A Halal Love Story #Wattys2019 - BEING EDITED

Chapter 33

Recap...

They have me sit down by the groom and my heart starts racing. They leave after I sit down because of the obvious tradition that occurs during the Nikkah. Mom told me beforehand that there wouldn't be more than 10 people in the room for the Nikkah, and that I could choose to see the groom before the papers were signed or papers; I chose after. My scarf covers my forehead, and my eyes aren't visible to anyone.

"We'll wait for a couple minutes and then we'll start the Nikkah." The imam says and everyone voices out their agreements. I don't say anything or move an inch because I don't know how to react.

"Ok ladies and gentlemen. We are going to start the Nikkah now." The imam says and the mumbled whispers now turn to complete silence.

The imam hands the groom the wedding papers, and I hear the sound of the pen gliding on the paper. My mom who is sitting on my left hands me my papers and I know that I could look at the space filled where it says the groom's name but I don't. I feel the anxiety cluster around me, and with shaking hands I sign the papers. As I finish, a lone tear drop falls on the paper, and I know that I can't do this.

"I need some time." I say out loud breaking the silence.

I hand the papers to mom, and without looking at anyone, I scamper away from the wedding. Away from everyone. Away from the groom. The groom whom I don't love. I go upstairs, and the tears are let loose in the darkness.

CHAPTER 33

As I cry, I hear someone come up the stairs, and the tears just won't stop. The darkness embraces me, and I'm pretty sure my makeup is all smeared by now, but I feel like I just need some time; some time to think.

I expect it to be mom coming up the stairs but I don't turn around as I'm too embarrassed to face her right now. I feel someone hug me from behind, and let me just tell you... it's not mom. I turn around and look at the person with tears rolling down my eyes. To say I'm surprised to see Hamza is the truth of the century.

"What are you doing here?" I say, and he hugs me in a tight embrace. I accept it and place my head on his chest.

"You shouldn't be crying." He says, and the tears keep falling out of my eyes. He takes out a handkerchief and wipes away my tears. His calloused fingertips touching my cheeks and eyes sinfully.

"You look beautiful without the makeup Layla." He says, and I feel my heartbeat quicken in realization, that he took off the makeup. I know my cheeks are turning a bright red, but luckily the dark covers it up for me.

"Go back to your wife to be. This isn't right." I whisper to him with an ache in my heart.

"I am." He says not looking away once.

"So you are going?" I ask.

"No. I mean I'm already with her." He says and it takes me a while, but I get it.

"You're—" I say but am cut off.

"I'm mystery man as you like to call it; if you haven't gotten that yet." He says with a bright smile.

"I love you Hamza." I say to him not caring how stereotypically, the guy has to say it first. He's expressed his love more than I have anyways.

"I love you more." He says kissing me on the lips. I still feel butterflies around him, but now they aren't guilty, sinful ones.

"So should we go downstairs?" He says and I laugh.

Hand in hand we go downstairs, and everyone starts congratulating us, and I don't let go of his hand. I hope he doesn't mind my clammy hands.