'Ding, ding.'
The front door opened, and I hurried over to greet him properly.
He was in the middle of taking off his shoes when he noticed me.
"A-Assalamu alaikum..."
He paused for a brief moment before quietly returning my greeting with a slight nod.
"Wa alaikumussalam."
I took a deep breath, clutching the pink fabric of my dress.
"Please freshen up. Dinner is ready."
He gave another silent nod before walking past me without sparing me a glance.
The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air- a subtle blend of sea salt and something refreshingly clean.
I fidgeted with my fingers as I waited at the dining table.
Was it alright for me to eat with him?
The thought alone felt suffocating.
Still, I had to get used to it.
Would he even like my cooking?
An endless stream of thoughts flooded my mind, and with every passing second, my nervousness only grew.
At last, his bedroom door opened.
He walked over and quietly took his seat without looking up.
He had changed into a black T-shirt, and his damp hair suggested he had just showered. A clean, soapy fragrance accompanied him, filling the room.
Without a word, he served himself and began eating.
There wasn't a single complaint.
Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
I had to say something before the silence swallowed us once again.
Slowly swallowing my nerves, I clenched my fists beneath the table before forcing the words out.
"T-thank you... for making breakfast."
His brows twitched ever so slightly. His eyes remained fixed on his plate as he responded with nothing more than another quiet nod.
That was all.
Once again, I found myself unable to understand what was going through his mind.
Even so, my gaze wandered back to him.
I chewed quietly, careful not to make a sound.
Neither of us spoke.
He ate with remarkable neatness, following the Sunnah with admirable manners.
Without realizing it, I began mimicking him.
His sharp jaw shifted with every bite while his free hand rested calmly on the table.
Despite sitting across from one another...
It still felt as though we were worlds apart.
An invisible wall stood firmly between us.
Out of nowhere, his deep voice broke the silence.
"My parents want us to visit tomorrow, if that's alright with you."
For the first time since he came home, our eyes met.
I froze.
Trying my best to hide my timidness, I answered as calmly as I could.
"Tomorrow?"
"My mother wants to introduce you to some relatives."
His gaze dropped back to his plate.
"Alright... I'll be ready."
He gave two small nods.
After finishing his meal, he quietly gathered his dishes, washed them, and returned to his room.
He had eaten everything I served him.
A gentle warmth spread through my chest.
Maybe...
He had liked my cooking after all.
I kept glancing back at his door.
It was a mystery.
Considering his personality, there should be a shelf filled with books inside.
A person's choice of books could reveal so much about them. Their interests, their thoughts, even pieces of their heart.
Of course, entering without his permission would be wrong.
But my curiosity only continued to grow.
If I was going to spend the rest of my life with him...
I should at least try to understand him.
Maybe we would discover the smallest similarity between us.
I could only hope.
I submitted the last set of assignments just before the deadline.
"Ugh..."
I collapsed onto the bed, and every event from today replayed in my mind.
"He... is huge."
The man stood at 6'1, while I was only 5'3.
The difference was almost embarrassing.
I sat up with a tired sigh and began brushing my hair.
Grabbing the ends, I noticed they barely reached past my shoulders.
"It grew longer again..."
I sighed.
"I need to cut it soon."
I played with the strands of my dark hair, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
My fingers tightened around my hair.
"He still hasn't seen me like this."
The thought alone made my heart race.
This was nerve-wracking.
I picked up my phone and began texting.
Ariya: He still hasn't seen my hair.
Naima: Wow, you're wearing hijab in front of him.
Ariya: I tried not to, but this is killing me.
Naima: Just get it over with before you lose whatever motivation you have left.
Ariya: Never mind that. Has Ireen returned?
Naima: Not yet. She really is sad about missing your wedding.
I placed my phone beside me and fell back onto the bed.
Slowly, my eyelids grew heavier.
Tomorrow, I would have to meet his parents.
I couldn't appear weak in front of all those relatives.
My family's pride depended on me.
Just for tomorrow, Ariya...
Put on your brave face.
And with Allah's help, somehow...
Everything will be alright.