As a month passed, my exams finally came to an end, bringing a wave of relief and a sense of accomplishment.
I had promised Nashid that I would meet his parents, a promise that now loomed over me with both eagerness and dread. Would they like me? Would I make a good impression? These questions buzzed in my mind as I prepared for the meeting.
Our conversations had become a comforting routine, with Nashid always reassuring me and lifting my confidence when doubts crept in.
"I'm nervous about this, Nashid," I confessed one afternoon, the weight of my insecurities spilling into our phone call.
"But I promise you, everything will be fine." He replied. He always seem confident with everything he does.
We chatted back and forth, easing each other's nerves, and I was grateful for his support.
As the day of the visit approached, I told him, "I'll come to your house. You don't have to pick me up."
I'd never been to his home, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would look.
"Are you sure? I can pick you up if you want," he replied, concern threading through his words.
"No, really. I want to do this on my own," I insisted, feeling a surge of independence.
"Alright then. But let me know when you're close, okay? I want to make sure you get here safely," he said.
As the day arrived, I found myself pacing in my room, anxiety swirling around me. I dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that felt comfortable yet presentable.
The drive to Nashid's house felt longer than it actually was, each passing minute heightening my anticipation.
When I finally pulled into the driveway of his house, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.
I stepped out of the car, glancing around at the modest but charming home that Nashid had grown up in. It looked warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside me.
As I approached the front door, my heart raced. I rang the bell, and the sound echoed in the stillness. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Nashid's smiling face.
"Assalamualaikum" his voice a blend of excitement and relief.
"Waalaikumsalam" I said, my nerves beginning to settle as I took in his familiar presence.
"Come on in," he said, stepping aside to let me enter.
As I crossed the threshold, I was greeted by the soft scent of spices and home-cooked food. The interior was cozy, adorned with family photographs and warm lighting that created an inviting atmosphere. I could hear laughter coming from the kitchen, where I assumed his parents were preparing a meal.
Nashid took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Are you ready?"
I nodded, though my stomach fluttered with anticipation. "I think so."
We walked further into the house, and as we approached the kitchen, I felt my heart race. Would they like me? What would they think of our relationship?
But as Nashid called out to his parents, I was struck by how much warmth radiated from his family.
"Mom! Dad! Look who's here!" he announced, his pride evident.
His mother turned, her face lighting up with a smile as she caught sight of me.
"Assalamualaikum" i said.
YOU ARE READING
When We Were Us (#1 Romance)
Любовные романы"We Were Us" is a poignant novel that explores the complexities of love and heartbreak between Noor Imani and Nashid Tariq. At that moment, each believed their love was merely a passing breeze, a chapter that would never return. Noor, "Why do you h...
