Love unveiled

Chapter 4

I made my way to my room, feeling the comforting familiarity of my space wrap around me. The soft light filtered from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over my bed. I quickly grabbed some fresh clothes from my wardrobe and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. After washing off the day's dust and heat, I felt more relaxed and rejuvenated.

Once I was done, I spread my prayer mat, performing my ablution before standing for Maghreb prayer. The rhythmic movements of my salah brought me a sense of peace, my mind settling after the hectic day.

Afterward, I sat on my bed, picking up my phone. My mind still buzzed with thoughts, but I found myself scrolling through my messages, and soon I was chatting with Zara. We laughed over the outfits we'd picked up and gossiped a little about the latest drama in our social circles.

After a while, I switched to Twitter, hoping to catch up on some news. As I scrolled down my timeline, a post caught my eye. It was a discussion thread on a topic I had a particular interest in—relationships and the perception of modern marriages. The tweet had sparked a heated debate, and I, unable to resist, tapped the reply button.

I quickly typed out my thoughts, feeling the thrill of contributing to a conversation that hit close to home. The notifications started coming in as others liked and replied to my comment, and for a moment, I was lost in the back-and-forth of opinions.

Time seemed to fly as I engaged with the thread, the weight of waiting for my father's return slipping away. Twitter had a way of sucking me in, making the world outside fade until I was pulled back to reality by the sound of footsteps in the hallway, signaling that Abba's arrival was imminent.

As I reached for the door, my phone buzzed with a new notification. Glancing at the screen, I noticed a reply from a guy under the tweet I had been engaging with. What caught my attention immediately was the fact that he was the only person who agreed with me. In a sea of skepticism about couples meeting online and forming lasting relationships, he echoed my belief, offering well-thought-out points about trust, mutual respect, and understanding.

Curious, I paused for a moment, reading his response carefully. His words resonated with me—he wasn't just agreeing for the sake of it; his perspective was grounded and realistic. He talked about how online connections could develop into something meaningful if both parties were open and honest with each other. The key, he emphasized, was building trust and learning about one another beyond the screen.

Intrigued, I responded, and soon enough, our conversation flowed effortlessly. We went back and forth under the tweet, exchanging thoughts and opinions, laughing at how people were so quick to dismiss the idea of online relationships. As the chat deepened, he sent me a follow request, and shortly after, his message slid into my DMs. I hesitated for a second, my thumb hovering over the notification before I clicked on it.

His message in my DMs was casual yet engaging, picking up from where our conversation had left off on the tweet. It felt easy, natural. I found myself typing back quickly, my thoughts pouring out without much hesitation. I was about to hit send on my latest reply when a soft knock interrupted me.

"Hajiya qarama, Ummi said you should come out. Abba will be arriving any minute now," one of the maids called from outside my door.

I blinked, snapping out of the online conversation I had been so absorbed in. "Alright, I'll be there," I called back.

With a small sigh, I glanced at my phone again, my fingers hovering over the send button. I quickly typed a short response, promising to continue the chat later, and then slipped my phone into my bag. Abba's arrival was more important now, but I couldn't help but feel a small flutter of curiosity about this unexpected connection I had made online.

As I descended the stairs, I saw Abba seated in the living room, his familiar presence filling the space with warmth. He was mid-conversation with Ummi and my elder brother— Hamma Haidar, all of them engaged in discussing his trip and catching up on each other's lives. Abba's laughter echoed softly through the room as he recounted an amusing incident during his travels.

I approached with a smile, greeting Abba with a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome back, Abba," I said warmly, before turning to greet ya Haidar, who gave me a playful nod.

"Thank you, mamana," Abba replied, beaming at me. "How are the Sallah preparations coming along?"

I sat down, joining in on the family conversation, filling them in on my day and the progress of the preparations. For the next few minutes, we exchanged updates and stories, our voices mixing with the low hum of contentment that comes from being reunited.

After a while, Ummi glanced at the clock and gently urged, "You should go freshen up before dinner, dear. We'll catch up more afterward."

Abba nodded in agreement, getting up to head upstairs, while I remained behind with hamma Haidar. As soon as our parents were out of the room, hamma Haidar turned to me, his tone more casual.

"So, how's everything going for Sallah?" he asked, leaning back on the couch. "Got your clothes sorted?"

I smiled, nodding. "Yes, we went to the tailor earlier today. It's all coming together. How are things with you? How are aunty Mimi and the kids?"

Hamma Haidar's face softened at the mention of his family. "They're doing well. You know, the kids are growing so fast. You should come visit more often," he said with a chuckle, clearly proud of his little ones.

We spent the next few minutes talking about his family life, his work, and how quickly the children were changing. I loved these moments with my brother, even though we don't see each other as often now that he had his own family. There was something grounding about catching up, a reminder of how much life had evolved for both of us.

Soon, our parents returned, and we all made our way to the dining room. The long dining table was beautifully set, the aroma of traditional dishes filling the room. We settled down to eat, exchanging light conversation as the evening unfolded. After we had finished our meal, hamma Haidar stood up and stretched, announcing that he would be heading back to his house.

As he left, I bid him goodbye, my thoughts already wandering back to my room. I excused myself and headed upstairs, feeling the exhaustion of the day slowly catching up to me.

The moment I entered my room, I instinctively reached for my phone. A notification flashed across the screen—it was from the guy I had been chatting with earlier. His message was short but curious, "Are you still there?"

I paused for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I quickly typed back, "Yes, I'm here. Sorry, I was with my family."

As I hit send, I felt a flicker of excitement. I hadn't expected our conversation to pick up again, but something about it felt different, and I found myself looking forward to whatever came next.