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*

Hania

"Ma Sha Allah, kitni glow kar rahi hai hamari pyari si gudiya." Phupho kissed my forehead.

*"Ma Sha Allah, our lovely doll is glowing so much." 

"Ah, the glow." Zoya Mumani smiled. "I remember it very well. My mother-in-law always used to tease me about it. "

While Hamza stood at the back of the hall with Faiz Bhai and his friends, I sat at a table with Mama, Phupho and both Mumanis, during my Valima celebrations.

I blushed, staring down at my moun-dikhai, which was now adorning my wrist.

"Is that a new charm bracelet?" Mama gently lifted up my wrist and looked at it. "It's so beautiful, Ma Sha Allah."

"Hamza gave this to me." I smiled.

"Aww, Hamza really knows how to win our Hani's heart." Phupho said. 

"So, Hani is officially a part of the Wives' Club." Zoya Mumani grinned. "And clearly with a hubby who really knows her taste. Ma Sha Allah!" 

"He thought I shouldn't wear this today, in case people criticised the fact that my moun-dikhai seems too 'childish', his words not mine." I said. "I told him that people can say whatever they want to say. I love it, and that's all that matters." 

"It's a beautiful present, Hania." Mama said. "But more importantly, your husband gave you exactly what you would like because he loves you so much." 

"Learn an important thing from us all, Hania." Nazia Mumai said. "Don't listen to what people say. Do what you feel is right, what makes you happy. We should not change our behaviour or ourselves because of what society says, unless this change is good for us." 

"Appi!" Iman appeared out of nowhere. "Come! I asked the photographer to do a sisters' photo." She grabbed my hand and pulled me up, before dragging me to the stage. 

Mani and I had a few photos done together, before it was time for dinner. 

Hamza and Daniyal Uncle brought Papa and Mama to the stage to eat with me and Hamza. Yesterday, Uncle and Rabia had ate with us, because yesterday's function had been hosted by my parents. But the Valima was hosted by Hamza's side, and so they were seriously ensuring that my side of the family was being properly cared for.

"Hamza, you will be coming with Hania tonight, right?" Papa asked him.

As per tradition, I was going to stay for one night at my parents' house, and Hamza was coming with me.

"I told you, Uncle, I will annoy you so much that you won't want me around anymore. So yes, I'll be there." Hamza joked.

"Mina, maine kaha tha na Hamza ko invite na karo?" Papa smiled at my mother.

*"Mina, didn't I tell you not to invite Hamza?" 

"Kya karain? Beti ke ghar ka mamla hai." Mama joined in on pulling Hamza's leg.

*"What can we do? It's a matter of our daughter's home." 

"Yeh hai aaj kal damad ki izzat." Hamza smiled. "Aap log khayaain, aur main mehmanon ko jaake dekhta hoon." 

*"This is the son-in-law's respect these days."
"You all eat, I will go and see to the guests."

"Hamza, you sit." Uncle told him, almost in a scolding manner. "You're hurt. I'll take care of it." He walked off before Hamza could argue. 

I smirked at him. "Ha Ha! You got in trouble." I wrinkled my nose at him. 

"Hania, don't make fun of your husband." Mama told me off, as she sat down on my other side.

"Ha ha! So did you!" Hamza winked at me.

"Did we get nursery school kids married or something?" Papa, who was sitting on Hamza's other side, shook his head.

****

Hamza

Hania tied up her hair in a ponytail, looking like a vision in her purple silk floor-lengthrobe that she wore over her matching silk night suit, which I was yet to see. "I was thinking of taking this opportunity to ask Mani about Kashif Mirza tonight. I doubt that she has told our parents yet." 

"Yeah, I think you should, before she takes a wrong step." 

Hania grabbed the box of cream the Fawad Uncle had picked up himself from the twenty-four hours supermarket. She studied the box carefully.

"You know a doctor bought that?" I teased her. "And not just any doctor, but your Papa. Don't you trust him?"

She blushed. "Of course I trust him." She looked up at me. "Come on. Get in bed. I'll rub it on you and then go downstairs to spend time with Mama and Iman."

We were at her Dado's house with my in-laws after the Valima. I thought I'd be uncomfortable, but I really wasn't. Everyone, including Hania's grandmother, made me feel at home. And when Fariha Phupho was here earlier, I felt good amongst everyone. Maybe I'd always craved a full, loving family. As much as I adored Dad and Rabia, I strongly believed in the idea of 'the more, the merrier'.

