His Accidental Bride

One

The house is boisterous, full of life and energy and everyone was up and about.  Same design and colour of African prints (Atamfa)  sewn into different forms and styles hung unto numerous people's bodies. 

   The bride can be pointed from a group of cousins, friends and aunties of same age group gisting, laughing and eating snacks, all in uniform fabric (ashoebi), while she stood out in a mustard Sophie Hallette French lace. 

    

    "Salma, your attention is needed in your father's bedroom ", an elder woman informed snatching the bride from her escapade.

    "Right away", she replied trying to mask her emotion for the umpteenth time which didn't go unnoticed by her best friend Rayhana. Rayhana gave her friend a reassuring smile as if telling her 'it shall be well' while the friend exchanged it with a tight-lipped one. 

   She straightened her three-quarter sleeve A-line bridal gown, with flower applique decorated with rhinestones by the right shoulder and along her waistline like a belt. Diamond dropping earrings on her ears, sophisticated necklace and tennis bracelet adding more attention to her red-henna(ed) hands. 

    She strolled to her father's wing, giving the fake smile -she has come to master- here and there. 

    "Assalamu alaikum", she announced her presence and squatted in front of the old aged man.

    "Wa alaikumussalam", he replied moving his frail eyes from his phone to his favourite child. He gave her a smile, kept his phone and removed his glasses. His well defined, wrinkled, assymetrical facial features became more visible.

  Large oval eyes, sharp pointed nose, thin lips all on a fair slender face, Salma is his spiting image, the young and female version of him,  the most spicy of his children. 

    She's so ambitious and she has achieved so many things her age mates dream of. Her determination reminds him of his youth. 

    He pat the place close to his sitting position, signalling for her to sit near him. 

    "You got married today but you will forever be my baby even when you bear your own" the simple sentence he made triggered the tears that have been pleading to flow since the turn of events a few months back. 

    "I'm sorry for doing this to you baby. But I only did it because I love you", he said patting her back "you know I do", more to himself this time around.

    "I trust you Abba, just pray for me", she said in between tears. 

    "You will be happy my love, you've always make me happy", he nodded reassuring her. 

   The father and daughter continued their moments until maghrib when he had to leave for the masjid. 

    Brides are known to have a cold feet when they will be conveyed to their matrimonial homes but this bride was an outlier. She wasn't cheerful nor was she sombre, she was just normal and it broke her mother's heart to see her only daughter like that, she prayed inwardly for her lord to never leave her daughter to herself even for the blink of an eye. 

    People thought she was too broken to have an emotion. 

    "Allah Sarki, she couldn't even cry? " she heard a woman mention from afar. 

    "how can she? After all she had gone through ", another pitched.

    What she hates apart from being controlled by a man is pity. That's why she agreed to the marriage in the first place,  she doesn't want anybody to pity her. She has moved on but they fail to believe that, and In contrast to what they think she's not moved by leaving the house, because to her is like going to a dormitory. 

    "Bismillah", an old aunt reminded her of the new home ritual. She repeated after her and walked in with her right leg. She couldn't see the interior of the house because of the way she was veiled as per tradition. But,  she hopes is the house she contributed in building. At least it will give her more comfort. 

Her aunties did another session of the marriage sermon but like the one organised yesterday, she didn't pay attention to it. She wouldn't need it, she's just in the house as Jamal's flat mate.

   They left after emphasizing on 'patience', they should have kept their sermon for the next bride, Salma is sure she will need it more than her. 

     She was beyond ectasy when she heard of her friends decision to honour her and forget about the traditional 'sayen baki'.  They all know about the condition of the marriage and the groomsmen too, so they happily skipped the event. 

     She lifted her veil and walked to the closet to undress when the groom walked his friends out. 

    Refreshed and perfumed she slumped unto her four poster bed in lilac and tan. She remembers vividly when she chose this bed from the catalog her father brought to the house. 

    *Knock* *knock*

    She adjusted the robe of her two-piece night gown and her cap. 

    "come in"

'Ummmm..... I brought roasted chicken ", the groom said hesitantly. 

"I'm full. May be tomorrow "

"Okay. Do you need anything? ", he said this time around more confidently. 

"Nope. Goodnight", and he left closing the door behind him. 

  She want to give the house a tour but she's too stressed out for that now. May be tomorrow. 

*

Hello Hello lovelies.
Let's see who gets to find this, first 😊