Dina

June 28th. Since it was officially summer, Amity and I had moved back home. But a week before today, she drove back to Austin with me and my family. We all stayed in hotels. Yesterday most of the guests from my side arrived (all of his guests already lived in this city) in time for the Henna party. The Henna party is one for the bride only, the groom only visits it for a few minutes to greet some guests and his future in laws. The party was all women, what happened in it was simple: the decoration of the bride. My mom hired a woman to draw Henna Tattoos on my hands and feet. I, being the sentimental girl I am, let my best friend and mother both do a little design on each hand. Amity took my left hand where the ring will be she said, and drew an almost perfect smiley face. My mother drew a small heart on my wrist and said nothing, she was holding herself from crying the entire night.

June 28th. I woke up with no remembrance that I'd be married by the end of the day, that is, until Amity chucked a heavy feathered pillow at me. "Holy guacamole you're getting married!" She yelled, then my best friend jumped onto the bed and hugged me. The embrace lasted for longer than I expected, and when she finally let go, there was a track of tears under each eye. "I know I'm being over dramatic right now," she sniffed, "but like... I remember when we were fourteen and we talked about the perfect guy. You always thought you'd get some man your parents chose for you, someone you had nothing in common with, and you'd have to learn to love him. You thought you'd have to settle, and move back to Egypt. But wow, Dina the exact opposite happened. You're marrying a doctor, a good Muslim American! Who loves you, and I know you haven't said the exact words to each other, but I see it in your eyes. You haven't even held hands that many times and there's love in the way you look at each other."

She sniffled and continued on, "you defy all stereotypes Dina Ramadan. A Muslim woman who lived on her own for the first two years of her college life. Who's marrying a man of different culture, a convert. A woman so gentle she's strong." Amity smiled, "you're my best friend. Through my eyes you're the best person in the entire world. I love you, and I feel like I'll love you more than he ever will but we're not having this discussion now." By now we were both crying, but that made me laugh. "This is both tearing me apart and making me the happiest and proudest person on earth. You are my number one, but from now on, I'm you're number two. I love you a lot okay? Congratulations! I'm really happy for you I swear I'm just selfish and I want to make this about me."

We both reached for the tissues and laughed while we cried. "I hate you so much," I joked. I believed her, there is probably no one happier for me than my best friend. But we've been inseparable since we were fourteen, so this is hurting me as much as it's hurting her. "I'm not going to stop being your best friend, and you'll always be mine okay?" She nodded, sniffling and sobbing. "I love you so much and I can't wait until you meet someone worthy enough of you."

I pulled her into another hug, and the two of us cried for what felt like hours. Then she pushed me off, "oh stop crying!" Amity yelled, her eyes wet but no longer letting out tears, "this is a happy day you goof! Now let's go get some really unhealthy breakfast for the not-last-time!"

Just like that the mood changed.I prayed, then texted my parents that Amity and I were going to IHop so they don't worry when they see our room empty, texted Farouz saying good morning, threw on a long sleeved shirt, some jeans, wrapped my hijab and ran out the door. Thankfully the restaurant wasn't too far and we were able to walk there. Like usual, I ordered a waffle, she ordered french toast and we shared. Talking about our plans for the next school year and who she was going to room with now that I won't be there.

"I'm thinking of rooming with Lucy, she's sweet, and we're both majoring in history so it should work out pretty well," Amity talked through a mouthful of waffle. Honestly, how can someone so pretty and petite eat like that?

Pouring her some coffee in attempt to bring her attention to how gross her actions were, I said, "Lucy is so sweet! I think that's a great idea, her previous roommate is kind of a pain."

Amity took the hint, and swallowed her food before saying, "maybe I'll talk to her tonight, at your wedding while you're dancing with prince charming." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I almost choked on my tea, "the day we start calling him prince charming is the day..." I shook my head, "no, just don't ever call him that again!" My best friend fell into a fit of laughter, "I'm being serious!" I pointed at her, but my smile was clearly making it hard to take me seriously, "stop it right now!" I snapped, then started laughing with her.