I took my shirt off and got into bed. Hania sat on her knees, squirted out some cream onto her palm and began rubbing it over the bruise on my waist. I stared at her, watching her concentrate as she gently and carefully rubbed the cream all over. She had showered, and her make-up was all washed off, but I saw a tiny bit of shimmer left on her eyelid from the eyeshadow she had used earlier. I focused on every little detail of that beautiful face of hers. Her soft lips were pursed as she focused on the task like she was performing surgery. Her big brown eyes briefly met mine as she realised that I was staring at her, before turning back to rubbing the cream, but her cheeks turned pink under my intense gaze. "Hamza?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you find out about this Kashif Mirza guy?" She looked at me, seeming worried. "I think Iman told me that he was twenty-three, but he looked much older, and I'm worried about her."

I rubbed a hand up and down her upper arm. "Now that you've told me, you can stop worrying. Leave it all to me." I sat up as she finished, unable to take my eyes off her. "Were you always this beautiful?"

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. I smiled, putting a hand on one of those ever-blushing cheeks of hers. I leaned closer, but she moved away.

"My hands are covered with cream." She held up her hands.

"What I intend to do does not require your hands." With a low chuckle, I but my other hand on her other cheek and then kissed her deeply. My wife, my Hania.

"I have to go. Mama and Iman are downstairs, waiting for me." She pulled back.

"I mean, we literally just got married last night..." I shrugged. "They can understand."

"Allah! Hamza!" She shook her head. She jumped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom to wash up. When she returned, I winked at her and gave her a small smile. She returned the smile, shyly, and for a while we remained there, staring at each other and exchanging fond smiles.

"I have to go." She whispered, softly.

I got up and walked over to her, forcing her to back up until her back was pressed against the wall. She stared up at me, wide eyed. She closed her eyes as I kissed her forehead, clasping her hands tightly. "I'm letting you go today, out of respect for your family." He pressed his lips against the side of my head. 

"Because you're such a good boy..." She stood on her tiptoes and leaned up to very softly place a kiss on my lips. 

The kiss created so much strong desire inside me that I deepened it, pressing her harder against the door. 

****

Hania

This wasn't just my charming and funny Hamza in front of me. It was my handsome and very s*xy husband. I blushed, even as I just thought those words. I allowed my eyes to freely run over his bare biceps, his hard chest, and his stomach. I couldn't breathe as I took in this sight before me, and I couldn't believe that he was my husband.

He brushed a kiss on each of my cheeks, and then gently nibbled at my earlobe, as his hand started to untie the knot of my robe. I gasped as the robe fell open, revealing my outfit. I was wearing silk shorts and a cropped, low-neck camisole, both items matching the colour of the robe. I wasn't particularly comfortable exposing myself so much, despite our intimacy last night, but I wanted to do this for him. I knew (and hoped) that he wouldn't forcefully make me wear something that I didn't want to wear, but this was completely my own choice.

But now I was regretting wearing it in my parents' home. I'd never even wore sleeveless without wearing something over it to cover my arms, and here I was, exposing my stomach and wearing such a low neck outfit. 

His eyes travelled up and down my body, over my bare legs, my stomach, before he reached forward and tied the knot of the robe again, covering up my body. "You're not comfortable."

I hadn't realised that I was holding my breath, and my hands were curled in fists. "I'm so sorry, Hamza. By the time I was...exposed last night, it was dark, and under the light I feel..." 

He put his hands on my cheeks. "Don't ever apologise, Han. I don't ever want you to be uncomfortable around me. I'd rather that you wear an astronaut suit and be comfortable, than to wear this and be uncomfortable. A happy Hania means a happy Hamza."

I burst out laughing at the last sentence. "What are you, six? Sounds like a tongue twister."

He chuckled, pressing his forehead against mine. "I love you the way you are. Always remember that, Hania. Just because we're married doesn't mean that you forget who you are. You've already given up so much for me: your family, your surname, your old life. I don't want you to change yourself as well."

"Give me time." I whispered, looking down at my hands. "I will get more comfortable around you. I have to, you're my husband, and we've already done it, so it can't get harder, right?"

"Take your time." He smiled. "Done it. Who's the child now?"

I wrinkled my nose at him, narrowing my eyes.

"Adorable." He kissed the tip of my nose.

I kissed his cheek. "Alhumdulillah, I'm so happy that you came into my life."

