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Salma spent most of the day in her room, fighting the strangest attack of nerves.
She had never imagined her marriage to be like this. To a man she knew little of. On a day that was not months away in which could mentally for the major change. With no mother by her side, or brother to bother and her purpose of the tie having to do more with her family's safety then to start a new phase of life. It overwhelmed her. What she hadn't even properly thought of, was suddenly a reality and she had to come to terms with. This was not what she imagined. In fact she had never imagined her wedding day at all. She was too busy sorting other things in her life. There was little time and thought given to the day she'd have to be paired.
Things took a worse turn when Anne, looking quite green in the face with how terribly sick with worry she was, barged in and bombarded her father with questions. Upon hearing her panicked voice, Salma started feeling nauseous. Scared that she would throw up or blacken out, she sneaked out of the house after sending her father a quick text. She was already scared senseless, she did not need Anne to frighten or confuse her more.
Salma did not trust herself to drive, that's how terribly her limbs had started to shake. She took a seat on the curb outside her house and rested her dizzying head on her knees after calling Sarah. She almost did not hear Sarah honking the horn through her buzzing ears, a few minutes later.
Like the lifesaver that she is, Sarah companied her through the rest of the day. She tried her best to distract her, but every time Salma turned a nasty shade of green, Sarah would give up the pretense.
"Listen, I'm trying my best, but if you ruin my car with your smelly puke, I'm kicking you out, I don't care!"
The eighth time she threatened her, Salma burst out crying. Sarah sighed, exasperated. She was a good listener so long as the listening involved solving problems. She was horrible at dealing with a person who was just miserable, dreading the future or crying over his past.
Feeling terrible, Sarah shut up about her car getting ruined from then onwards.
At night, Salma twisted and turned in her bed, not able to sleep. With no food and no rest, she was sure to look like a Zombie the next day. Hoping Arethas would be scared of the green, dead looking thing that was supposed to be the girl he married, Salma hoped he would run back to wherever he came from at the sight of her.
Her phone beeped with a text at two in the morning, taking her by surprise.
Sarah: Take a warm bath.
It was all she said. This girl has to be some sort of demon to know what other people were up to without even asking them, Salma thought. Sighing, She forced her limp body out of the bed and walked to the bathroom with heavy steps.
The next morning Salma tried to force some toast down her throat, while her father was busy helping the men set up the backyard for the guests. She had managed to get some sleep after the bath but she felt anything but rested. She felt numb and confused. Her empty stomach kept squirming with discomfort making her feel like throwing up just by thinking of what was about to happen.
Much to her relief, Sarah arrived early in the morning. She forced Salma to finish the piece of toast and downed a glass of O.J. before pushing her into the bathroom for a shower. When Salma stepped out into her room, she was surprised to see Anne perched on her bed. The poor woman looked closed to tears.
"Are you alright?" she asked Salma, taking the towel away and fussing over her.
Was she? She didn't know. All she was sure of was that she was a nervous wreck and could not decide if she wanted to sleep, cry, puke or do nothing.
"I guess so." Salma shrugged.
Anne looked at her sympathetically. Her aunt was concerned for her, Salma figured, but she did not want to see someone treat like she was on her death bed. The decision has been made. Unless someone had a better solution, she did not want to hear it. Not able to take the fear that had started clawing at her insides, Salma turned away from her aunt and walked to her closet.
She was not feeling thrilled by the idea of her nikkah but she felt like it was not fair for Arethas to meet a moody, smelly zombie after signing the nikkah papers. Every man dreams of marrying a presentable looking human. Salma figured she might as well look like one.
"Salma," Anne spoke up, "If your father is forcing you –"
"He's not, Anne," Salma quickly defended her father. "He would never. And you know it."
Anne chewed on her lip nervously.
"Listen, I know he said you agreed but we don't even know anything about this boy," Anne began again, "Allah knows what he could turn out to be. I just want you to know you don't have to do this. There's always another way. I'll talk to your dad myself if –"
"Anne, please," Salma interfered again. "Dad's met the guy and I trust him. I've tried to find out about him myself as much as I could. I've decided to go with it after praying isthikhara. It took me a lot of time to come to terms with this proposal. Please. I'm really tired of it all. I don't want to end up getting confused again."
Salma looked at her aunt beseechingly, hoping she would understand where she was coming from. She needed someone to be there for her right now, not make her feel worse.
After what seemed like a long internal battle between looking out for her lovely niece and respecting her choices, Anne managed a nod.
"So you're sure about this?" she asked.
"In all fairness, no," Salma replied honestly, "I don't see myself getting married in another few years but of the choices I have, I feel less uncomfortable with this one."
