The Year of You (on hold)

chapter 5

I'm not sure when Nabeel left, but when I woke up he wasn't there. I decided I should take the day to explore the house. I pray Dhur then look around.

Nabeel's mansion is a typical Connecticut mansion, though his interior looks like Shahrukh Khan's palace. I first walk around the empty halls of the upstairs part. I find 3 bedrooms with bathrooms and 2 sitting rooms. All so spacious and empty. I'm guessing Nabeel doesn't come up here often because everything looks so untouched. A thin layer of dust sits ontop of everything and I'm tempted to do some cleaning but I decide I should finish looking around first. I stumble across a framed photograph of Nabeel, Badr, Aisha and Hussam Uncle with one of his cousins. This must've been the time they went to Iraq. They all look so young and different. I put the photograph down and leave the room, wondering when Nabeel turned this way. Or if he'd always been like this.

I tackle the second floor next, the floor where our bedroom is, and find that there's also 2 more rooms each with their own bathroom and another 2 sitting rooms. Nothing very intriguing but the granduer. It's beautiful. Every room in the house so far is so grand. Each has its own theme, but it's all closely similar to each other. Nabeel really knows how to decorate. I check the time and find that it's Asr time, so I make wudu and pray. I make dua for my guidance, and Nabeel's guidance, and the guidance of the Ummah. After I finish praying I walk through the third floor, looking at all the rooms. There's only one bedroom on this floor, and it looks used. Maybe before I got here Nabeel was sleeping in here. Through out all three floors I've seen, I find 7 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, 3 dining rooms, 4 sitting rooms, and 3 kitchens all with equipment that you'd find in a 5 star resturaunt.

When I'm done looking around I think it's time to start cooking iftar* for myself. I don't have much of an appetite and I'm not sure what to make so instead I cut some fruits and heat up last nights dinner. I take the time waiting for Maghrib* athan* to read Quran but I keep thinking about what happened last night. Nabeel told me he never wanted to marry me, but during dinner we had that moment. I try to think less about what I feel towards him and more about what he might feel towards me. The way he looked at me, as if I was someone who could hurt him. I didn't even know Nabeel could get hurt. He hurts people, but is never hurt.

I eat iftar alone and pray Maghrib then my mother calls.
"Asalamalaikum habibti Muneerah! How are you? Did you ask Nabeel about tomorrow?" my mother sounds overly excited and I almost completely forgot.
"No Mama, he got home late last night and was too tired to talk. I'll ask him today inshAllah.* Anyways, mama I have to go, I'll text you after I talk to him. Masalama*"

I hang up the phone and find Nabeel leaning against the wall on his shoulder. He has his arms crossed and his muscles are poking through his shirt. He catches me staring and clears his throat. I quickly avert my gaze.
"Ask me what?" he inquires, taking a step forward.

"No-nothing, Mama wanted to invite us over or dinner tomorrow and she told me to ask you," I say gathering the courage to ask.

"I'm off actually, tomorrow night, so maybe it can work out," he steps towards me and I step back, and then I'm against the wall.

"Y-you'd come?" I ask in a small, uncertain voice.

He leans his face into mine and whispers, "Why not?"
I stare at the ground as he nuzzles his face into my neck and I shiver, and my breath hitches.

"Nabeel, I-" He cuts me off and puts his arm on the wall and one around my waist.

"You're not going anywhere. " He says in a slow, seductive voice.

My knees get weak, and his breath cools my hot neck. He puts his face in front of mine and tells me to look at him and I do. His usually dark eyes are deep and warm. Inviting. They beckon me to lean forward. I press my forehead against his and he leans forward. The next thing he does takes me by surprise, though it shouldn't. He presses his lips onto mine, shutting his eyes. I shut my eyes, but I don't kiss him back. He opens his eyes, full of wonder. He starts to back away but I hold onto his shirt, and I pull him into me, and press my lips onto his, shutting my eyes. His arms tighten around my waist and my hands go up to his neck, his hair. His body is pressed tightly against mine, and I can feel his heartbeat, but I can't feel my own. He pushes me against the wall and our kiss is full of mystery. He kisses me and I kiss him back and he holds me, and I don't let go. He pulls away and rests his head on my shoulder. "Muneerah," he says, "Stay with me." A tear leaves my eye as I tell him in a hushed voice, "Always. "