"I'm the lucky one, Han." His gaze was soft as it studied me.

There was a point in time where I'd felt like I deserved better than Hamza. And now I felt like I don't want anyone but Hamza. He had messed up, but he had more than made up for it.

How can I even possibly get a person better than one who had repented? 

****

<Hamza: I miss you.>

<Hania: I'm downstairs!>

<Hamza: I'm hungry.>
<Hamza: I'm coming downstairs to grab something. Stay seated, don't you dare get up and don't let Aunty get up either. I'll help myself to something.>

<Hania: I wasn't offering to get up.> I inserted a tongue out emoji, smiling to myself.

Iman was fully focused on the horror film, but Mama looked at me, smiling knowingly. I blushed, curling up on the sofa and resting my head on her lap. I heard Hamza coming down the stairs, and resisted the urge to jump up and help him find something to eat.

"Is that your Papa or Hamza?" Mama wondered out loud.

"Hamza. He's hungry." I replied.

"Allah! Let me go and..."

"Mama, he asked us both to stay seated. He said he'll help himself." I was personally happy that he felt comfortable enough to do that.

"Hania, I feel bad. He won't let me help, you go." Mama said, softly.

"Mama, it's fine! Isn't he a part of this family as well now?"

"He is, but he's still new, so he might need help." Mama gently pulled me up. "Please, for the sake of my sanity, go and help him. Otherwise I'll go."

I grinned as I got up. "And you used to complain about how much Nano treated Papa like royalty."

I headed into the kitchen, where Hamza was looking through the cupboards, now wearing a shirt, fortunately. "Need help?" 

He turned to look at me. "What did I tell you?"

"Well, it was either me or Mama." I approached him. "And if it was Mama, she would have cooked up an entire menu for you, I'm not exaggerating."

"And what will you do for me, sweetheart?" He leaned one hand against the counter, staring at me in amusement.

"Absolutely nothing." I smiled cheekily. "But since Mama's involved, I have to pretend to help you."

Suddenly he looked lost in thoughts, all amusement leaving his face. "When I was a kid, I used to go for hours without eating. I lived with Mum, and she couldn't be bothered, and in those days we didn't live with Nani. Initially I used to tolerate the hunger, but then I realised that if I wasn't going to help myself, nobody would help me."

I was horrified. "That's terrible!"

"It's fine, I learned how to manage myself. I started making my own lunch for school, sometimes just butter on bread, and when I was home, I managed with whatever was available."

"I'm so sorry, Hamza." I slid my arm through his, leaning my head against his bicep.

"It's okay. Whenever I went to visit Papa, he fed me like I was Henry the Eighth or something." He referred to the historic king who was known for not just marrying six times (one after another), but also having grand feasts. "He started noticing my incredible weight loss, and started asking questions, but I kept avoiding them."

"Because I'm a very nice person, as a one-time offer, can I make you something?" I gasped as I recalled something. "We have some frozen kebab."

"We can make kebab sandwiches!" I suggested.

"Great idea. And I'll make coffee and tea for whoever wants some." 

****

Papa and Dado were asleep already, and Mama was hesitating to join us, but Hamza insisted.

"Aunty, you're the closest to a maternal figure that I'd ever had in my life, apart from Nani. I insist that you stop all this formality." Hamza smiled at her. "We're all family now, and unless you guys don't consider me family, please relax."

"Don't be silly. Of course I consider you family." Mama smiled.

We had kebab sandwiches and hot drinks, and I had honestly never felt happier in my life. 

"Hamza," Mama hesitated. "Look, I'm not going to pry into your personal family matters, but you're always welcome in our home to talk to us if needed. I know it's easier said than done, but Hania's family is now your family, so never hesitate in coming to us, okay?"

The smile on my husband's face was genuine and emotional. "I really appreciate that, Aunty. And you're going to regret that offer, because I'll end up coming over every day, with or without Hania."

"Hey!" I mock glared at him.

"And this goes for you as well, Aunty." Hamza said. "Please consider me your son, and don't hesitate to ask me if you need my help in any way."

Mama looked genuinely happy, and it warmed my heart.

Quick and easy way to win Hania's heart? Win over her family. And that's exactly what Hamza Daniyal had done.

****

It was harder to say goodbye to my family this time. On rukhsati day, I still had Valima and this night with my family to look forward to, but now? Now it felt like my actual rukhsati.

