Islamically Ever After

Chapter Thirty Four

• Bismillahirahmanalrahim •

Please if you guys haven't prayed yet make sure you stop reading, pray and return. This story can wait but Allah (swt) only knows that time doesn't.

Enjoy reading and May Allah (swt) grant all those reading this firdous.

Salams,
Your Sister In Islam
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Ihsan's POV
I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't scream, which was a good sign. Considering it was a segregated wedding I was wearing makeup for my husband (I loved saying that), the cameras and a little bit of fun. However I asked her to make sure it was light and rather changing my face construct I just wanted more of a glow and bright look. And thankfully she gave me that...I mean I could recognise myself in the mirror so that was a plus.

Because tonight, when I am Yusuf's wife and I go to his apartment, which he had also bought behind my back, but when I go to his house and I take off my make up I don't want him to be horrified. I want him to love me as I am, without the need of superficial whale fat on my face. Okay that was a bit much but you get what I mean.

Now for the dress...I was so nervous it wasn't even funny. Mama had laid it out on my bed in its packaging so I hadn't seen it yet. I recognised the logo on the back as a friend of Ilham and I, which made sense how they got it so quickly. I opened the zipper but closed my eyes. I could feel a soft chiffon and some lace.

I opened my eyes and gasped. It was completely not what I had in mind...but absolutely beautiful. The dress had a heart cut up the top which was draped over with lace that became sleeves and ended just below my waist. Basically the whole upper part of the dress was intricate lace that was wound, yet dusted between these patterns where little pearls which shimmered in the sunlight. Moving down, the lace ended below my waist symbolised by a simple sash in chiffon. The rest of the dress was flowing chiffon that trailed to the ground. But the curious thing of all was that the dress wasn't white. Seeing as both the lace and chiffon were see through, the lining of the dress was a soft and delicate pink, harmoniously complementing the white lace and chiffon. It was stunning to say the least and I felt little droplets of tears running down my face, probably ruining my make up but I didn't even care.

Looking down I saw my shoes which were lace flats that had a string of pearls around the ankle with a pare of white stockings to cover my awra (part of a woman's body which cannot be shown to non mahrams - everything except the hands and face). And alongside the shoes was a white scarf that seemed to have a shimmer of pink it in, matching the dress. The scarf also had a string of pearls which I guess I would be embedding into my hijab.

Ya Allah I think I'm going to faint...

Yusuf's POV
"What's wrong son, you seem fidgety?" Baba asked humorously. "Uh...I want to see my wife." I replied frankly. He simply laughed and walked off to a calling uncle.

My wedding was amazing, I had to give it to Ihsan, she did a spectacular job. But this was all nothing without her.

Ihsan's POV
It was time to leave and to be honest, I was so nervous about...tonight.

I hadn't seen Yusuf all day and I guess that just added to my anxiety. It was just after Maghrib and after praying together it was time to go to my new home.

Yusuf was gone to get the car and I was left to say goodbye to my family. First I hugged Ilham so tightly that she protested that I would push out her second child and I laughed and congratulated her on her pregnancy. I then hugged Fatima who just let me rant in her ear about how nervous I was. She soothed me and told me it wouldn't be as bad as I thought because Yusuf cared about me. After that came Amo Rashid and Khalto Amatullah who were so loving and wished me all the best. Baba was next and that's when the waterworks started. His shirt was soaked through by the end of it but he said that it was his pleasure.

Mama was last and probably the hardest. My tears accelerate to a whole new level as I realised I was leaving my mother. The one whom had been there through thick and think for me. I couldn't do this. I couldn't run a household like she did but she hugged me and sternly told me that I could.

At that point Yusuf arrived in a Porsche, my favourite car, which wasn't hired but rather borrowed from a friend which was okay. He proceeded to walk around the car and open my door for me like a true gentlemen.

I thanked him and climbed in, wary of this beautiful dress. He soon followed and we were leaving with a lot of horns being blown, kisses thrown and well wishes sent.

As Yusuf drove along my tears began to fall again, yet this time silently. However, as a tear slid down my face it fell onto the hand of Yusuf which was holding mine.

"Hey hey hey what's wrong Habibti?" And my heart stopped at the term of endearment which only made me cry more for some reason. Not understanding but being understanding, Yusuf simply raised his hands to my cheeks and wiped away my tears with one hand while steering with the other, probably getting foundation on his hand.

Soon we had arrived at the little apartment which was ours. He opened the door for me again and I giggled, my tears drying.

As I walked towards the elevator of the apartment, Yusuf pulled my hand towards the stairs. Was he seriously going to make me go up all those stairs?

However I soon found out he wasn't as he expectedly scooped my up, quite literally bridal style and carried me up seven flights of stairs. As much as I protested I was secretly enjoying this. He made me feel like a queen..

Yusuf's POV
I put her down to open the door to our new apartment. I loved saying 'our' now that we were married but more than 'our' would be 'mine' for she was all mine. Ya Allah, Yusuf you sound like a little kid.

Right foot forward and saying the dua we entered our house and I gave her a tour. Ilham had furnished it and although I knew Ihsan was picky she loved it. But I knew some things would be changed or added soon.

We prayed Isha and the two rakaat Sunnah together. I turned around and said, "Ihsan stand up please" and she nervously obeyed. I finally got a chance to look at her properly, in the dress I had designed. She really took my breathe away, quite literally and I could say was, "You look so beautiful Ihsan. So beautiful" and she blushed like I had never seen her before. She hadn't said much and I didn't push her after Ilham's pep talk that she would be very nervous and that I wouldn't understand how she felt. "So do you" she whispered and I laughed at her innocence.

However the moment was short lived as she went inside the bathroom to remove her make up.

I proceeded to do the same and was soon dressed in light cotton pyjamas. She came out in a soft robe, her hair flowing in curls around her. She was my angel.

My mouth was slightly ajar and so surprisingly Ihsan walked up to me, sat next to me on our bed and closed my mouth. "You'll catch flies" was all she said and I was thrilled by this burst of confidence.

"Yusuf" Ihsan asked.
"Mhm..."
"I have a favour to ask...but I understand if you don't want to..."
"Anything"
"Um...you know tonight...being the first night and all...?"
"yeah...?"
"Instead of doing...anything...can we just p-pray all night?"
"How could I say no Habibti"

And with that our first night consisted of prayers throughout the night symbolising our union as husband and wife Alhamdulilah.