A Muslim's Romantic Journey

Chapter 41.

Yusuf’s POV

All week I was tense, stressed and worried but when Saturday came, Safia managed to loosen me up. I barely spent any time with her during the week, which was probably why I was feeling so awful.

As agreed, Sundays were dedicated to my family. Despite everything my mum did and would maybe continue to do, she was my mother. I owed her more than I could ever repay. The least I could do was visit her and see if she was okay. It comforted me to know that if my mum ever had an issue, Javed would be there to help her. I wish I could have helped too but Safia and I were barely managing ourselves let alone helping anyone else.

Sunday morning, as usual, I woke up over an hour earlier than Safia. Every week day she made me breakfast so it was only fair that I return the favour. I watched her sleep for a little while before showering and making breakfast. I checked my phone to see four text messages from Maryam asking about when I was going to come. I felt really bad for Maryam so I woke Safia up. But waking Safia up wasn’t an easy job. I had to keep shaking her and threatening her that I’d pull the covers. She finally awoke and we got ready to go see our families.

Now that we were alone, Safia was really opening up. I was glad. She was no longer shy with me and I think she saw me as a best friend. I hoped so. I’ve had close friends but not ones that I couldn’t go days without seeing. They were more like the kind that I’d see in the mosque and talk to for hours. But Safia, obviously being my wife, was different. Unlike any of my friends, she sensed when something was wrong and knew exactly how to make me feel better. The only other person who could maybe have done that was Maryam.

The initial infatuation I had when we were first married was now settling. I didn’t think of Safia as much as I used to and my heart didn’t race as fast when I was around her. But I was comfortable and happy with her. I was certain that I loved her more than ever before. I loved how she was supportive of everything I did. She never once complained about the lack of money or the size of our flat. She had an optimistic outlook on this situation but I wondered how long it would last.

“So you are going to talk to Hamza right?” Safia asked for the hundredth time on the way to her parents’ house.

“Yes! I told you already, yes. I will talk to him about Amy.”

“I was just checking one last time. I’m so excited! If they both agree, Amy might need a wali.” (Guardian – Bride’s representative) Safia said thinking.

“How about Uncle Yahya? He’s well respected in this community, pious and older.”

“Shouldn’t it be like a leader or something? Do we have leaders in the Muslim community?”

“I wish we had proper leaders. But I think Uncle Yahya should suffice. He leads some prayers from time to time and sometimes does the Friday khutbahs.” (Sermon)

“Okay. I’ll ask him. I want to wear this really nice peach coloured dress I saw for their wedding.”

“Aren’t you planning a bit far ahead?” I asked as I pulled up the car while the GPS said you have reached your destination. I still had to learn the route.

“Well we got married in two months of acknowledging each other’s existence! Anyway, I’ll see you later today in’sha’allah. Asalamu’alaykum.” She said as she exited the car.

“Wa’alaykumsalaam” I watched her enter the house before I drove off.

I went to pray then, when I got home, I should start saying my parents’ home, the door was already open. I went inside and immediately started coughing.