Amani spent the next morning, noon, and afternoon in the market a fifteen-minute car ride from her house. More specifically, she spent it within the bridal dress boutique on the second floor of a four-story building. She sat in the company of her uncle's wife and Reema's future mother- and sister-in-law as they watched the dress be fit to Reema's figure for the wedding coming in the next week.

It was a long dress of white cloth and busy red embroidery. Around her cousin's waist, the dress was fitted perfectly then fell loosely to the floor. Its length had prompted a set of heels to lift Reema up and ensure it would not sweep dust along its tail. The sleeves widened as they fell over the freshly drawn henna on her arms. The collar of the dress stood an inch around her neck, rising to nearly touch the cap she used to cover her hair.

Were it not for the white veil falling from her head and reaching past her hips, the cap may have appeared too minimalistic. But the matching red stitches that decorated its edges and the small golden plated tiara around her head added breathtaking touches.

"When you get married, will you wear traditional clothing like this, Amani?" Reema asked once they left the room to help her out of the dress once all the changes had been finalized.

Amani didn't immediately dismiss the thought as she unzipped the hidden zipper down her cousin's back. "It's really pretty, but I don't think so. The wedding dresses I'm used to are usually only white and a bit more extravagant than this one."

"I know. I've seen them in movies. They always have such a long tail dragging behind them, don't they?" Reema carefully detached the veil falling over her back. "If we wore a dress like that here, it would be black with dirt by the end of the night. Not to mention, everybody would be stepping on it during all the dancing."

"Then it's good they are not here. I think these styles are better suited for the wedding parties here. Bas, tell me, how does it feel to have signed all the papers already? You're practically married now, aren't you?" She watched her cousin's smile grow.

Reema nodded. "Technically, yes. I could move in with him right now if I wanted to as his official wife. The wedding is the best part of it all, though, don't you think? All the music and dancing and food!"

Amani joked. "The food is the best part, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding? It's the only reason I'm getting married," Reema answered a little too seriously and, sharing a single emotionless blink, both girls broke into a fit of laughter on their way out of the boutique. Reema's father's car was waiting for the two near the busy road, her parents already sitting within.

"Do you know what you're going to wear?"

Amani nodded. "Auntie got me a new dress last week to wear. I'll show it to you when you come over. It's black with a red and gold waist and the sleeves are loose like yours."

"Black?" Reema asked as they climbed into the vehicle.

"I can't wear white, you know."

"What about the embroidery then? It has to be very colorful or you are going to arrive at my wedding looking like the Angel of Death. That'll be another scandal you'd put on yourself," she chuckled.

Amani rolled her eyes. "It's colorful, don't worry. Straight across the chest and separate columns around the skirt. It's pretty but not pretty enough to take anyone's attention off of you, of course," she bowed her head graciously to her cousin.

Reema sat back comfortably. "That's precisely what I like to hear. Your humility is one of my favorite things about you, baby cousin."

They drove Amani to her home before circling back the way they'd come toward their house. On her way up the steps, she imagined if things would change once Reema got married. Would she become too occupied with her new house and her husband to meet her cousin on the daily as they did now?

If Reema went away, Amani's existence would bore itself to death.

Auntie was sitting in the living room, humming to herself while wrapping grape leaves around the meat and rice stuffing she'd prepared the day before. The large pot beside her was nearly filled to its brim when the girl stepped in. "Ah, you're back so soon?"

"We've been out for nearly six hours."

"Yes, very quick indeed," Auntie nodded, placing another expertly wrapped roll into the perfected flower shape she'd created with all the others in the pot. "Did you have fun?"

Amani shrugged. "Do you want me to help?"

Her aunt shook her head. "I only have a few more before I am done. You seem tired. Why don't you rest while I cook dinner? We will eat some waraq enab from these but the other two pots go to your uncle for the wedding."

"Other two?" Amani nearly collapsed. "That is the third?"

Auntie nodded. "Yes, I left the smallest one for our family."

"Smallest one...," she whispered, turning away in a mild form of shell shock. "I need to lay down."

