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Iman

I collapsed because I had such a high fever.

Fariha Phupho was there, and she saw me. She had immediately rushed to me and had called Omar Bhai, who took us to the hospital in his car.

"Koi pareshani hai aap ko, beta?" The doctor had asked me as she had examined me. 

*"Are you under some stress, dear?" 

What could I tell her? That I was badly homesick, missing my parents and Appi, and was being stalked by a psycho who knew everything about me?

But my Phupho seemed to understand a part of my problem. "This is the first time Iman has been this far away from both her parents. I think she's more homesick than she realises." 

And so, Phupho had called Papa, who had rebooked my tickets, and after the doctor had declared me fit to fly, I flew back home.

****

Hania

I stood by the front dooras a weak looking Iman walked towards me, with Mama's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Iman hugged me and I held her tightly. I could tell that she was very relieved to be back home.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, breathing against her tangled hair.

"Now I am." She whispered back. "But I haven't told Mama and Papa anything about Rayaan, so don't say a word." My eyes widened as I looked at her, but she walked past me and into the house, as Papa brought in her luggage.

"We'll talk once you've eaten something." Mama told Iman.

"There's nothing to talk about, Mama." Iman shrugged. "I wanted to come home."

"Iman, there's no point of even trying to argue." Papa said, firmly. "Physically there's nothing wrong with you, as per your Phupho, so we want to understand the mental cause of your collapse and high fever." 

"Iman, go and freshen up." Mama kissed her cheek. "Meri bachi." 

Iman looked uncertain, but didn't argue further and rushed up the stairs. I followed her immediately.

"You should have told them!" I snapped at her the moment we were in her room. As should have I.

"I'm safely home now. It doesn't matter." She pulled off her denim jacket and tossed it onto the bed, before pulling her hair free from the hair clip. She kicked her trainers off randomly and headed into the bathroom.

"Iman, you need to stop behaving so immaturely!"

"Oh, I don't need a righteous lecture right now, Appi. I haven't slept properly in a while, so I'm exhausted."

"You're such a brat." I shook my head, before leaving the room. She could show attitude with me all she liked, but she was going to have to answer to Papa. It's about time she gets a proper telling off. She needs to grow up.

****

Iman fell asleep, so the 'talk' was put off for a while, but I knew that it was definitely coming. I knew that Papa suspected something fishy, and that's why he was in interrogation mode. Parents just know when something's wrong. I don't know how, but they do.

<Hamza: Can we meet up and discuss things today, Hania? We can meet under your conditions, even in the presence of Uncle, if you want.>

I was startled at his straightforward text, and my cheeks warmed up. My crush seems to be coming back with full force, no matter how hard I tried to stop it.

There was a knock on the door, and Iman stumbled in sleepily. "Make funeral arrangements for me because Papa's going to kill me."

"Should I be sympathetic? You put yourself in this situation, Mani!" 

"Quit judging me, okay? Yes, I was incredibly stupid, but now that I am in trouble, the least you can do is show sympathy." 

"Hamza wants me to meet him today."

Her eyes widened. "On a date?" When I nodded, she grinned. "That's cool! Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere!" I cried. "It's wrong in every sense of the word."

"Even in Pakistan, unmarried couples go out on dates, Appi. As long as you stay within the limits..."

"I'm not a sheep, and I won't follow the herd mentality that just because everyone's doing it, I should do it too." I argued. "Just because a lot of people are doing it, doesn't make it right, Mani." My eyes widened. "Unless..." Grabbing my phone, I ran out of the room and headed down the stairs. "Papa!"

"What's wrong?" He frowned as I raced into the living room, where he was watching a Pakistani news channel.

I blushed as I walked over to sit down beside him. "Can I call Hamza over? We can hang out in the back garden by the gazebo, and maybe have tea together? You're home, so that solves the mehram issue."

"Are you asking me to allow you to have a date?" He raised an eyebrow.

"A supervised date, in a sense, as both you and Mama are home." I couldn't meet his gaze, as this was too embarrassing.

He smiled. "Fine, call him over." 

"Thank you." I casually got up, and left the room. The moment I was out of his sight, I ran up to my room and squealed happily.