My phone buzzed on the table, Amity looked at the ID and said, "ooh Prince Charming!"

"Shut up!" I threw a pack of sugar at her as I picked up the phone, "Assalamualaikum Farouz, did you sleep well?" Across from me Amity mimicked did you sleep well? But batted her eyes and attempted to throw her too-short hair over her shoulder, which didn't make any sense because I wear a hijab.

His voice still had that deep, sleepy sound in it and it made my cheeks turn red, "yes alhamdulillah, did you?" I gave him the same reply. Farouz yawned, then said, "are you ready for tonight inshallah?" his smile was evident in his voice.

I shrugged then replied, "with Allah's will, I'm ready."

"Good, good," he yawned again, "I'm sorry I keep yawning, just woke up. What are your plans for today? I know weddings here aren't like they are in Egypt. Spending the entire day at the spa getting prepped and all," he chuckled, "or do you plan on doing that anyway?"

He's right, the weddings are completely different in every arabic country. Most Middle Eastern countries have the men and women separated, as should be by religion. However, it's impossible to do that here, so the wedding will be mixed. Middle Eastern countries also spoiled the brides, giving them a full makeover at the spa before the wedding. That wasn't religion, that was crazy culture, and I am not crazy. "No," I laughed, "I'm spending the day with Amity. What are you doing?"

Farouz said, "the boys are throwing me a quick bachelors party."

Sitting up right, I gasped and said, "astaghfirullah (ask God for forgiveness)! Farouz are serious? That's haram!"

My fiancé laughed loudly, "I'm kidding!" his laugh rang through the phone, deep and joyous, "astaghfirullah, Dina I'd never do anything like that. I have a couple appointments to finish so I can get that break, then I'm going to the mosque and chilling with the guys."

"I'm glad."

Farouz hummed, "okay, I just wanted to check on you. I'll give you back to Amity. Salam Dina."

"Salam Farouz," I hung up.

Amity mimicked me once again, "'salam Farooozz' I love how you guys say each other's names when you're saying goodbye, that's so cute."

"Okay," I laughed at the faces she was making, "are you done eating? Where to now?"

My best friend tried to seem casual, but I could feel the excitement radiate off her, "oh I don't know," she said, running her hands through her hair, "but I was thinking you need some cool new reads for your new house and all."

"I freaking love you!" I yelped, "let's get going!"

***

Amity stood behind me in her emerald green dress as we both looked at our reflections in the full body mirror. The high heels I was wearing caused my wedding dress to set on the ground with only a couple inches pooling at my feet. My hijab was wrapped in a simple but pretty fold around my head and my makeup was light but flattering, it put all the focus on my eyes, courtesy of Amity.

Getting ready took us a total of four hours. First we worked on my hair, Amity and our friend Jewel spent two hours perfecting every curl in my long black hair. From the side bangs to the loose curls, every inch was perfect and I had them to thank. After that they started on my makeup, around thirty minutes on my eyes and then another thirty on the rest of my face. Then finally, the dress and hijab. Now of course I should have already known what style of hijab I was going to wear to my wedding, and I did. But when we did it, I couldn't help but feel like it ruined the entire look. So the last hour was dedicated to trying different styles until I found the perfect one.

The entire process was tedious, we yelled and argued. My mother was really fed up with the three of us, and my dad had attempted to rush us until he yelled and went to wait outside. You're going to be late to your own wedding he yelled before storming out of the room.

None of that matters now, I'm finally ready and we're on our way to the reception. Now, Muslim weddings run a bit differently. The part where we actually get married is called the Nikah. This happens between the groom and the bride's guardian. The Officiant starts off the ceremony by giving a short speech about the importance of marriage and our duties to God and each other. Then the groom and the guardian are to hold each other's right hands under a white handkerchief. The officiant then says words that my father has to repeat, usually something around the ballpark of "I agree to let you marry my daughter, Dina Ramadan, in the name of God and his prophet's Sunnah (Islamic permissions)" and then the same to the groom, who says "I agree to marry Dina Ramadan in the name of God and his Sunnah." The words must be repeated exactly as the officiant says them because any mispronunciation can change the meaning and mess up the entire event (stressful, I know.)