"What did I tell you? We'll visit them whenever you want." Hamza told me as we drove away.

I couldn't stop the tears though, even though I felt silly.

"Fine. If you're going to cry, I won't give you your surprise." He sighed, dramatically.

"What surprise?" I turned to face him, all tears forgotten.

He chuckled, glancing at me from behind his sunglasses. "We are going home, and we're going to pack up. We're leaving Pakistan tonight." 

"Already? Why?"

"Because I'm on a tight schedule, and we need to make a stop." He grinned.

"A stop? In Dubai?" I was confused.

"Have patience, my love. But you'll love it, trust me." He turned up the volume of the music to stop me from asking anymore questions. God, he knew me so well. I would definitely not have shut up if he hadn't turned it up. 

****

"Please find out everything you can about Kashif Mirza." I entered our bedroom later that day and Hamza was speaking to someone on the phone. He paced the room as he spoke, unaware of my presence. "You don't understand, this is urgent. It's important that we find out everything about this guy. And once you found out, tell my Dad because I won't be in Pakistan now. Tell Dad and he'll let me know." He saw me standing in the doorway. "I'll call you back. Hurry, okay?" He hung up and smiled at me. "Rest assured. If I as much as hear one bad thing about Kashif, I'll make sure that he stays as far away from Iman as possible."

"She'll kill me for this." I groaned. "But I'm so worried."

"You're her big sister. You're doing the right thing. I would do the same for Rabia."

"I should just tell Mama and Papa." I said.

"I don't agree. Iman said she would, and you need to give her a chance to keep her word." He walked up to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm just doing background research in the meantime. But your parents will be informed, one way or another, don't worry. Iman is their responsibility and they have a right to know." 

"Thank you, Hamza." I smiled.

"You know?" He muttered, as he started kissing me down my jawline and towards my neck. "Rabia and Papa went to my Phupho's house. We're home alone, apart from the staff." 

"What are your intentions?" I giggled, grabbing him by the lapels.

He scooped me up into his arms, groaning lightly due to the bruise. "My intentions with you are too impure to be told to a pure beauty like yourself. I can show you, if you're willing?"

"Hamza, you're hurting yourself!" I protested, even as I couldn't stop laughing.

He walked up to the bed and set me down, leaning over me and pecking my lips. Then laying on the bed, and over me, he deepened the kiss and I wrapped my arms around him and we tangled up together, almost heading in the direction of last night.

"You make me happy, Hamza." I beamed up at him.

"And vice versa, Han." He continued kissing me, and I ran my hands up and down his back, careful not to hurt him on the scars and cuts, until I felt something in the back pocket of his jeans. I pulled it out, feeling very mischievous. 

I broke away from him, and we were both breathing hard as he looked questioningly at me. I help up his wallet, smiling.

"Give it back, you cheeky beauty!" He reached for it, but I rolled over onto my stomach, the wallet underneath me.

"Hania." He growled, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up as I giggled hard. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, trying to take the wallet from me, but I did my best to keep it away from him. I was in tears from laughing so hard.

He was sitting up on his knees, and I shoved him lightly, causing him to lose his balance a little. Using this to my advantage, I jumped off the bed and ran away from him to the other side of the huge room. I opened the wallet, glancing at his driving licence and grinning at the miserable expression on his face on the photo. But then I froze as I saw the photo on the opposite side.

It was me, on our Nikah day- i.e. the day we had a major argument. But this photo was taken by the professional photographer before the ceremony had started, and I actually looked happy in it.

He was approaching me slowly, a small smile on his face. "Nice photo, right?"

"That's me." 

"Is it? I didn't know that!" Chuckling softly, he pulled me into his arms. "For the record, babe, this wallet, everything inside it, and this guy is all yours. Everything that I have belongs to you as well now. I belong to you. You have a right over me, my wallet and my entire life."

"I don't want anything but you." I whispered.

He kissed me with so much intensity that I stumbled back against the wall. "I love you, Hania."

"I love you too, Hamza." 

****

"Madam? Your passport?" The check-in agent snapped at me, making me jump.

I looked around for Hamza, but I think he had received a call regarding information on Kashif Mirza, and he had stepped away to answer it.

I looked at the check-in agent, wide eyed. "Y-Yes. O-One minute." I searched through my bag, my hands shaking. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

****

The night before I first moved to Edinburgh for university, I couldn't find my passport. I had to take it with me, because it was required to make a university student ID, for security purposes. I'd turned my room upside down, searching for it.