<Hania: I have an idea, if you're up for it.>

****

I glanced at the setting in the gazebo. On the round table, I had set up a plate of Mr Kipling Viennese Whirls, there was a bowl of nimko (savoury Pakistani snacks), some chicken mayonnaise sandwiches that Mama had quickly made for me, keema (minced meat) samosas and a box of sugared mini doughnuts from the local supermarket. Hamza was having coffee, while I had tea.

The gazebo itself was gorgeous, with wooden beams that were decorated with fairy lights. There were curtains on each corner of the gazebo that could be pulled back for privacy, and proper sofas and tables were set up inside it for comfort. Mama had supervised the creation of this gazebo when I was around five. It was intended to be a private, romantic space for her and Papa when he was too tired from work to actually go out.

"You went to a lot of trouble." He smiled, also glancing at the snacks.

"Mama did." I blurted out. "Not that it was trouble."

I'd chosen to wear a long red maxi dress with a black shrug over it. My hair was loose, and cascading down my back, and small silver hoop earrings dangled in my ears.

We were within the sight of my parents, who could see us through the glass sliding doors of the living room. It's acceptable within the sight of my mehram. I reassured myself.

"I see that Hamia's here." Hamza grinned as he nodded towards the teddy bear that was resting on an armchair.

I smiled, my cheeks warming up.

"I thought we could go somewhere away from the family though." He said. "As we learnt from the Dubai experience, we get to know each other better when we're on our own."

"I understand, but I don't want to do anything the wrong way." I shrugged. "I know that I'm not the perfect Muslim, not even close, but there are some limits that I would never cross."

He nodded, and I felt that he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind. "Anyway, did I see Iman earlier? I thought she was in Lahore."

"Yeah, she came back earlier today." 

He glanced towards the house, suddenly lost in thoughts.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He turned back to face me. "I really like you, Hania. You're one of the sweetest and kindest people that I've ever met. You're so honest, so genuine and it's very refreshing."

"But...?" There was definitely a but. There was always a 'but', no matter what. I've never dated before, but literally everybody always found flaws in me, usually my awkwardness or shyness.

'Hania, you're nice, but you're just to shy.' A girl who I used to be friends with had once told me before leaving me to join another group.

'Hania, you're sweet, but your awkwardness will be a great setback for you in life.' Another girl I knew had once told me.

'Hania's beautiful, but she's so boring.' I'd once overheard a guy talking about me, where a mixed group of guys and girls seemed to be rating the shyer and awkward people in the class.

"But, if we marry, I don't know if you can expect love or not." He sighed. "I'm not sure that I'm capable of it. I'll try to be a good husband, but I cannot love you."

"Why bother, then? I'm just going to be your wife for your father's sake, but I don't want that." I shook my head.

"Look, Hania, love and romance is just written in stories and films." He tried to sound logical. "But in reality, you just need to trust each other and be compatible to make a marriage work. I think we're compatible, and I definitely trust you."

I grew up with the biggest example of love within marriage, so I completely disagreed with him. But what's the point on saying that in front of a guy who didn't seem to have a romantic bone in his body? "Why would you want to get into a marriage where you can't have love and romance? That's stupid and it makes no sense." 

"I don't know Hania, after seeing my parents, I have difficulty in believing in the concept of love." 

"Well, I believe strongly in love within marriage, after seeing my parents." I shot back. "And I'm sorry, but why are we even discussing marriage right now? How do you expect me to suddenly trust you after you hid the fact that Natalia had feelings for you?" 

"I don't expect you to, but I definitely hope that you will." His gaze on me was soft, his tone gentle. Somewhere, I could smell someone having a barbecue and the delicious aroma made me reach for a samosa. He stood up. "I want to marry you, Hania, and no, not just for Papa's sake. I think we can make good life partners."

"Where are you going?" I frowned.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't realise the time. I need to be somewhere." He smiled at me. "But I hope to hear something positive from you soon." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed out towards the side entrance of the house. 

I grabbed the box of mini doughnuts, crossed my legs underneath myself on the sofa, and started munching my way through the high calorie dessert. I was confused. Maybe if I waited for the Epic True Love, I would have to wait forever. But Hamza was right here in front of me, and he liked me. Maybe he'll fall in love with me?

"Hania?"