The long dress she was wearing offered too much of a hassle to take off so Amani dropped onto her bed with her clothes still on. She sighed, feeling every muscle in her back relax as she sunk into the mattress. Like a cat, Amani reached her arms above her head and curled her back in a temporarily deafening stretch. A long yawn bellowed from her wide mouth.

She turned onto her side and caught sight of the bird chirping from her balcony's railing. It hopped on its small feet, turning to inspect either side of the street as if it was calling out to a friend it had left behind. Amani remained quiet and watched the unaware bird until it fluttered its wings and took flight.

A knock came from her door.

"Have you fallen asleep?" Auntie asked.

"No, I'm just resting," Amani turned around to see her aunt step into the room. She'd washed her hands but her hair was still wrapped in the unusual contraption standing on her head. "Do you need help?"

Auntie sucked her teeth to dismiss the girl. "There is something I wanted to speak to you about."

Amani cringed. "Uh oh."

"You have a marriage proposal."

"No, thank you," Amani turned back over. Her rejection was usually the end of the conversation each time, but her aunt remained at her side even after she'd turned away.

She was silent, but the uncertainty within Auntie was so strong its presence spoke independently of her words. Amani sighed and closed her eyes, wondering if she'd be able to sleep during the day for the first time in her life because she'd woken up so early. "Amani," she began to speak then hesitated in search of her words.

"Auntie, I'm not interested," Amani replied, stuffing her hands beneath the pillow her head rested upon. She let her eyes slip to a close, welcoming the feeling of peace. "Baba's thinking about taking me out of this place anyway. Hopefully this will be the last of its kind and I'll get out of here unscathed by any potential marriages."

Her aunt nodded. "I understand that you are not here to be married but I do not think you should reject all of them without even the slightest consideration. It would not be fair to the boy."

"Life isn't fair. Look at me now," she mumbled.

"Just think about it. I also would not have been interested if it was anybody else, but Um Muhsinis a-."

All the exhaustion slipped from her body when her eyes flew open at the name. Amani's craned her head to look up at her aunt. "Um Muhsin?" She repeated cautiously and sat up in the bed, scooting herself to sit directly in front of her aunt. "Auntie," Amani began. "Who exactly is this marriage proposal coming from?"

It couldn't be the same person in her mind.

It wasn't. Why was Amani even thinking of him right now?

"Her oldest son, of course," her aunt replied. "Muhsin Awad."

All her control snapped at his name. Amani yanked the covers off of her body before shoving herself off of the bed. Her feet moved quickly over the ground with only one destination in her mind. She hardly heard her aunt's questions on her way down the stairs and straight out the door, her anger too powerful to allow room for anything else in her mind.

Muhsin Awad.

Muhsin.

Her Muhsin.

The one she'd just been with the night before.

The marriage proposal had come from him? From his mother?

Oh, Amani was so angry. Never in her life would she have imagined that Bread Boy would come to her with a marriage proposal. He was supposed to be forbidden fruit, not fruit that proposed to her like those other men. Like that other man; the one who was 'willing' to marry her so she could save face because 'nobody else would want to marry her' after the rumors that were spread.

She hardly spared any of the passerby's a glance, making a beeline toward the boy standing in front of the bakery. He was nodding to the older man in front of him, taking a bread directly off the oven and placing it in a bag for him. A little girl stood beside him, rising onto her toes to reach the bag Muhsin extended toward her.

"How much for this, my boy?" The man asked.

"Khali, ami. You don't owe anything."

"No, that cannot be."

"This is from Yaba," the girl extended an envelope toward him and he took it, offering her a short thank you while turning back to the rising bread on the stove.

How could he look so... the same as he always did?

It enraged Amani even more as she stopped in front of him, not caring who heard her when she spoke to him. "We need to talk," she demanded, her tone sharp and evidently unhappy to any person who would hear it.

Muhsin's eyebrow twitched when she spoke because he hadn't seen her approach. All he'd heard were her firm words but, without turning to her, he'd identified her voice. The smile he was directing toward the contesting man who refused to leave without paying remained as it was, entirely unaffected by her presence. "I'm working," he replied, he bagged another three breads for the man who'd appeared after Amani.

