Beneath Loves's Veil

8. Anticipation

It was pushing 1 am by the time we arrived home, and as we approached the door, my father was waiting for us with a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Well, Zahra," he inquired, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Did Khalid talk to you?"

"Yes, Dada," I replied, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"And what did you say?" he pressed, his gaze gentle yet expectant.

I explained to my father that I wanted to pray Salatul Istikhara before giving Khalid an answer. I also mentioned Khalid's plan for me to come to the window at 11 tomorrow and wave if I agreed to his proposal.

"How romantic!" my sister squealed, her eyes shining with excitement.

I laughed nervously, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. My father smiled warmly. "Well, okay, off to bed, all of you," he said. "Ummah isn't in a good mood, so you don't want her catching you all  still awake."

With our goodnights and salams exchanged, each of us retreated to our respective bedrooms, the anticipation of tomorrow's decision hanging in the air.

The next morning, I was roused from my sleep by the persistent chiming of the doorbell. Bewildered, I hurriedly made my way to the window to see who could possibly be calling at such an early hour on a Sunday.

My heart leaped into my throat when I spotted a very familiar Maybach parked in our driveway. Before I could comprehend what was happening, my bedroom door burst open with a crash, and my sister stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Khalid is here!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper that bordered on a shout.

Confusion clouded my mind as I struggled to process the unexpected visit. This wasn't what we had agreed upon. Why had Khalid come home, especially at this time of day? I understood he had a flight to catch in a few hours, but still...

Just then, my brother entered my room, adding to the chaos. "What are you doing in your nightgown? Go to the bathroom, freshen up, and put on something decent," he instructed briskly.

I needed no further prompting; I practically sprinted to the bathroom to hastily freshen up. Grabbing one of the dresses I had recently purchased from Jezza, I hastily slipped it on. Just as I was finishing, my father's voice called out, summoning me downstairs.

With my hand trembling and my heart pounding furiously, I descended the stairs, each step feeling like a weight upon my shaky legs. As I reached the bottom, my gaze was drawn to Khalid, standing there alone, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. My parents stood nearby, watching the scene unfold.

Khalid's smile was like a beacon of warmth in the room, his presence radiating an undeniable heat that seemed to envelop me entirely. When he spoke, his voice carried a deep resonance, vibrating with a magnetic allure that sent a thrill coursing through my veins.

"Assalamu alaikum, Zahra," he greeted, his voice dripping with a sultry charm that sent a rush of heat to my cheeks.

"Walalikum salam," I replied shyly, my cheeks tinged with a soft blush as I acknowledged his greeting.

"You look beautiful," Khalid said, his words hanging in the air with a boldness that caught me off guard, especially in front of my parents. I glanced at him, feeling a mix of surprise and flattery at his unexpected compliment.

"I know I said that I would wait for a reply at 11, but I wanted to give you a gift," Khalid spoke softly.

As Khalid stepped closer, the slight height difference between us became more apparent. At 5'4", I found myself looking up at him, my head reaching just to his chest. The proximity accentuated the contrast in our heights, making me feel small and delicate in comparison. Despite the subtle difference, his presence felt comforting and reassuring, as if he was a protective shield towering above me. As I tilted my face upwards to meet his gaze, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in the air.

I couldn't help but notice the intoxicating scent that surrounded him. My attention was drawn to a bag on the table beside him, a curious addition that hadn't been there before, but I hadn't paid much attention to it until now. With a gentle gesture, Khalid picked up the bag and handed it to me, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Please, open it," he urged, his voice filled with excitement. "I would love to see your reaction."

Eager to discover the contents of the bag, I began to untie the ribbon, but before I could reveal its contents, my mother's voice called out to me from the distance. Startled, I turned around, expecting to find her nearby, but she, along with my father and siblings, was nowhere to be seen.

Assuming they had stepped away to give me some privacy, I called out to my mother, wondering why she had called me. But as her voice grew louder, bordering on frantic, I felt a sense of unease creeping over me. Hurriedly, I returned the bag to Khalid, promising to be back in a moment, and ventured into the kitchen, expecting to find her there. Yet, the kitchen was empty, and my mother's calls only grew more urgent.

Racing back into the living room, I was met with an eerie silence. Khalid was gone, and my mother's calls echoed through the empty room, her tone now filled with panic. With each call of my name, my chest tightened, and I struggled to catch my breath, until suddenly, with a jolt, I snapped awake.

Blinking rapidly, I found myself in my bedroom,my mother standing over me her features were contorted with irritation as she shook me awake, her words sharp and demanding. "Wake up!" she scolded, her voice echoing with impatience. "How long do you plan to sleep? There are chores to be done, and here you are lazing around!"

Groggy and disoriented, I struggled to fully comprehend her words, the remnants of the dream still clinging to my consciousness. But her stern tone brooked no argument, and with a heavy sigh, I reluctantly pushed myself upright, the remnants of the dream fading into the recesses of my mind as I faced the reality of the day ahead.

As I splashed water onto my face, the sense of déjà vu was palpable, a strange echo of the dream that had felt so real just moments ago. Hastily dressing, I stole a glance at the clock, my heart quickening at the sight of the time: 10:15.

With only 45 minutes remaining to make my decision, the lingering effects of the dream still tugged at my thoughts. Despite its unsettling nature, it had left me with a strange longing to be near Khalid. The emptiness I felt when he wasn't there in the dream had left me feeling lost and vulnerable, yet strangely drawn to his presence.

Perhaps, I pondered, this was a sign that I would find security and peace with him. But the weight of the decision weighed heavily on my mind as I faced the uncertain path ahead.

My siblings were absent, and even my father, unusual for a Sunday, was at work. In the kitchen, my mother's presence filled the air, her mood as turbulent as the clanging of pots and pans.

"Your father mentioned you have an appointment near the window at 11 o'clock, so you better start doing this work," she snapped as I entered, her words punctuated by the sharp clang of metal against metal.

Her foul mood was palpable, but with my mother, deciphering the cause was no easy task. Reluctantly, I obeyed her command, setting to work on the mundane task of washing and peeling potatoes, the water splashing against my dress in a futile attempt to drown out the turmoil of my thoughts.

As I finished my task and prepared to leave, my mother's disapproving tut echoed through the kitchen as she thrust a large bag of garlic into my hands. I looked at her, desperation evident in my gaze, but she snapped back sharply.

"What?" she demanded. "Start peeling them, and don't even think about leaving until you're done."

Glancing at the oven clock, I noted the time: 10:50. With each passing second, the weight of my decision pressed heavily upon me. But in that moment, a sudden clarity washed over me—I was going to say yes to Khalid.

If it meant escaping the constant tension and walking on eggshells in my current life, I would say yes a million times over. With renewed determination, I set to work on the garlic, each clove peeled away with a sense of purpose and resolve.

............

Notes:

Salatul Istikhara is a special prayer Muslims perform when they're unsure about a decision they need to make. It's like asking for advice from a higher power, seeking guidance from Allah, the Islamic God. During this prayer, they ask Allah to help them make the right choice by offering voluntary prayers and reciting a specific supplication. It's a way of finding clarity and peace about a decision, trusting that Allah will show them the best path forward.