Veil of Lies

A Love Unveiled

★ Musfirah

The house felt unfamiliar as I stepped inside, the light scent of roses lingering in the air. My steps were slow, and I couldn’t shake the nervousness that twisted in my stomach. Aylin led the way, her hand resting lightly on my arm, guiding me up the stairs. I glanced around the hallway as we walked—quiet, almost sacred in its simplicity.

When we reached the bedroom, I was met with a space that felt... warm, yet intimate. Someone had taken the time to make it special—the soft glow of lamps, the fresh flowers resting on the bedside table, the delicate fabric of the curtains swaying lightly in the evening breeze. Everything was subtle but beautiful.

Aylin paused at the doorway, turning to me with a gentle, almost hesitant expression. "I’m sorry," she said, her voice low. "I wish our parents could’ve been here today. It feels wrong... without them."

I could hear the hurt in her voice, the unspoken weight of family issues pressing on her heart. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I had thought about their absence, too, but standing there with Aylin, I realized that I wasn’t alone.

"It’s okay," I said softly, offering her a small smile. "You’re here. That’s enough for me." And in that moment, it was. Aylin had been so kind, and right now, her presence felt like more than enough. She nodded, relief flickering in her eyes.

We stood together in a moment of quiet, the kind that lingers when words aren’t needed. Then Aylin, ever thoughtful, began to remove my hijab, her fingers carefully untying the fabric. She watched as my hair fell loose around her shoulders. Her own hair was already done—long, wavy strands cascading down her back, held with delicate pins.

Aylin walked over to me, her fingers brushing against my hair, tucking loose strands behind my ear. "Let me fix this for you one last time," she said, her voice tender, as though she was preparing me for something bigger than I had expected.

She adjusted the veil and the few flowers nestled in my hair, her touch light but reassuring. "You look beautiful," she whispered, stepping back to admire her work. There was something in her voice that made my heart swell. This was more than just a gesture–it was a sister’s love, a quiet act of care.

After a final squeeze of my hand, Aylin gave me a soft smile, and without another word, she exited the room, leaving me alone.

The stillness in the air felt heavy, yet my heart was racing. I looked around the room again, but now it felt different. I wasn’t waiting for just anyone; I was waiting for Mustafa–my husband. That thought still felt surreal.

I heard his footsteps before I saw him, and my breath caught in my throat. When he finally entered the room, he was calm, collected, though I noticed the way his eyes softened when they met mine. For a moment, neither of us said a word. He simply crossed the room and sat beside me on the edge of the bed.

The silence between us was thick with everything unsaid. I could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, feel the gentle breeze through the window, but all I could focus on was him. His presence filled the room in a way I couldn’t describe.

I wanted to speak, to tell him everything I had buried deep inside my heart, but I didn’t know where to start. My hand moved before I could think, reaching out to grasp his sleeve. The fabric felt warm under my fingers, grounding me in this moment. I felt him stiffen slightly at the unexpected touch, and I saw his gaze shift to me, confused.

But before he could say anything, I felt the sting of tears burning my eyes, and then, one escaped. I watched as it trailed down my cheek, and I didn’t try to stop it. Mustafa’s expression shifted. Concern, surprise, something I couldn’t quite place.