I looked towards the house and saw Mama walking towards me, looking concerned.

"You okay?" She stopped beside me and ran a hand over my head.

I was on my third doughnut and I shrugged.

She grinned and grabbed a tissue from the box I'd brought out earlier. Sitting down beside me, she began to wipe my mouth clean with it, like I was a child. "You have sugar all over your mouth." 

"Mama?"

"Hmm?"

"How do we pray the Salat-al-Istikhara?" I asked. "I want to follow Papa's suggestion and I want to perform it as well. I know that you and Papa have done it already, and as parents you are satisfied, but I want to ask my Allah to help me on my own behalf as well." 

"That's true." She looked sheepish. "But your father is the one who helped me, and I think it's best if you learned it from him?" 

"I think I'm going to perform it after Isha, because I'm really confused." I sighed.

"That's a good idea." She nodded. "You can ask Papa, and he'll tell you."

I lay down, resting my head in her lap. "Mama, I wanted love and romance, but it seems like a rare thing now."

"Don't give up hope now, meri jaan." She said. "If you both are to marry, In Sha Allah, Allah will place love for each other in both of your hearts."

"Why can't it all be simple?" I muttered.

"Because, I hate to break it to you, but life isn't simple." She said. "But just have faith that all will work out well for you."

"In Sha Allah." I held up a doughnut. "Want one?"

"How dare you not ask me before?"

We both laughed and chatted for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasted.

****

Hamza

"Hamza."

I was leaving Hania's house and heading to my car when I heard Fawad Uncle call out my name. I turned to face him, having already greeted him when I got here.

He looked serious as he walked over to me. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't know what you're up to, but I'm going to remind you one thing very clearly, that Hania is not a toy. Do not, under any circumstances, mess with her or play with her heart. If there's even a tear shed by Hania because of you, you'll have to deal with me." 

"I have no intention of playing with her, Uncle." I told him, honestly. 

"For some reason, I can't convince myself that you're serious about her. I really hope I'm wrong about it, but a father's instincts are generally correct." He said. "Do not ever hurt her. If we agree to this marriage, you better remain loyal to her, and you better treat her like royalty. We're not the sort of parents who would unnecessarily place you on a pedestal just because you're the Damad. You must earn that position. If our daughter gets hurt or is unhappy, I won't hesitate in confronting you about it, am I clear?" 

"Absolutely." I nodded.

I had no doubt that he meant every word, one hundred percent, and I knew that if I ever messed up with Hania, I would suffer the consequences.

****

Iman

I came downstairs and looked around for Mama first, but didn't see her anywhere. I could hear the TV in the living room, and took a deep breath before making my way over there. 

"Papa?" I stood in the doorway, nervously.

He looked up momentarily, but returned his gaze towards the TV when he realised that it was me. He was still furious with me over my past mistakes and had barely spoken another a word after the confrontation when we had arrived home from the airport. How will he react when he found out about Rayaan?

I had realised something. I'd always accused my parents of overlooking me, whereas I myself had never reached out for them or opened up about my feelings like Appi did. I'm sure if they realise how I really feel, I would have no complaints against them. So now, I made the decision of being as honest as them as I could possibly be. I mean, of course, there were always going to be certain things that I can't tell my parents, but I'll try and tell them the more important things.

"I know you're angry at me, Papa, but I really need to talk to my father right now."

Something in my voice must have concerned him, because he patted the sofa beside him, and I sat down cautiously.

"I really am sorry about my behaviour, especially with Mama." I played with the rings on my fingers. "But, there's something that I really need to talk to you about." 

Something seemed to occur to him, and he frowned. "Was it Saad again? Did he say something to you?" 

"Not Saad." I sat back and started telling him everything, starting with the shopping centre incident to Rayaan's creepy text. I opened up the text and showed it to him.

<This isn't over. It's just about to get worse. -R>

"Papa, he seemed to know literally everything about me, my family and our relatives." I realised that my hand was trembling as I held up my phone. He steadied it, and then wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"You should have told me, Iman." His soft tone made me want to cry my heart out.

"I was scared." I sounded like a small child.

"Don't worry. I'll contact Zafar Uncle, and if Rayaan's still there, they'll stop him." He kissed the top of my head. "Don't worry about anything now, but for the time being, none of you will go anywhere alone, okay?" 

