What Not To Do When You're In Love

02 | Fault

I stood up, deciding that I should do something.

I walked to the corner where my things sat in shiny suitcases. After sitting down, I started placing my clothes and other belongings in the empty wardrobe and shelves. My most treasured collection of books, some old and battered paperbacks, some newer ones, my  brand new Mushaf. My daily essentials like shoes, abayas, all went in, one after another. My possessions took their places quietly between Hasan's things; my presence settling amidst his.

He had been stealing glances every few minutes.

I shuffled some books around for a few minutes, and straightened the last pile of books for the fourth time.

I turned to him.

"Am I...Am I expected to make breakfast?"

"Oh, no!" He chuckled.

I did not like that laugh.

Do I always have to put up with being laughed at, now?

"Of course not. It's just your first day. Don't worry about any such thing today."

Well.

"Wait," his expression changed. "Are you hungry? Let me go check if breakfast is ready."

"No," I said quickly. "Let's wait, please."

I sat down again, and looked down at my clothes, wondering if I could ask him if my clothes looked fine.

And then he spoke.

"You look pretty."

I stared at the ground. I didn't know how to respond!

Just then, there was a knock on the door. He walked over to open it.

"Bhai, you and Bhabi can come down for breakfast, it's ready." I guessed that was Hafsa, Hasan's younger sister by a year.

I had met Hafsa Ilmas only once, and that was before the marriage was finalised. She was the one who had been given the task to figure whether I was as 'good' a girl as my mom had made me look like.

Apart from being absolutely gorgeous, she had seemed really sweet to me. We spoke like college girls and got comfortable with each other.

"Okay, coming," he said, and turned to me. "Come, let's go."

I followed him outside, walking with slow steps, towards the dining room. With each step I was feeling more conscious and nervous.

Aunty Husna was drying freshly washed crockery. I said salaam to her and started helping with it.

"Oh, leave all this, beta. Please sit, and eat properly, child! Rumana must not think I am not caring for you enough," she laughed after mentioning my mother. "Remember we must leave soon after lunch for the salon, or we'll be late for the reception."

She turned towards Hasan.

"Oh, my little boy. All grown up, and now a husband!" Her excitement toned down as she whispered, "I have not seen a happier day."

The mention of the reception tonight made my shoulders ease. I would see my family again. I thought of mamma and Jebrail and Amaan, and wondered how they must be feeling at breakfast today, in my absence for the first time in all our lives.

Then Aunty Husna called Hafsa and the others, and several aunties and kids appeared. They caressed my cheeks, whispered masha Allah, and mentioned and how good I looked. Calculatedly, I blushed every few minutes.

They were now taking their seats one by one and sat. I just stood there, looking.

Again, I surprised myself, looking at him for an indication of where I should sit.