"Picking the lesser evil?" Anne asked, to which, Salma nodded. Her aunt sighed. "This is madness!"
"Tell me about it," Salma smiled somewhat before turning around to choose a dress.
Her only focus right now was to metaphorically kick Agha Gul where it hurts the most. What her father said was no joke. She did feel extremely insulted being treated like a pawn on a chessboard. She was a living, breathing human being and she wanted to be given the respect to use her brains and make her own decisions.
"If that's what you've chosen then." She heard Anne sniff. "I might as well do what I'm supposed to do."
She was surprised when Anne engulfed her in a hug. Feeling the familiar motherly warmth of her embrace, Salma smiled for the first time that day.
"I pray Allah bestows you with all the love and happiness in the world," Anne smiled, before planting a kiss on her forehead. Her face crumbled again and her eyes welled up, "My little girl is all group up and getting married . . ."
Salma smiled awkwardly, not sure what to say.
"Curly's here right?" Salma asked mischievously, trying to break through unease, "Don't tell me he's already started to straighten his hair for the ceremony?"
Anne smiled sadly. She was careful not to meet Salma's gaze.
"He had already left for Tanta Bay yesterday for a fishing trip," Anne replied. Salma heart sank.
So no one from her family, spare Anne and her father would be there when she ties the knot? Anne felt her heart aching for her niece to see the sadness flash across her eyes.
"I would have stopped him, but he was already gone by the time I found out about the Nikkah when your uncle called to inquire about it," Anne said, "I'm sorry, Sally."
Salma forced a smile and shook her head.
"No, it's alright," she replied. "I'll even the score by skipping his Nikkah someday."
Salma turned to her clothes to hide her disappointment. It had started to hit her strongly how every one seemed to be out of the city when she's dropping the axe on her single life. She just felt like with her family around her, this sudden and awkward Nikkah would feel less weird and more homey.
"Hey, they'll be here soon." Anne smiled, trying to cheer her up. "In just a few hours time, your mum and Asim and Dawood would be here to join you. So." She straightened her shoulders and turned Salma around.
"Let's get you dolled up!"
"What?!"
"It's your Nikkah today," Anne muttered, picking out a fancy monochrome dress, "We gotta transform - I say this'll look good with red stilettos –"
"No way!"
"Salma –"
"Just pick up something decent," she told her aunt as her nerves returned. "Nothing too fancy."
After a number of arguments, where Anne kept choosing the brightest clothes for her and Sarah - who had just walked in from Allah knows where - kept looking at her questioningly and refusing to give her opinion, the three woman decided on a full sleeved violet dress that was long, had the right fit and a nice fall. It was elegant and decent but not dull.
"We should have at least gotten you a new dress," Anne complained.
Salma wasn't bothered. Dressing up was the last of her concerns right now. She changed into the gown while her aunt chose her jewellery. Anne had been searching for a scarf before, but Sarah shot the idea down.
"I'm doing her hair," she announced much to Salma's horror.
"No! You aren't touching my -"
"And she's not wearing a scarf!" she said, Dragging a struggling Salma to the chair.
Salma was scared sick when Sarah grabbed the brush. She did not know if her friend could be trusted with something so complex and intricate as a hairdo. However, her fears of getting her hair pull out of her scalp by brutal force, subsided once Sarah set to work. Surprisingly, the kick-boxing trainer handled her hair rather gently and skillfully, as she pinned, twisted and curled her dark locks, using the cutest white flower pins as accessories that Salma had no clue where they came from.
"You barely have much," Anne observed, going through the mess in her drawers in search of jewelry, "When I was your age, I had three boxes full of all kinds of bracelets, rings and earrings. – Hey, this is really nice. It'll go beautifully with those horrible earrings you picked,"
Salma turned to her aunt to defend her silver bee earrings when heart sank to see the bracelet Anne was holding up. A plain silver band with a pearl hanging from it at one end.
"Actually . . .I can't wear that. That's not mine –"
"Nonsense!" Anne shut her down, "I already regret letting you choose insects for your ears. You're wearing this and I won't tolerate anymore arguments!"
Anne started placing the bracelet around her wrist.
"But, Anne-"
"No buts," Anne said firmly, "Just look at it. You'd think it was made just for you,"
"No, it wasn't-"
"Yes, it was!"
"What in the -"
"Salma, don't move!" Sarah groaned.
Still busy with her hair, Sarah looked over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.
"She's right, you know," her friend said. "Just because you're not exactly excited for this marriage doesn't mean you shouldn't wear something nice."
