A Match Made In Jannah

Chapter 65

4 months later

ZAID'S POV

I tried to manoeuvre my way through the crowd outside the Masjid as I headed to the car with Uncle Husain, Raihaan and my father. It was an impossible task, what with pretty much the entire town rushing forth to congratulate me. The weight of this moment hadn't yet hit me, so I was walking in a bubble of happiness, with no nerves whatsoever.

We finally managed to make our way into the car, and after five minutes of me blushing profusely and avoiding Raihaan's questions, we rounded the corner towards Husna's home.

As we walked into the house, I began a conversation with Uncle Husain about Manchester's recent loss against Liverpool. Aunty Hamida ushered me away from our discussion and told me to head upstairs, to the first room on the right.

I took a deep breath and began ascending the staircase. As I approached the door, I knocked tentatively, and Husna, probably assuming it was her mother, responded with, "Come innnn. The door is open."

I grinned cheekily and walked inside. Her back was turned to me, and she was pulling up the zip to her stunning dress, although without much success.

I walked over to her and pulled up the zip as she spun around. As she turned, my arm gripped her waist, preventing her from falling.

"Oh, Zaid, I didn't think it was you," she said, flabbergasted.

I didn't respond. In that moment, all I could do was stare, mesmerised, at the woman in front of me. Her eyes were a rich, deep brown, with flecks of honey in her pupils. Ringlets of newly curled hair fell over her face and framed her features that were a picture made to capture your attention. Her cheeks bloomed with coral patches, and I grinned as embarrassment washed over her. A flicker of a smile spread across her lips, and I couldn't help but drink the beauty that I saw. She was utterly beautiful.

We were a mere few centimetres apart, and I reached out, for the first time, to tuck my wife's hair behind her ears, and run my fingers along her arms. She stood still, too shy to reciprocate. Suddenly, waiting till I was 27 to get married didn't seem like such a terrible decision. In fact, if I had to wait a thousand more years but would ultimately be given the woman of my dreams, Husna, I would do so. She was my Hoor Al Ayn in this dark, dreary world. She was the light of my life, and the future I so eagerly wished to create.

HUSNA'S POV

"Come innnn," I said, as I heard a knock on the door. It was probably my mother, here to impart words of wisdom. My back was turned to the door as I struggled to pull up the thin zip that ran down my elegant white dress. I felt a hand on my shoulder and released my grip of the zipper. I spun around just as my zip had been closed, only to come face to face with Zaid.

I stammered as I explained the reason as to why I had behaved awkwardly, but saw that my humiliation had been purposeful. His face, glittering with Noor, had a cheeky grin spread across it, and he had a mischievous glint in his eyes. I suppressed an eye roll and puckered my lips to show my disapproval, but could not hide the smile that this amazing man could cause, at any time and place.

I had seen him so many times before, yet this time, it was different. This time, I was his Zawjati. This time, he was my hayati. This time, I could stare as long as I wanted and didn't have to admonish myself to lower my gaze. This time, I could take in his beauty completely. I ran my eyes down from his black turban to his crisp, white Kurta, and then back to his thick, full beard that had been the first thing I fell in love with. He had his hand on my arm, and though I was too shy, initially, to reciprocate, I tentatively reached up and ran my fingers through his beard.

If I could describe Zaid in one word, it would be beautiful. He was beautiful, not just in his looks, though those were a bonus, but in his character, Taqwa and piety. He was beautiful in his personality, his love for others, and his thoughts. He was beautiful in ways I could only thank Allah for blessing me with.

Here I was, after a turbulent tale of hardship, loss, and brokenness, with the man of my dreams and a man of Jannah in front of me. In order to attain Jannah, there are struggles that a person has to live through and endure patiently. I understood now that both Zaid and I had walked on q bridge over hell, and because of our patience, we had been rewarded. This, I knew, was what truly made us a match made in Jannah.

THE END (Epilogues after)