Architect and Mrs Dantata

15: ZAYD

Is it just me or time isn't moving?

It's 10AM in Stanford and 6PM here. It's been 10AM there and 6PM here for almost forever now. My phones haven't rang. Actually they have, but the calls I've received are not from her. I'm this close to putting my phones on DND with her number as the only exception.

I have no idea if she's sleeping or if she's awake now. What if she's awake? Has she seen my messages? Did I overwhelm her? She's not panicking because of the first messages I sent, right? She didn't have a lot planned out today, right? This is crazy. All of this is crazy. Should I text her again?

"Sa'ed."

I raise my head and face Baba who's standing in the doorway of my room. I left the door open? I closed it when I came in, right?

He gives me a small smile. It's no surprise he knows how much crisis I'm in; how much crisis I will be in until I hear back from Amal and I get everything off my chest. "It's Maghrib time, Zayd. Let's go and pray."

I glance at the wall clock, wanting to tell him time hasn't really moved since. Ladies and gentlemen, it is indeed time for Maghrib and time has actually moved. Would you look at that?

I'm not sure what expression is on my face when I turn back to look at him but it's more than enough to get him to chuckle. He shakes his head. "Come on, Sa'ed. Let's go and pray. In Shaa Allah she'll call or text as soon as we've finished. Your mother and sisters are already making wudhoo."

A part of me wants to stay rooted on this loveseat until she calls but another part – the reasonable part – knows that Allah always comes first, even before her. As much as I'd want to stay here, I can't. With a sigh, I push myself up and pull my feet in the direction of the bathroom. "I'll be out in a few minutes, Baba."

He chuckles again. "Sannu, Sa'ed."

Of course he'll find this funny. I don't even want to know what those women I call my sisters and my lovely mother are thinking. Mama already knocked some sense into me earlier when I panicked while texting Amal and I'm sure she's enjoying this a lot. I'm glad Mas'ood is not here. I would have actually wrung his neck.

It takes a lot of strength to focus on wudhoo and not perform it on muscle memory. By the time I'm out of the bathroom and in the first kaftan I grab from my wardrobe, there's a message waiting for me. It's from Amal. Finally!

Amal: I woke up not too long ago and I have seen every single message of yours, Sa'ed. I've cried too (happy tears! Before you get scared). I want to call but it's time for Maghrib over there so please let me know when you're done praying.

Another message pops up, sent seconds ago.

Amal: Hi, Sa'ed!

Just like every single time she sends a text, there's a smile on my face and actual flutters in my stomach. Every single day, this woman reminds me that I'm an unapologetic goner.

"Sa'ed." Baba walks past my room. "Zo muje."

There goes my chance to reply. I put the phone to sleep and leave it on the table before heading out of the room, my chest way lighter. I walk behind him, still smiling. He tsks as we descend the stairs. I pay that no attention.

Aliyah snickers when we walk into the living room. "I hope you're still not panicking, ya Zayd. We can't pray behind someone who's panicking because of –"

"Aliyah, if you finish that sentence, Faisal will come and visit you in the hospital. It's the nurse that will point you out for him because I'll make you unrecognizable."