Dawud.

Chapter 44: Meet Eman

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

Dawud's P.O.V

I change into my clothes while Jannah slipped on the new outfit she compiled that same day. After tightening my belt I walked past her to grab my dress shirt. Catching my eye, she blushed. "Need help with that?" I asked, observing how she couldn't zip her dress completely. With a shy nod, she turned her back towards me and released the metal zipper. I zipped it up with ease, pulling her close to me when she stepped further. With my arms wrapped around her middle, I kissed her temple softly. "How I've missed you." I whispered for just us to hear in this one-floor apartment.

"I've been right here." She replied, bringing a hand upwards to scratch (what Jannah called) my "new baby beard", causing me to roll my eyes back with pleasure. It felt so good, I never wanted her to stop.

"I haven't." Guilt washed over me. "Mentally, I've been somewhere else." I admitted, leaning into her hand.

"And how did you like your little vacation?" She questioned me, removing her hand from my beard and playfully pinching my nose.

"I hated it. Terrible room service, overpriced taxis and shameful hospitality." I complained, biting back a laugh.

A wonderful and throaty laugh escaped Jannah's lips. She clapped her hands with joy and leaned into me at last. "You don't plan on going back there, do you?" She asked me.

"I pray Allah never allows me to."

As I slipped on my shoes, Jannah came to put her's on as well. She wore a beautiful navy blue dress that flowed against her frame, a frame hidden by the loose fit of the dress. She stood up straight after clasping on her favorite sandals and took my breath away. Long, beautiful eyelashes framed her bright eyes and her skin was radiating light from under our dim foyer. "Beautiful." I blurted, unintentionally. Jannah laughed, covering her smile with her hand.

At the party, I introduced Jannah as my wife. All of my aunts greeted her with a truckload of kisses and hugs and pinches on the cheek. They spoke to her in Arabic, which I noticed left her feeling somewhat distressed and out-of-place. She'd simply smile politely and turn to me for a well-needed translation. Everything was going well until my cousin Eman had arrived at the family gathering. She strolled in and screamed excitedly when she saw me. Three long strides and she leaped into my arms. I stood there, frozen and surprised while she tightened her grip around my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist. Her mother, my aunt, swatted her on the shoulder and yanked her off of me. Now, standing on the floor, she clapped her hands together and sighed. "Dawud." She proclaimed, biting her lip. She carried herself the same way a six-year-old girl would and that had shocked me the most.

I looked over at Jannah who gawked shamelessly. Her jaw nearly fell to her knees with shock. No one had said a thing.

"This is his wife, Jannah." Eman's mother told her. Jannah blinked a few times and closed her mouth. With an upset gaze, she looked Eman in the eye.

"Salam." She told her.

Eman ignored her and turned to me. "How long have you been married?" She asked bitterly.

"Alhamdullilah, 2 months, 1 day and 3 hours." I replied back, holding out a hand for Jannah.

My wife sighed with relief and took ahold of my hand. I knew that my reaction in situations like this was crucial to the growth of Jannah and I's relationship. Her being insecure and me being often insensitive had put us in so many difficult situations. In one swift movement, my arm was over her shoulder and she flashed a small and somewhat sad smile my way. I winked at her and she erupted with laughter. The two of us laughed together, far removed from the drama cooking up in that gathering. We were in our own world and I was so glad.

Eman huffed while the aunts and uncles behind her whistled and hollered with content. And then, she was gone.

Jannah leaned into me and sighed. "How many Parihans am I going to have to deal with?" She asked me jokingly. I kissed her temple. "Y'know," she started, "If you didn't say what you said just now, I genuinely would've been crushed."

I shrugged. "The world should know how I feel about you." I replied. She blushed and looked down. "Let's get out of here. You're looking way too beautiful tonight."

"And so what?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I want you all to myself, that's what."

Jannah's P.O.V

I slipped out of bed and smiled at the way Dawud's pajama shirt looked on me. The light pouring from the crack in the curtains let me know it was almost noon. I chuckled and pulled my hair up in a bun. After hopping in the shower, I decided to be productive. I wanted to tidy the house a bit and opted on handling our dirty laundry before anything else. I caught Dawud's bright eyes on me as I slipped into my go-to black abaya and hijab. He watched me with a smirk as I picked up the bin. 'I'll be back.' I whispered, before heading out of the apartment. I wore Dawud's sandals. I couldn't stop laughing at the way they made me walk. I felt like a little penguin. I entered the scruffy elevator that lowered me to the basement with a wheeze. There were voices around, which was something I was used to. This was the laundry department for the entire building anyways. I just simply kept my eyes in front of me, pouring our clothes into the washing machine silently.

'Maybe I'm dreaming.' A high-pitched voice slurred next to me. I looked up and blinked a few times, not sure if what I was seeing was real.

The light-brown hair with blonde highlights. The large eyes and slim figure. The hollow cheeks and the thin lips. 'Eman?' I blurted. I don't know what surprised me more - the fact that she was standing in our apartment building or the fact that she was in pajamas in the laundry room. Over-sized pajamas that didn't seem to be hers. 'Eman what are you doing here?' I pressed, looking around. People began to leave, taking both the elevator and the stairs. She blew hair out of her face and sneered.

'I don't know what it is about you.' She blurted abruptly in her British accent.  Her voice was shaky and hoarse and from the way her hands shook, it didn't look like she was in good condition. 'You're not even from our background! You don't speak our language and you sure don't look like us.' Eman spat. I took a deep breath, absorbing her words. What was going on?

I casually chuckled. I was used to Dawud's groupies attacking me, but she was family. I still had to treat her with respect nevertheless. 'Eman, I'm not sure what you're doing here but we can go up to the apartment after I'm done and-'

I was interrupted by her deep and frighteningly aggressive laughter. Peering around, I realized that the laundry room was now occupied by only the two of us. I gulped. The recent feeling of persistent throbbing in my lower belly was replaced by a dense sense of fear. 'I don't need your help.' She replied, revealing her white and sharp teeth.

I turned back to my laundry and continued to dump the clothes in the machine. The atmosphere was sullen and I needed to get out of here. Eman was starting to scare me. As I turned to my left, I realized I had forgotten the soap. Again.

'Jannah, are you out of laundry soap? I can get Rahman to help you with that.' Eman whispered. My eyes shot up upon hearing his name. 'Yeah, that's right.' She relished in my shock. 'After following you two to your apartment, I met him in the stairwell. He saw the state I was in and brought me to his place.' She explained, looking at her nails carelessly. 'The rest was history.'