"Then we can talk here-."

"No," he answered quickly, his eyes focused on the bread in front of him but his breathing growing deeper. "Just... give me a moment."

Amani crossed her arms and watched him so intensely, she hoped he felt her eyes burning through his head. If he did, Muhsin hid it so well she nearly wondered if he'd forgotten about her entirely. His increasing speed in packing the second bag and counting the change was the only sign he was still aware of her presence.

Once he'd gotten the older man to leave without paying, Muhsin handed the second man the last bit of his change and thanked him.

"Are you done?" She asked impatiently.

He switched off the fire beneath the stove and turned to her, his eyes low as he lifted his arms to motion to the entrance of the bakery behind her. "Yalla," he followed her into its privacy, letting the door fall closed behind them. "What do you need?"

Amani scoffed. "What do I need?" She pressed her hand to her chest, her tone exasperated because there was no chance that was anything other than a rhetorical question. "That's unbelievable."

"You are angry?" He asked.

"What am I supposed to be?" Amani replied. "How am I supposed to feel when I'm lying in bed and my aunt comes to tell me that Muhsin Awad has asked for my hand in my marriage? Muhsin Awad who I was just speaking to last night and who never mentioned anything about marriage in all the times we spoke."

His eyes monitored the street through the glass window. "I thought it might be improper to mention it to you first-."

"Improper?" Amani repeated.

"But I was going to tell you."

"When?"

"Last night."

Amani lifted her hands to her head and turned away from him, pacing toward the chairs lined against the wall. "I can't believe this," she scoffed. "A marriage proposal. I can't believe this!"

Muhsin's eyebrows knit together as he watched her distress. "I did not realize you would find it so insulting," he muttered.

"It's not-," Amani faced him, surprised to find his eyes already locked on hers. "Others proposed, I get that. They don't know me enough to think any wiser but I didn't think you'd do anything like this, Muhsin. I thought you were above all of that so I wasn't worried."

His eyebrows dipped and his eyes narrowed at her. "Above a marriage proposal?" He repeated, his tone low.

"You hardly know anything about me!"

"That's why I asked for your hand."

"No," Amani shook her head. "That's not how it works."

"Isn't it?" He retorted.

"You're supposed to get to know me before asking to marry me. Nobody asks for someone's hand so they can learn more about them."

He replied calmly. "I do."

Amani laughed. "That's wrong. Muhsin- you barely even look at me. Yesterday was the first time you've ever met my eyes. You know that, right? How can you want to marry someone you've never really looked at? You don't know me." She asked.

"I know-," he asserted. "-that I will not allow myself to go about matters with you in a way that disrespects either of us, especially not after what you've been exposed to. I do not hide because I do not do things in shameful ways. I understand that I should have made you aware of the proposal personally. I apologize for not being as honest as I intended to be and causing you anger."

She watched him, feeling the storm in her chest calming at his words. When Muhsin tore his gaze from hers and pointed it to the ground between them, she physically felt the rip in her heart. "I didn't... come here to marry," she murmured.

Muhsin was still for a moment. Amani regretted the words as she spoke them and, when she saw his expression shift, wished she could suck them all back in. "I understand."

"Muhsin-."

"Then I apologize for bothering you and your family. I pray you find someone to suit you better than I do. I'll leave you then," he lowered his head respectfully. The air changed between them, like this goodbye wouldn't be like the ones he gifted her every time he walked her home. This one would be final.

This one meant she would become nothing to him, and he would become nothing to her. Just like they'd been when she initially arrived.

Just the thought made Amani's heart and body ache.

"Muhsin," she stepped in front of the door before he could walk out of her life like it was nothing. She was supposed to be the unaffected one, but she knew she'd crumble if he walked away. For some reason, he'd built himself to be a foundation within her.

He paused in front of her, his eyes low.

"That's it then?" She asked. "We're done?"

"Amani," Muhsin whispered, no longer allowing their gazes to meet. If these were any other circumstances, she would melt at the sound of her voice on his tongue. He'd never said her name before. He said it now. Now that it was the end.

"You are not here to marry. We-," he delivered the final blow. "-never began."