Yes, it was stupid of me to accept his hand in marriage.
And yes, he still loves her so so much and maybe he always will.
Will I ever be enough for him to love me back?
Can my heart ever make it out alive,
even if I am his UNLOVED WIFE?
*COMPLETE...
Yey! More than 200 reads. Alhamdulillah! Thank you sisters and brothers!
This chapter is dedicated to xsanahx for appreciating this story. ^_____^
9. Her Radiance
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Amir's POV
After praying Isha at the Masjid, my family set foot at Zainab's house. My little siblings were left at the care of Aunty Mona. I could tell that Amah was nervous and kept on looking at me as I drove his car. He and Inah were at the back seat. Inah was excited and I was too. It's crazy but something inside of me felt like jumping and holding Zai in my arms, to make her mine and mine alone.
We reached the familiar big blue house and I parked right in front of it.
"We're here Inah, Amah," I announced.
My Mother carried the box of jewelry and Dad touched his hair and beard, straightening himself up.
Oh Allah, make her accept my hand in marriage. I know everything is already written but please let her be mine.
I pressed the door bell once and heard the door of their living room opened.
"Assalamu alaykum," Ridzmar and I said each other together.
He hugged me and I felt it a sign of hope that maybe things will turn out according to my wishes.
"Come on in, they're waiting," he said.
We all got in and made our way to the familiar living room. It was spacious and clean, the marble tiles were peach and white. An exchange of greetings of peace and introduction took place before we settle ourselves on the couch. I was seated in between my parents while Zai's parents were seated across us. Ridzmar excused himself and went upstairs to call on Zai.
"Thank you so much for welcoming us in such short notice," Inah said.
"Don't mention it Dorothy," Zai's Mom said.
I take it as another good sign for them to call each other on their first name. My heart was already racing and at the same time, I felt a slight of impatience. What's taking her so long to come down?
"We're thinking of having another branch of restaurant near your location," Amah said to Zai's Dad.
"Yes I agree, since foreigners often times go to the post office for their office and personal transactions," Zai's Dad replied positively.
The sound of the door opening made me hold my breath. There she was, my Zai wearing an emerald green convservative long dress, simply embroidered with golden sequins on the sleeves. Her black hijab was well placed all the way down covering her chest. She was not looking at us but simply climbing down the stairs. Everything was turning into slow-mo and she appeared to be radiant and glowing. We all stood up and she went near her Mom.
