded, and I looked at Naina, who was laughing at our banter. My heart lightened, and I wrapped my arm around her again, feeling content.

We would leave for Mangalore tomorrow and I would drive to Manipal from there. I missed her already.

Thank you for reading.

Remember that you are amazing, and there is a reason for everything. You are going to be okay.
❤️Faiza