A Piece Of His Heart

Five

Eliza

My mother paced the lounge in front of me, making me dizzy as my eyes followed her. Her face was contorted in worry and an awkward smile was plastered over her mouth as she talked to Shazia Aunty over the phone about...

Well, she didn't care to tell me.

"Of course, I'll make sure she's ready on time. Allah Hafiz." She put the phone down and sat beside me, massaging her temples.

"What happened?" I put my arm around her shoulders and leaned into her, concerned for her.

"Waleed wants to take you out for lunch today, in two hours."

I jolted back like I'd been electrocuted and stared at my mother in disbelief. "And you agreed?!"

"To aur kya karti? I don't want to upset them, Eliza! I like these people for you, okay." Well, I liked them, too, for me. But this is insane. No way was I going on a lunch date with him.

*"Then what else should I have done?"

No. Nada. Zilch.

"But, Mama, you know I blurt out random things whenever I'm nervous! I can't just go out for lunch with him like that!" I tried to reason with her, but she shook her head.

"You're an adult, you can do this. Go and get ready now." I needed at least two weeks to mentally prepare myself for such an interaction. How does one even dress up for a date, or behave on one?

"I hate you," I muttered before hobbling to my room to pick something to wear.

I ended up dressing in a beige dress that reached my ankles and had a slit up the center, revealing the black tights I wore underneath. As I began to pull my hair up into a ponytail, I frowned, feeling the little bump on the top of my head. It seemed to have been there since forever and I didn't remember how I got it. I put on black ankle boots and slipped on small silver hoops in the two piercings I had in my ears before wringing a floral scarf around my neck.

"You dressed up well for this lunch you seem to not want to go on." My mother commented causing me to roll my eyes as I took a sip from the glass of water in my hands.

"You're wearing your charm bracelet too." She observed, bringing up my wrist to look at it better. It was something special to me that I wore whenever I felt like I needed support.

Today was that kind of day. It was mainly because I didn't get the purpose behind this lunch. Last week when we'd met, he hadn't seemed like he wanted to be here at all, and now he suddenly wanted to have lunch with me, that, too, alone.

Seemed dodgy.

And if it was his mother's idea, I would have to deal with a stiff-as-a-board, scowling man. I needed support for that, too.

Mama ushered me away to the door when the bell rang and I sighed and slumped before squaring my shoulders, smiling, and striding to the door confidently to open it.

"Asalam Alaikum." I greeted him, closing the door behind me as I stepped out onto the uneven floor. His black SUV didn't look like it belonged here, and neither did he in his grey button-down with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black pants.

I was correct to assume that he was a model when he looked good enough to be one. But I'd googled him, and he was, indeed, not a model but a businessman who had built his company from the ground up in four years. I'd never thought my husband (Insha Allah. It wasn't wrong for me to say it, right?) would be a man with a verified Instagram account.