About to have a panic attack, I started calling out for Mama. "MAMA!" I rushed to their bedroom and knocked on the door. "Mama! I need you!"

"Yes, Mama, before she hyperventilates!" Iman came up behind me, hearing the fuss. "Or before she curls up in a ball and starts crying."

Mama opened the door, in her dressing robe, smiling. "Hania, how old are you?"

"Mama, I can't find my passport." I said, sadly.

Iman shook her head. "I swear, Mama and Papa can't even have their peaceful couple time without a screaming Hani interrupting them. It's like they're the parents of a newborn again!"

Mama grabbed my hand and walked me to my room, and straight to my handbag. Iman and Papa both followed, and stood in the doorway, looking amused. My mother zipped open the bag and pulled out a purple wallet that contained my passport. She looked at me. "I told you twice that I'm keeping it in here, in your handbag, but you were too busy giggling with Iman to concentrate."

I stood there, eyes lowered and head bowed, like a kid being told off.

"Panicking never helps, meri jaan." She put her hands on my shoulders. "When you're panicking, sometimes you can't see something that's right in front of you."

"How will I manage on my own, Mama?"

"You can, Hani. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for." She kissed my forehead. "And whenever you're panicking, do the breathing exercises that Papa taught you." 

****

I took a few shallow breaths and try to calm myself down before I looked for my passport again, and suddenly I found it, like it had magically appeared.

The check-in agent made a face at me as he practically snatched the passport from my hand. We haven't even checked in yet, and this bad customer service had murdered my excitement.

"Final destination?" He asked to confirm.

"Umm... I'm not sure." I knew that the flight was going to Istanbul, but I didn't know if there was a connecting flight from there, or if we were actually going to Istanbul itself.

"You don't know where you're going?" The agent sneered at me.

"My husband..." I glanced over my shoulder and to my relief, I saw Hamza returning. "Hamza, he wants to know our final destination."

"Istanbul." My husband told him, grinning at me.

Forgetting about the rudeness, I practically squealed in excitement. I loved Istanbul! I'd been there with my family before, but I'd definitely wanted to go again, and going with Hamza would be ten times more exciting.

The check-in agent practically threw the passport and boarding pass back at me.

"What the hell, man?" Hamza glared at him. "Forget customer service, do you not even have basic manners?" 

The check-in agent didn't even look embarrassed.

"Hamza, leave it, please." I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.

"No, he needs to learn how to behave with females!" My husband was fuming. "How dare you behave like this with my wife?"

The manager approached us then. "Is everything okay?"

Hamza explained how the check-in agent had basically thrown my travel documents back at me, and the manager began to profusely apologise, reassuring us that this agent didn't represent the airline's customer service policy, and eventually, the check-in agent apologised to me.

I was shaken up by the whole thing, as I hated confrontations. I was silent as we dropped our bags off and headed towards the immigration passport check and security.

"You okay?" Hamza looked concerned.

I just nodded, as I parted ways from him to join the ladies' security queue. My hand luggage was scanned, I was given a security pat down, and then I reunited with my husband.

"I won't ever let anyone talk to you or behave with you like that." Hamza grabbed my hand as we made our way towards the boarding gate.

"I was scared." I whispered.

"Why? I'm with you, aren't I? As long as I'm with you, you never have to be afraid."

"I was scared for you, Hamza!" I glared at him. "I was worried that you were going to get in trouble, and the police was going to beat you up and..."

He laughed. "You watch too much TV. And besides, I'm from the social media age, and I know my rights. Nobody can mistreat me and get away with it. Plus, we have a senior policeman on our side who would back us up." He winked, referring to Zafar Uncle. Apparently, Hamza had a great conversation with my Mamus and Zafar Uncle at the Valima, just before Mama had taken me to the table with the aunts. He seemed very comfortable with my extended family now.

Suddenly, I spotted a bookshop. "Hamza, I'll be back in a few minutes." Freeing myself, I rushed towards it. I have an addiction, seriously. I always need to visit any bookshop that I come across, and then I always have to buy at least one book.

And because I'm Hania, of course I found a book that I liked, and just as I was reaching into my bag to grab some rupees, someone handed the payment to the shopkeeper and I saw my husband, who gave me a wink.

"Oh, come on! You can't keep on spoiling me!" I protested.

"Is that a challenge?" 

"Hamza."

"Hania."

