“But they plan, and Allah plans, and Allah is the best of planners.”
The first chapter, and I’m eager to share it with you all.
Inaya’s POV:
I kept my eyes closed as the beautician worked, layering creams and powders over my skin. Four hours I’d sat, enduring manicures, pedicures, and torturous hair arrangements. Now, a cool paste was applied to my face. Relief felt distant.
I tried to scratch under my eye, but a hand slapped mine away. “Your makeup will be ruined,” Dania scolded from beside me. “How much longer?” I whined. “Almost done,” the beautician replied, and I relaxed slightly.
Half an hour later, the torture ended. I exhaled, grateful. “You’re the first bride who’s so impatient,” Dania stated, helping me with the jewellery. “I’ll ask you when *you* go through the same ordeal.” Dania chuckled, shaking her head. “Unlike you, I’l be a patient bride.” She stepped back, examining me with satisfaction.
“Uh huh.” I rolled my eyes, sarcasm laced in my voice.
“Can I look already?”
“Just a second.” She fixed the veil on my head, then turned my chair towards the mirror.
A gasp escaped my lips. The plain girl in pyjamas was gone, replaced by a mature, beautiful woman staring back. My dark hair was pulled into an elegant updo, tendrils framing my face. My skin looked flawless, cheeks flushed with a natural-looking pink.
My brown eyes seemed larger, lined with kohl and eyeliner. A blend of rose gold and red shimmered on my lids, enhancing their depth. And my lips, fuller, tinted a rich red. “Wow.” I stared, awestruck.
“I know, right? Can you believe it? You actually look beautiful.” Dania laughed, earning a glare. “I’m joking, but you really do.” Her eyes glistened, and mine followed suit. “Hell no, I’m not letting you ruin your makeup.” I pulled her into a hug, which she returned eagerly. “Who said I was going to?” I sniffed, hearing her chuckle against my shoulder.
Dania and I had been best friends since infancy. Our mothers had us two months apart, making me the elder by two months. Our fathers had been college friends, and best friends since school.
Dania was stunning, with hazel eyes and light brown hair. We were near the same height, but she was a few inches taller. I stood at 5’2”, while she reached 5’4”.
We pulled apart, and she carefully blotted my eyes. “Make sure to keep calling me husband, or I’ll walk straight to your house and strangle you.” She croaked, and I smiled. The door opened, and we turned to my mother and sister entering.
My mother’s eyes welled up at the sight of me, and I felt my own tears prick. “Masha Allah.” She whispered, embracing me. “Can we please stop with all this crying? It’s making me emotional.” My sister, Kanwal, spoke, making me chuckle.
Kanwal was always practical, denying her sadness, but I knew she’d miss me deeply. She resembled our father more than our mother, with long, jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. Though only 21, she was already taller than me.
We’d always been close, sharing everything.
I opened my arms for Kanwal, and she embraced me. “Just because you’re leaving.” She muttered into my shoulder, and I shook my head. I would miss this so much. My mother left after a while, leaving me with Kanwal and Dania. “Ahsan is going to fall head over heels looking at you.” Kanwal smirked, and I glared.
“She’s blushing.” Dania added, and I wished for the ground to swallow me whole. “If she’s blushing now, what do you think will happen when…” Before Kanwal could continue, I placed my hand over my ear. “Besharamon.” (Shameless people) I gave them both a deadly glare.
“Oh come on, Inaya, it’s not like it’s not going to happen.” Dania retorted, sitting down across from me. I grabbed a brush, ready to throw it when she raised her hands in surrender. “Bad Inaya! You shouldn’t be so violent, especially on your wedding day. What will your husband think?” Amusement danced in her eyes, and without thought, I threw the brush.
She gasped, ducking as it whizzed past her. “I can’t believe you actually threw it!” She stood up. I shrugged in response. “I’m surprised at how she’s even able to move in that thing.” Kanwal eyed my dress.
The dress was heavy, but I loved every detail. It felt like a princess from a fairytale, a blend of rose gold and golden embroidery. The veil was a light red, embroidered at the corners.
“How much more time do you think they’ll take to arrive?” Dania wondered aloud, echoing my thoughts. The groom and his family were supposed to be here half an hour ago. Nervousness pooled in my stomach, a bad feeling rising. Something was wrong, and I feared it was what I dreaded. No, Inaya, don’t think like that.
Maybe they were stuck in traffic. “Inaya, are you okay?” Kanwal asked, moving closer. I nodded reluctantly. “They’re probably late. You know how long Ahsan bhai takes to get ready.” She didn’t believe her own words.
A moment later, a knock echoed at the door. My parents entered.
The smile vanished from my face. My father’s eyes held anger, his forehead creased in worry. My mother looked as if she’d been crying. “Ammi, Abbu, what’s wrong?” I stood up, struggling with the dress. My father placed his hand on my head, whispering two words.
“I’m sorry.”
And that’s when my world came crashing down.
Inaya’s look:
Dania’s look:
Kanwal’s look: