Healing

10.

I look at the two dresses I had placed on my bed. For some reason, I couldn't pick which one I wanted to wear.

Behind me, there's a knock on my door. I turn around to see my brother.

"How are you not ready yet? Even Ma is almost done." He had always hated my tendency to take 'forever' to get ready when we went out.

"I can't pick which dress I want to wear," I whine as I inspect the dresses again. "This one is more light and gives cottage-core vibes but this one gives off mysterious girl vibes."

Ahmed walks up behind me and inspects the dresses as well. "Or maybe it's because Omar is going to be there."

I turn around and lightly smack him. "Don't ever say that again."

"You like him."

"No I don't." There was no way I would like someone as egotistical as him.

Except maybe he wasn't as egotistical as I had thought.

"Cyra, he ticks off all the boxes on your list. Religious, good with kids, good looking by your standards, caring, and I mean do I need to go on. This man is literally something out of a weird fantasy you would make before going to sleep."

"Maybe you make fantasies before bed, but as a girl I just don't. And how exactly do you know all of this?" I look at my brother incredulously. There was no way they had become friends.

"I've just seen him around the Masjid a lot. And let me tell you, every time I walk in to pray he's already sitting in the front row."

I stare at him for a few moments before I push him out of my room. "Stay out of my lovelife Ahmed. Which is non-existent by the way so it should be pretty easy."

I place a hand over my heart as its pace quickened. Shoving the thoughts I knew were bound to come into my head, I focus on picking an outfit.

I end up picking the cottage-core viby dress and put on a brown trench coat over it.

My dad drove all of us there. We met up with Razan and Ilarias families, whom I had successfully introduced.

Razan had one older brother while Ilaria had a younger sister. Our families clicked, and Ahmed and Razans older brother, Ali, seemed like they were enjoying themselves.

Thank Allah it looked like Razan and Ilaria were going to be great friends. Every single friend group of 3 I had seen always ended up turning into 2.

One person was always left out, or the other 2 started hanging out more.

And I guess I had a fear that that person would be me. I didn't want to meet the loneliness that had accompanied me for so long.

Focus in the present Cyra. We're all mature adults, not children.

We all walked in together and went our separate ways when I realised I had forgotten my purse in the car.

"Ma, can I have the car keys? I forgot my purse."

"Do you want us to go with you," Razan asks. She was always so caring of others and I loved it.

"No thank you. It'll only take a minute so I'll be right back. Don't miss me too much."

"That'll be pretty hard," Ilaria says with a dramatic voice.

I take my keys and head to the car.

It was in the backseat where I had placed it. Picking it up, I feel a buzzing inside. My phone was ringing.

It was Omar.

I quickly answer and his voice fills my ear. "You're at the Masjid already?"

"Yup. You?"