When we arrived at the reception, Farouz was waiting outside. Our eyes met and his face lit with a smile that made everything around us seem darker. He walked up to me and, with that same smile, said, "Mashalla, Dina you look..." his eyes went down the full dress, "wow, you're so beautiful Mashallah. I must be the luckiest man."

Honestly, I was at a loss of words. In the days I hadn't seen him Farouz grew out and trimmed his beard to create the most jawline-flattering beard I've ever seen. The beard complemented his new haircut in a way that made my whole body tingle. I stood there, speechless, my face no doubt red, until Amity appeared next to me, "Heads up lovers, Mr. Ramadan is coming."

That knocked us out of our trance, Farouz cleared his throat and we both took a step back. We can wait, just a few more hours until these walls fell. "Assalamualaikum," he said to my mother and father, "you're all just on time. Bismillah (in the name of God), shall we head in?" He waited for my father's nod before lending me his arm. I hitched my hand onto him, exhilarated by his nice smell and the events that were waiting behind those doors.

The Nikah went by without a single flaw. And the second the officiant confirmed that we were married, Farouz walked over and took my hand, and brought it to his lips. A quick and simple gesture but I was taken, and I swear everything looked brighter. Throughout the day I kept thinking that maybe I was making a mistake, but there is no way this feeling is wrong. I've saved myself for the right man, and alhamdulillah, Allah has gifted me with Farouz. Wallahi (I swear in the name of God) I will tend to his every need and care for him until my dying breath. He is half of my religion, and half of me. And after my religion, he is the most important in my life.

For the rest of the wedding, everyone was happy and merry. My non muslim friends danced and sung, Farouz' friends were loud, full of dance, and kept everyone laughing. The only dark patch in the night was when my mom said to Farouz, "I wish your parents would have come. They would at least support their son's marriage, right?"

"Mama," I warned.

Farouz put his hand gently in between my shoulder blades and said, "it's okay Dina." To my mom: "unfortunately it's very hard to communicate with them. May Allah help them."

My mother persisted, "but you must have some family here to support you?"

With a smile, he said, "my muslim brothers and sisters are my family. And of course Dina and her family are now mine."

"Of course," mama nodded, "I just would have loved to meet them, a climate like this is bound to soften them up."

Farouz nodded with a tight lipped smile, I said, "okay mama, that's enough. I think Ali needs you please go see him." When she walked away, I turned to Farouz, "I'm so sorry, I mean she doesn't know, and she's really happy. Are you okay?"

He exhaled slowly, "yes, I'm fine. Sorry, it's just my family isn't something I like discussing with anyone." His eyes went wide, "not that your mother is anyone! I didn't mean that I just–"

I laughed, "it's okay," taking his hand, I said, "come on, let's not ruin the night, okay?"

"Okay," he said softly, "I'm so blessed to have you Dina."

***

Mama held my face between her two hands, we've already said our goodnights multiple times, but she keeps running back. "I'm so proud of you," she said whilst crying.

With a sniffle, I said, "mama please don't cry. I will be okay."

"I know, I know. I trust you, and Allah, and Farouz. You will be happy here. But I'll miss you so much."

She took me in a hug. "I love you mama."

"I love you too dear, know that. I know we drive you crazy with our ways, but it was always in your best interest." She stood back, "okay, goodnight! Go to your husband, I won't hold you from him." Then she turned and walked to the car. Amity and my brothers waved happily as it drove away.

Standing at the doorway, I tried to process the change that just happened. Yes, I've been living away from my parents for two years. But that was in a student dorm. Now I'm Farouz' wife, I'll always live away from my parents. I really couldn't process the change, or what just happened. So there was nothing to do but turn around and enter into the rest of my life.

Farouz stood a few feet into the house, "How are you feeling?"

Nervous. Excited. Scared. Warm. Happy. I didn't know so many emotions could be felt all at once. "Alhamdulillah," was all I could manage.