Salma clenched her jaw feeling the cool metal weighing down on her wrist. She decided to wait for the two to leave before removing it. She was not going to let any memory of Zayn ruin the new phase of her life as he had done with the concept of it.
Salma flat out refused to wear any make up, but in the end gave in to their request to wear some kohl and lip gloss. The next few hours passed by in a blur. One moment Salma was arguing with Anne over applying more eyeliner and the next her father came in, asking her to sign the papers.
"You look beautiful, princess!" He gushed.
The little bit of air in her system was knocked out when he offered her the pen. All kinds of crazy thoughts and doubts started swirling in her mind. She seem to take ages to compose herself enough to sign the end of her life as a single person, but perhaps it was not so long. One minute she was terrified with her head swimming in a haze and the next, the ink shone blue where she had signed her name, accepting Arethas Grace as her husband.
Her father hugged her for longest time, so far as she could remember. Salma thought she heard him sniffle a bit when he kissed her hair before leaving the room. Anne was crying. She hugged her but then hastened after her father to take care of the guests – their neighbours, some people from the masjid and her father's friends, who had arrived an hour earlier.
Sarah just stood by the wall, quietly, not making any snarky comments but not crying either.
Salma herself felt cold and emotionless. She was numbed out. She was sorely missing the people that mattered to her. She wished she would have had at least enough time to invite James and Dean to attend the ceremony. She kept staring at the clock hoping her mum and brother would arrive soon.
Sarah watched her friend sitting stiff like a statue on the edge of the bed. The shock of what just happened was clear on her pale face. She decided to give Salma a minute alone. Being stared at while you're a nervous wreck is never a good feeling. Hoping that she would let some of her emotions out when she was alone, Sarah headed towards the bathroom.
"I need to use the washroom," she muttered, but instead of using Salma's bathroom, she left to go to Asim's room.
Barely had Sarah left the room when Salma's father entered.
"Salma," her father said, "Arethas requested to meet you."
Salma jumped upon hearing the request as if she had only then became aware of her surroundings.
"Is that alright with you, or should I –"
"Uh, sure." Salma nodded, then gulped, her adam's apple going up and down.
Her father looked at her alarmed expression and paused to say something reassuring but not knowing what to say, he gave her a curt nod and left to get his now, son - in - law.
Feeling the cold discomfort coiling around her gut, Salma clasped her trembling hands in her lap, taking deep breaths to calm down. She kept reminding herself that this had to happen one day and that now that it had happened she had to face it like a normal girl would.
As each second ticked by, her anxiety climbed higher. Salma started fidgeting with silver band around her wrist when she realized she had to take that damn thing off. Muttering angrily under breath, she walked towards the trash can in the room to throw it away when she heard the click of the lock behind her. Salma froze.
The cold silver stayed solid between her fingers as Salma heard someone enter and then the door closed behind her.
Arethas.
Salma's breath got caught in her throat.
He was here.
Salma was suddenly overcome by a mix of shyness and nervousness. A heavy silence descended on the two. He was probably feeling awkward with her back turned to him and didn't know what say, Salma figured.
Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Salma let go of the bracelet that she was holding in a death grip, and turned around at a snail's pace. She kept her eyes trained on the floor, not sure what to expect the man she had married to look like.
Blonde with brown eyes, her father had said. Keeping the face she had been painting as Arethas's in her mind, Salma raised her eyes to see how closely the real Arethas resembled her imagination.
Her lips parted in surprise the moment her eyes locked on his. Her heart stopped as she took in his bleached hair pulled into a perfect quiff, his brown eyes specked with gold, his chiseled face littered with a beard and that perfectly straight nose that she had dreamt of breaking so many times in her moments of pure rage and resentment.
Shaking her head in denial, Salma tried to force her suddenly stiff legs away from the monster who had assaulted her.
"Bee, please . . ."
He took a step towards her.
She did not marry him. No. This is not who she married.
With her eyes welling up with panicked tears and her breath coming out in broken puffs, Salma started backing away.
"Please, let me explain," He pleaded.
She did not marry her assailant.
No. That is not possible!
She married Arethas Grace, the boy her father met. She didn't -
Not Zayn Harris!
Author's Note:
Oh yeah! That how Arethas rules x'D.
I know, you lot are confused, but let the story explain itself. It'll be explained :)
Aaand chapter 98: "Played?" is up on Patreon where he does just that! And so is the rest of the chapters till the end of the book! Become a patron to read in one go! 😁
P.S updates here might get a bit delayed. I'm getting my hands full and I also have to straighten some things in the sequel that I plan on posting on Patreon in November 😉
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Lots of Love.
J.