"Okay, Papa." I smiled, relieved. "Thank you."

"Never, ever thank me for looking after you. It's my duty."

I really should have told him earlier. Now I felt like I was light and free of all burdens.

But what if Rayaan hurts Papa? I'll never forgive myself.

****

Hamza

"Natalia." I approached the beautiful blonde girl as she sat at our usual table at our favourite café. She wore skinny jeans, a cream cropped tank top and high-heel sandals that matched the colour of her top. Her long blonde hair seemed golden in the gentle glow of the light above the table.

I'd left Hania's house and headed straight to meet Natalia.

"There you are! I've been waiting for fifteen minutes." Her blue eyes lit up as she saw me.

"I'm sorry, I got held up." I took a seat opposite her.

"How did it go?" She raised an eyebrow. "Did she agree to marry you?"

"Not yet, but she will. She's simple that way." I smiled. "She'll come around, and once I'm married to her, Papa will stop focusing on my life. Thanks for helping me out with this." 

Natalia and I had made this plan when Papa had started pressurising me to marry Hania. Natalia had suggested that I marry her, and if she was as simple and naïve as I'd said that she was, I could easily fool her and live my life the way I wanted, fooling my father in the process again.

A part of me was feeling like a monster for doing this to a naïve, innocent sweetheart like Hania. And, frankly speaking, Uncle's words had shaken me a little, but I didn't want to get married right now and Papa kept forcing me, so I figured that I might as well give in and marry someone he wanted. Hania was the perfectcandidate. She would literally believe anything that I tell her. Ichuckled under my breath.

For some reason, an image popped into my head of Hania holding Hamia, the teddy bear. She was so incredibly adorable that for a moment, just a brief moment, I wondered if it was possible that I would actually fall in love with her after marriage.

"Good, because you deserve better than a nerd like her." She laced her fingers through mine. "You're way out of her league. Girls like her belong with librarians, not hot guys like you." 

****

Hania

"Mama!" I screamed.

We were kids, and Iman was three, and I was five. She was playing in the snow next to my parents, while I stood at a distance, watching them. I tried calling out to them, but they couldn't hear me. A blizzard then started up, acting as a divider that separated me from my family even more.

"Mama!" I was cold, scared and alone. Nobody was there by my side and nobody was going to help me. "Papa! Iman!" 

We were in a park that I recognised, but it was empty apart from us. The blizzard grew worse and worse, and soon, my family disappeared from my sight.

"Help me! Please don't leave me alone!"

"Mama!" 

****

I woke up, crying out. My hair was sticking around my face and neck because of sweat and all I heart was my abnormally loud heartbeat. 

I had been unable to perform Salat-al-Istikhara, as my period had started last night, so I had been unable to pray Isha either. 

Ya Allah, is this a sign? First, I couldn't pray and now this dream?

I groaned, as I felt that annoying pain in my lower belly. Periods suck.

Once I had cleaned up, I headed downstairs to make some hot chocolate. It was the middle of the night, but it was the only way I felt better during this time.

I stayed downstairs in the living room, drinking my hot chocolate, and then just thinking things until the sun rose. The bright rays began to pour in, pushing away the darkness and even the doubts inside me. 

There were a lot of things in my favour right now: my parents supported me, there was no rush for me to make a decision, and, until the Nikah was complete, I was not bound to do anything. With Hamza ready to marry me, the entire decision now rested on me. Ya Allah, no matter what happens in my life, may it be for my own good. I have faith that you'll never let anything bad or unfair happen with me.

****

Hamza

Life tends to kick your a** in the most unexpected ways possible. I've always heard of Makafat-e-Amal, which basically means karma, but I've always laughed it off. But it's true, the way you treat others always come back to you. Always. You might think that you've gotten away, but as Muslims we should know better. I'd planned on cheating a naïve and innocent girl, and basically ruining her life, but life slapped me in the face to remind me how badly I had f**ked up.

The day after my meetings with Hania and Natalia, I arrived home to find Papa sitting in the living room, looking worried.

"Assalam Alaikum, Papa." I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Everything seems to be wrong." He looked up at me. "Rabia's engagement has been called off."