He nodded, then said, "do you want to go change out of that? It looks wonderful but can't be all that comfortable."

With a sigh, I said, "yes!" We walked to the room, I had been in the house multiple times before, choosing tiles and helping with the redecoration. The house is honestly beautiful. In the living room, all the furniture was a beige leather. The kitchen was my mom's dream kitchen. But the bedroom was another story. A mahogany red king bed sat in the middle of the wall across the door, dressed with the white shiny wedding set and full of soft pillows. On each side was a night stand. There was a small couch on the perpendicular wall, next to it was a chest and a grand looking hanger stand, next to them a large window with it's window seat perfect for reading. The wall parallel from the bed held the dressing table with its mirror, next to which is a full body mirror. The fourth wall was the walk-in closet, full of both our clothes. Next to the closet was the door to the bathroom.

We both stood at the door awkwardly. Me with my hands holding each other, and him with his behind his back. "You go first," he said, "I'll wait out here."

I nodded gratefully and stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. I love the dress, but after wearing it for that many hours it was itchy and painful. The hijab came off first, then I tried to unzip the dress, wrestling with myself for minutes in attempt to reach the zipper on my back. Finally, I gave up and stood in the middle, thinking of calling Amity for help. But I knew what I had to do. Gathering my bearings, and fixing my hair in the mirror, I went and opened the door. "Um," my heart's about to hop out of my throat, "Farouz?"

He walked out of the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. Farouz abandoned the jacket of the tux and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. He stood there with all his beauty and glory, gaping at me. Why? I've been wearing this all day. "You're so beautiful, my God." My groom walked towards me and ran his hands through the locks. I couldn't meet his eyes. "Ya Allah, just...wow."

"Um," all I could do was give off a quiet laugh, massaging my hand nervously until his hands gently pried them apart and filled their place.

Farouz brought our hands up to our faces, "your hands always do that when you're nervous. It was one of the first things I noticed about you. There were always strange urges to hold your hands for you, to make you feel better." I smiled, his face is so close, and his words are so sweet, I wanted more than anything to lean into him... "I'm sorry," he chuckled, there was now a red color in his cheeks, "what did you call me for? Did you need anything? I got distracted..."

"Oh yeah," I let out a nervous laugh, "I can't unzip my dress, c...can you help me?"

"Of course, yeah." He smiled, walking into the room with me. I pulled my hair away and turned around, partially to hide my flushed face. His hands were cold, they brushed my neck before I felt the zipper release the tight grip of the dress. Leaving my back exposed. A nervous fear gripped me and I was too afraid to turn back. Then I felt his hand again, this time slowly go down my bare back. The excitement shocked me, and I turned around with a startled gasp. His brown eyes were dark. My husband bit his lip hesitantly as his eyes traveled from my eyes to my lips. He leaned closer, and this time, I followed my instinct and leaned into him as well. His minty breath fanned my face as I stood there, waiting impatiently. "Dina..." he dragged my name. Then our breaths mixed, and his lips were on mine. My entire body lit on fire. This was my first kiss and I felt safe with him. Farouz pulled back for a few seconds and rested his head against mine. Then he chuckled, out of breath, and said, "I'm already crazy about you." I felt like I should say something, but there were no words. So I stepped onto my toes and let him meet me halfway.

His arms wrapped around my torso and my hands desperately ran through his hair. I felt cold and warm at the same time. My heart was beating so loudly it's sound filled my ears and I was certain he heard it to. I felt his heartbeat along with mine. I fell in love with him that night.

A/N:

Dedication to @ChocoDarling23 for her comment about the disagreeing relatives!! I actually considered that. But since it had nothing to do with the plot and would only cause unnecessary conflict, I decided against it. But good eye!!

SO... chapter 5 didnt get many reads. And I lost my spot in the top 1000 spiritual :( Did you guys not like the chapter? Do you like this chapter?

Regardless, I love this story and will continue writing it. 

Don't forget to talk to me in the comments!! Vote if you'd like :)

See you Friday!! 

Nehal