Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 55: Engaged, to be Married

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

Authors Note: We're approaching the end of this book, and it's making me very emotional. 🙃

Warsan's P.O.V

I skipped into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. My mother was leaning over her designated station: the countertop. She was chopping away at some vegetables, watching me from the corner of her eye. My dad, who was sitting at the kitchen table peeled the newspaper from his eyes and set it down before him. The room fell quiet, safe for the repetitive sound of her knife against the cutting board. Chop, chop, chop...

'So, your brother Junaid told us what happened at the library.' My dad said awkwardly. I nodded, scratching the back of my neck.

'Oh, you heard about that.' I said, shrinking against the fridge. My mother turned her face towards me with a smile. My dad smiled too, curious about what she had to say.

'Back in my day, I had men fighting over me too. Enjoy it while it lasts.' She whispered. She laughed happily as my dad's smile disappeared. I chuckled at my father's reaction but was confused as to why my mother was being nice to me. She was never nice to me.

'Okay, okay, calm down.' My dad warned. She wiped the tears from her eyes and settled down. 'Come sit. Your mother and I want to have a word with you.' He said.

I looked at her and she smiled warmly. I didn't know what was going on. Doing as my dad told, I pulled out a chair and joined him at the dining table. My mother rinsed her hands and sat beside him and across from me. My eyes bounced from one parent to the other.

'So Laith is the one.' My dad said.

I bit my lip, slightly embarrassed. Marriage is all fun and games until you have to speak to your parents. Feelings of anxiety, embarrassment and shyness were drowning my thoughts. 'It seems like it.' I replied. 'I have more questions to ask him of course, but he seems like the right one for me. I prayed Salah Al-Istikhara after choosing him and I've felt very secure in my decision.' I explained. I felt like I was on an episode of Shark Tank. Or worse, defending my case in court. This was so uncomfortable!

My mother nodded understandingly. 'If that's the case, then we need to make preparations. I only have one daughter, you know. I've been looking forward to this day ever since you were born, although I will miss you dearly.' She beamed. I pressed my lips together and looked away. She's always been so passive-aggressive towards me, it was hard to believe that she'd miss me when I left. I'm so sure she would enjoy spoiling my brothers rotten for the next decade or two.

My father glanced at my mom apprehensively. She gulped. 'Warsan.. I... uhm. I'm sorry.' I blinked, in shock at hearing those two words for the first time in my life. 'I'm sorry that I've always been so tough on you.' She added. My dad nodded in agreement. 'My mother was the same way with me, and when I would complain, she always said that it was her way of showing me she loved me. And that she was easier on my brothers because they lacked the potential I had. I inherited the same behavior from her, and I can feel the distance it has created between us over the years. It's just been so awkward to speak about that I let it fester and continue at your expense. I'm so sorry.' She explained with tears in her eyes. I was also growing emotional. Every girl wishes that she could look to her mom for praise and support. Mothers are meant to be nurturers, kind and loving. But all I got was a scolding, strict and highly temperamental woman in that position instead. But I couldn't ignore the way it felt seeing her cry like this. It pulled at the strings of my heart. I loved her after all, and there was a bond here that could never be replaced. The hadith about mothers dawned on me at that moment. A man came to the Prophet and said, 'O Messenger of God! Who among the people is the most worthy of my good companionship? The Prophet said: Your mother. The man said, 'Then who?' The Prophet said: Then your mother. The man further asked, 'Then who?' The Prophet said: Then your mother. The man asked again, 'Then who?' The Prophet said: Then your father. (Bukhari, Muslim). I reached over and held her hand.

'Me leaving this house doesn't mean it's the end of our relationship. We can start fresh, and grow closer with time. Insha'Allah we will reshape our relationship into a healthy one. With the permission of Allah.'

All of a sudden, Junaid and Hamza ran towards us and squealed happily. They took turns hugging us tightly, cheering us on. My father grinned and picked up his newspaper. I never realized how much I was going to miss my family. I always viewed them as a nuisance but it dawned on me then that my life was never going to be the same when I walked out the front door. I started to cry, not sure why exactly I was overflowing with emotion. I guess I loved my family much more than I would have liked to admit.