Rabia had been engaged to the son of a family friend of my Phupho, and she had been happy because the couple both really liked each other. We had just been waiting for Rabia to complete her education before we got her married, as she was still relatively young.

"What? Why?!" I sat down on the armchair, shocked.

"They said that they've found someone else for their son." Papa sighed. "But your Phupho said that they discreetly mentioned that Rabia was too simple for their lifestyle. You know the luxurious lifestyle the rich live in Pakistan? They don't think Rabia would fit in because of her simplicity. While I don't know how to tell Rabia that, I'm glad that Allah saved her from such a guy and family. Imagine our Rabia getting married to him and being mistreated for the way she was." 

I felt sick to the stomach.

"May Allah protect all our daughters, the way He has protected Rabia." He shook his head.

I thought of Hania's sweet smile, her innocent wide eyes, her caring and trusting nature. I thought about how I was close to breaking that beautiful heart, and then I shuddered at the thought of the wrath of Allah for hurting such a sweet soul. The way Rabia's like a daughter to Papa and a sister to me, Hania is someone's daughter and sister as well. What the f**k had I almost done to her?

My Allah had reminded me that the way we treat others might come back to us in similar ways. I'd almost ruined Hania's life by marrying her, and now my own sister's happy engagement had ended. It wasn't a coincidence, but a wake-up call from the Lord of the Worlds, for me to wake up and straighten myself out.

I was shaking, and I realised how sometimes some events make us realise the error of our ways. 

I'm so sorry, Hania. I will spend my entire life fulfilling those promises that I made to you. You don't deserve to be treated the way that I had planned on treating you.

****

Rabia remained calm in front of me and Papa, but I later found her in the garden, sobbing quietly.

"Rabia?" I walked over to her, feeling awful.

She whirled around to face me. "How does it feel now, Bhai? When my simplicity ended my engagement, does it feel bad?" 

"Rabi, what are you saying? Of course I feel bad." I reached out to place my hand on her shoulder, but she backed away.

"Guys like you treat girls like dolls, like we have no feelings or emotions!" She snapped, furiously. "You made Hania cry by saying all those harsh things about her at the café! And now I basically got rejected for the same qualities. See how it feels to get a taste of your own medicine? Why does it take your own loved ones getting hurt for jerks like you to realise how horrible the feeling is?!"

"Rabi, I'm sorry." 

"Hania deserves better. If she marries you, it would be like her punishment in this world for any sins that she has committed." Rabia glared at me before running towards the house.

I was left in shock at my own cousin-sister's harshness.

Am I really that bad that Rabi is calling me a punishment for sins?

****

Hania

"Papa, Mama, can I ask you both something?" I looked at my parents, nervously.

"Sure, jaan." Mama looked at me from the opposite side of the dining table as we had breakfast.

Papa was just about to return to work, and Mama had prepared practically a feast for us all, in order to get him to eat.

"If anything goes wrong in my life after marriage, can I rely on you both to have my back?" I had been terrified, thinking about that.

Iman almost choked on her usual pancakes, and then gulped down some coffee. My parents exchanged a worried look.

"Of course, beta." Papa said. "Marriage doesn't mean that we don't care about you at all."

"But may Allah never let anything wrong happen to you anyway." Mama added. "Either of you."

"Thank God, I'm included." Iman teased.

"As long as we're alive, you have nothing to worry about, Hania." Papa reassured me. "I saw how my parents supported your Phupho after her first marriage didn't work out, and if, God forbid, anything is to happen in either of your lives, we'll always have your back, unless it's genuinely your own fault." 

"Are you, as my parents, satisfied with the idea of me marrying Hamza?"

"As per the Istikhara, I am convinced that if Allah has planned this for you, it's for the best." Papa shook his head. "But I'm not going to rush into things, because even though Allah supports us, He has also given us common sense."

"Well, whenever you decide, just know, that I'm ready. I want to marry Hamza." I announced my decision.

****

Will Hamza and Hania's marriage take place?

Has Hamza changed, or is he even capable of change? Do you trust him? 

I know that some of you that he can't change instantly, but I have the belief that if Allah gives Hidayat (guidance), a person can change in an instance. Does that mean Hamza has been shocked into coming onto the right path?

Do you think that Hania deserves better?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote.