Two weeks later..
Ammar...
"Faisal, I don't understand why you're not getting it," I said, exasperated. "I'm only going along with this charade because I can't disobey my parents. I don't have feelings for either of the girls they want me to marry."
Hamad chimed in, his voice laced with skepticism. "Come on, Ammar, we know you. You've been acting strange ever since Yesmeen came back. Are you in love with her?"
I scoffed, trying to sound convincing. "What kind of ridiculous question is that? Just because I don't want to marry those girls doesn't mean I have someone else I love. You're reading too much into this, Hamad."
But his words struck a chord. Am I in love with Yesmeen? I pushed the thought aside, unwilling to confront my true feelings.
"Time will tell," Hamad said, his eyes locked on mine. "
You're talking about the same girl who's getting married on the same day as me? Please, Hamad, let's not start this now," I pleaded.
"Agree or not, one day you'll come to me and admit the truth yourself," Hamad persisted. "
If you're going to spew nonsense, then get out of my office!"
Faisal intervened, his voice calm and reasoning. "Hey, guys, let's not fight about this. Hamad, what's your problem with Ammar? He's already told you he doesn't love her, so what's the issue?"
Hamad's expression is unyielding. "I'm just telling the truth, Ammar. Take it or leave it."
Haba you guys will start behaving like kids
I know you're confused, but the past week has been chaotic for me due to wedding stress. First, there's Ameera, and then there's the other girl whose name I don't even know. Abbi wants me to meet her today, but I'm not in the mood. What's really frustrating me is that they both expect me to spend all my money on this extravagant wedding, including the kayan lefe. I didn't ask to get married, so why are they pressuring me for funds?
"It's been almost two weeks since Yesmeen returned home, and we've barely spoken since then. Her upcoming wedding has created this distance between us, and to be honest, I'm trying to keep my distance for several reasons."
I let out a deep sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. My friends listened intently, trying to make sense of my tangled emotions.
"You know Faisal, right? Well, Hammad is also a close friend of mine. We've been tight since our school days, and the three of us have a strong bond.
Faisal is always the voice of reason, calm and collected, while Hammad and I are more hot-headed, which sometimes leads to heated arguments. Right now, we're in my office, and I just received a call from Abbi. I know I can't avoid him any longer; if I don't show up at his place, he'll never let me hear the end of it.
He's been pestering me to visit since last week, and I've been making excuses daily. I glanced at the clock - 4:50 - and decided it is time to face the music. I removed my white coat, hung it on the chair, and grabbed my phone, preparing myself for what is to come."
"Let's go," I mumbled, and we walked out of the hospital, with them teasing me.
Ammar, don't tell me you're going to her place dressed like that. At least wear a kaftan. You're going to your in-laws' house, not the club," Hammad mumbled.
"Must you poke your nose into my business? Even if I go there, it's none of your business," I replied, a bit annoyed.
"Whatever, man. Do your thing. Give our regards to the bride. Oh, and please, he's right, dress decently. Go back home and wear a kaftan," Faisal said as he hopped into his car.
Hammad gave me a glare, and I shot one right back at him. "Stupid," I muttered.
"If you want, go naked for all I care," he said as he got into his car.
Sliding into my car, I headed home and freshened up. I dressed up in a white filtex kaftan and put on some cologne."
As I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized that I desperately needed a haircut and wanted to trim my beard. But Yesmeen had specifically told me not to. You see, I'm getting married soon, and she has a vision for how she wants me to look on my big day.
I grabbed my cap and car keys, and with the help of Google Maps, I made my way to Yesmeen's house. The house had a plate number, MG UMMAR DIKKO HOUSE NO5, displayed boldly, which made my heart race with excitement.
Yesmeen's father's name and the exact address what brought me to their house. ?Its the same number and title Yesmeen has given me when we talked about me visiting her someday. I can't help but wonder what awaited me inside.
As I honked at the gate, the gate man quickly came and opened it. I'm filled with anticipation and nervousness. I called out to the gate man, asking him to inform the family about my arrival. But before I can finish my statement ,he interrupted me, saying that he has already been informed and was instructed to lead me in.
As I stepped inside, my heart raced even faster. I found a place to sit and tried to calm my nerves. Soon, the same man came and asked me to follow him to another part of the house. I greeted the middle-aged man I saw there with a respectful and bowed my head. He responded with a smile, and then the mother appeared. M y doubt even grow more because they both resembled Yesmeen.
As we returned to the main room, I sat patiently, fidgeting with my phone, waiting for the unknown bride to make her appearance. The sound of footsteps caught my attention, and as I looked up, our eyes met. I couldn't help but utter Yesmeen's name with wide eyes, "Yesmeen!"
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BEST FRIENDS (EDITING)
عشوائيBest friends YESMEEN UMAR DIKKO and MUHAMMAD AHMAD ABDULKADIR known as Ammar, were inseparable when they were younger. They did everything together and shared a bond that could never be broken. Or so they thought. As they grew up, they drifted apart...