We had a little stare down, and then I turned away because I really wanted to blink. Chuckling, he grabbed the bag containing the book and turned to leave the shop.

Sighing, I followed him, shaking my head. 

****

I sat back, having a glass of orange juice, and admiring how great my mehendi covered hand looked, wrapped around the fancy glass. I truly looked like a new bride.

I couldn't believe that we were flying to Istanbul. I couldn't wait to explore the city again. It was a beautiful blend of eastern and western culture, and was located partly in Europe and partly in Asia, a fact that I found incredibly awesome. I was looking forward to the dinner cruise with Hamza, over the Bosphorus. 

Hamza was asleep, no surprise. I started watching a Disney film, but I was too excited to concentrate, instead I clicked on the in-flight map to see how much time we had left. What's wrong with me? We haven't even had breakfast yet, and I'm already awaiting our arrival.

Bored, I turned to face Hamza, and lifted up his hand, blowing softly over his knuckles. I rolled my eyes when I didn't receive a reaction from him. I leaned forward and blew on his eyes this time, and this time there was movement, but he still didn't wake up. I then slid my hand under his shirt and tried to tickle his stomach, and frowned when I still got no reaction from my husband. I grabbed a strand of my hair and began to brush it over his eyelids.

"I will not be responsible for my actions if you don't stop, sweetheart." He smiled, his eyes still closed.

"I'm bored. Get up." 

"Come join me." He opened his eyes. "Lie down beside me. We're in business, so we have our privacy."

"I'm not sleeping with you on a plane!" I blurted out, before slapping a hand over my mouth as I realised how dodgy my words sounded. I glanced around to make sure that nobody had heard me. Can I climb up and hide in the overhead luggage compartment and remain there till we land?

Hamza laughed so hard that tears came out of his eyes.

"Shut up." I turned away, facing the window.

He grabbed my arm and I allowed him to pull me down, after he pulled the divider door between himself and the aisle closed. He was right, we had privacy now. I snuggled up against him. "I can't wait to get there."

He kissed my forehead.

"So, is this our honeymoon?" I whispered.

"This is a mini-honeymoon." He replied. "I'll take you to a proper exotic destination when I have more time."

"I should have priority on your time now, Mr Hamza Daniyal." I pouted at him, before kissing the skin above his neckline.

"Of course, sweetheart, and if this work wasn't important, I would have dumped it on someone else." He sighed. "But Dad gets tired pretty easily these days, and I want to help him out a bit more. As you know, he's a heart patient- that's how he met Fawad Uncle in the first place."

"The parent excuse is my weakness." I muttered. "When it comes to parents, it's an acceptable excuse."

"You know, I've rarely seen anyone your age be this close to their parents." 

I smiled. "It's just always been this way. The four of us have always been very close, especially me and Mama." I drew flower patterns on his chest with my finger*, absent-mindedly. "They've repeatedly made it clear that we can talk to them about everything and anything, and we've always found it easy to talk to them, especially me." I fully turned on my side to face him. "But this is so incredible, how our fathers met years ago, and how we ended up together."

*Does this sound familiar? Chocolate for whoever remembers what I'm talking about.

"It's Allah's plan, Han." He kissed my forehead again. "And for that I feel incredibly lucky, that you were written in my destiny."

"Me too, Hamza." The warmth of his body was incredible considering the cool temperature of the cabin. I pulled the blanket over us, and within minutes I had fallen asleep, with Hamza's arm wrapped around me.

Istanbul, here we come, In Sha Allah.

****

Iman

"Kashif, I'm going to tell my parents about you." I spoke into the phone. "I want you to meet them."

"Iman, we're just getting to know each other. It's too early to meet the parents." He sounded bewildered.

"We're not following a western culture." I said. "The only way this is appropriate is if we get our parents involved."

"Iman, I don't think I can meet your parents right now. Not until you and I..."

"There's no you and I anymore without my parents' blessings." I said. "If you can't meet them, then we can't see each other. I'm sorry, Kashif, but I've already messed up too much to continue this." I hung up the phone, tears filling my eyes.

He understood me, and we got along well. 

But I have started to understand how important I was to Mama and Papa, and that I had been misunderstanding them all this time. I was going to do as they said now. 

Now whatever I did was going to be with their approval.

But first, I had to confess to them.

****

How will Hania & Hamza's mini-honeymoon go?

Will Iman confess to her parents, and how will they react?

Thoughts and comments?

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