Dare You To Love Me

«6» all my love

The first time Abbad Farraj had gone to Bako Manor to meet Yaseerah, he had made Fou'ad Farraj part with his precious Audi A8, not because he wanted it, but because he thought he would detest the whole meetup and required it as compensation.

He thought he was going there to meet an unruly teenager but he had been pleasantly surprised to realize that wasn't the case with his sister-in-law.

Yaseerah had defied every stereotype he had harbored about teenagers. She was delicate and beautiful, polite, kind, soft-spoken and everything sixteen year olds weren't.

More often than not, Abbad found himself observing her, whenever they were within the same vicinity, not because of some romantic inclinations but because he wanted to see the real her.

She was like a crystal figurine in a crystal palace.

Delicate.

Admirable.

Untouchable.

It unnerved him, because nothing about her spoke of her being a teenager.

The way she dressed, the way she walked, the way she talked, everything about her rubbed him the wrong way.

The thought of what she had endured, still endured at the hands of her father always made him question whether or not he had made a mistake by supporting the decision to wait for her eighteenth birthday before the Nikkah took place.

Two years later, Abbad could say that he still didn't know the real her. One thing remained constant though, her politeness, her love and loyalty to her milk-family, which he was sure she wasn't faking.

Tuning back into the conversation before him, Abbad couldn't help but snicker as he watched his youngest brother go through the boxes filled with Yaseerah's kayan lefe that were scattered around the spacious living area with the precision of a drill sergeant, ticking segments in his clipboard, muttering to himself.

“I think we've got everything,” Anna–Hayat's personal shopper–remarked, her tone weary, as she closed one of the boxes.

“Are you sure? You don't think we should add anything else? Are five sets of boxes enough?”

“I think they are more than enough,” Anna forced a smile onto her face, masking her annoyance and fatigue. They've been at this for hours on end, and though the pay was more than justified, Anna couldn't wait for the day when these boxes will be locked and driven to the bride's house. “Yaseerah will be thrilled with these choices.”

Fou'ad hummed under his breath, but he continued to peruse his clipboard, wanting to ensure that everything was in abundance.

He had been obsessing over every detail, using the wedding preparations as a distraction from the real issue at hand–his inability to communicate with Yaseerah, which he thought was absolutely pathetic.

“What do you think Abbad?” Fou'ad questioned, turning his gaze back onto his brother.

“It's not enough right?” he asked again, not waiting for Abbad's reply. “I knew it. Anna can you get me another set of boxes with...”

“Nothing,” Hayat Farraj interrupted, cutting him off. “Thank you for your help Anna,” she turned towards the woman, offering her an apologetic smile. “My driver's waiting outside to take you back to the store.”

Anna hesitated, torn between the pay she would be getting and relief at being allowed to leave early, but Hayat's insistence left no room for negotiation.

“But...”

“No buts groomzilla,” Hayat cut him off again. “You look like you're ready to dress an entire village for a year.”