Epiphany

7:

- Hadia - 

Haida's journal ~

How is it in life? The things that we run away from are the same things that always find us and ruin our lives. I remember Mama saying that sometimes running away from our fears and problems only makes us less stronger than facing those fears and getting stronger. 

But sometimes, I find myself lost and confused. No matter how brave I'll try to be, I feel like I'll always fail or mess up. I don't have time to think what's good for me, I need to work hard, so Ahmad and Aliza won't suffer like I am.

Gosh, imagine they find out I'm getting married tomorrow for money... what would they think of me? How has this day come so quickly. Here I'm sitting in my room, confused. I'm not sure if i should be laughing or crying at my situation. 

Any normal girl would be excited or even nervous for her big day, while I'm here wondering what's going to happen next? How am I going to deal with everything? What will I do after a year goes by? 

Deep breathes Hadia, Deep breathes - Just need to survive this one day at a time. 

- The next day - 

I nervously pace in my room. It was half two now. Mr. Mustafa said he would arrive by three with the imam and some guests. 

I kept glancing at my watch. It was the last gift from Mama before she left us for good. I wish she was here on this day. She always wanted to see me get married. I laughed, this all just for a year, then I'll be on my own again. 

I sighed, looking at the mirror. My own reflection looked so foreign. My siblings thought it was a good idea to get me a really expensive dress as a wedding gift.

And I love the outfit. It was a beige lehenga with a short beige top and a dupatta, all done with a light amount of detailing.

I had decided to wear my hijab and pin my dupatta to my hijab. I had a few jewelry that mama had saved up for this day, although I was really just hoping for a 'signing papers, saying I do and moving on' but right now Ahmad and Aliza would find it to suspicious and I don't want to them to know this all just for our personal gains.

I sighed as my bedroom door opened, reviling Aliza. 'They're here, api.' she said, walking to me and hugging me. 'I wish Mama was here to see you.' She said, I sighed, 'I wish she was here too.' She smiled sadly, looking at me, 'ready?' she asked, 'as I'll ever be.' I replied, trying to hide my nervous anxiety and anxiety I felt at the moment.  

Aliza had helped me out to the living room. Ahmad and Aliza spent their whole day decorating it for me, hanging flowers and lights in the house, along with balloons in the corner. I was sat down on the couch opposite Mr. Mustafa. 

I peeked up to see. He, he was in a beige suit, with his hair combed back, and it looked like he got his breaded trimmed and cleaned up. All this effort for a fake wedding, I thought. 

After the imam went through with the Nikkah ceremony and we both had signed, we were officially husband and wife. 

After I had gotten a few pictures with my siblings, I quickly excused myself and escaped into my room. I sighed as I was looking out the window. I felt presence behind me as the door of my bedroom opened and then closed. I turned, only to see Mr. Mustafa standing by the door, awkwardly looking back at me. 

'Congratulations on the wedding.' he said nonchalantly, 'Same to you.' I replied. We awkwardly stood there, stealing glances from each other. 

After what felt like an eternity standing there, I finally stepped back, sitting on my bed. He looked around my room. My room was probably nothing he was used to, it was small and was pretty much bare. 

I used to share this room with mama, after her, the room lost any emotions. Any decorations were there from when Mama had decorated it, I couldn't manage myself to remove anything.

I heard Mr. Mustafa cough, which took me out of my thought. 'Well, I'll take my leave now. I'll see you on Monday?' He said. I nodded. I turned to the door, 'I'll walk you out.' I , aid getting up behind him. 

As we both left my room, we could see my siblings setting up dinner. 'Where are you guys going?' Aliza asked. 'I was heading out now.' Mr. Mustafa replied. 'Right now? Today?' Aliza asked, looking at him, Ahmad had the same look. 'He has something very urgent to go to,' I quickly said.

'More urgent than your wedding day?' Ahmad questioned now. 'Something like that.' Mr. Mustafa answered unsure. 'So will you not stay for dinner?' Aliza asked. I looked at him, wondering what he would say, as he turned to look at me and then my siblings. 

He nodded, 'I'll stay for dinner.' he replied. As he sat down, but siblings sat in front of him, leaving me the only seat beside him. I sat down as we started having dinner. 

After dinner, Aliza was cleaning up the plates, while Ahmad brought out a box and placed it in front of us. I looked at him confused as he smiled. Aliza smiled, bringing a knife. 'Open it.' they said to us. Mr. Mustafa opened the box. 

It was a beautiful cake, I unknowingly smiled looking at it. At the same time, my siblings flashed a camera, taking pictures of us. Then, giving us a knife, they told us to cut it. I took the knife, hoovering it over the cake, 'Mustafa bhai, you have to cut the cake with api. She isn't the only one who got married.' Aliza commented. 

'Right.' Mr. Mustafa agreed, placing his hand on top of mine. I froze. Mr. Mustafa's hand rested on mine. His touch felt warm and steady against the cool metal of the knife beneath our fingers. A jolt of awareness shot through me, and I could feel my pulse quickened, the soft weight of his hand making it impossible to ignore his presence.

 I swallowed hard, unsure if it was the act of cutting the cake or the sudden closeness that made my chest tighten. "Alright, say cheese!" Aliza chirped, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts. The camera flashed again, capturing what probably looked like a perfectly coordinated moment. But inside, I was a mess, a hurricane of emotions I couldn't quite understand.

Mr. Mustafa leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing mine. The subtle movement sent a shiver down my spine. His cologne, clean with a faint hint of sandalwood, wrapped around me, making it even harder for me to focus.

"Shall we?" he murmured, his voice low and calm. It wasn't a question, not really. 

I nodded, barely trusting my voice. Together, we guided the knife through the layers of the cake. The cheers of my siblings filled the room as they clapped and giggled, but their excitement barely registered in my mind. All I could think about was the steady rhythm of Mr. Mustafa's hand over mine, the way his touch anchored me and, at the same time, set my nerves alight.

When we finished the first slice, he didn't immediately pull his hand away. Instead, his fingers brushed mine, a brief moment that might have meant nothing to him but left me feeling unsteady.

"Thank you for this," he said softly, his voice just loud enough for me to hear. There was something genuine in his tone, something that made my heart twist unexpectedly.

I glanced up at him, finding his dark eyes already on me. They held an intensity I wasn't ready for, an unspoken emotion that sent a flutter through my chest. It wasn't romantic, it couldn't be, but there was something there, something I couldn't quite name.

"You're welcome," I managed to reply, my voice quiet and careful, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment between us.

Before I could dwell on it any longer, my siblings swooped in, playfully snatching the slice of cake and running off with it. Mustafa chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, and I found myself smiling despite the knot of emotions tangled inside me.

As the room buzzed, I became aware of how close Mustafa still was, his presence grounding me in a way I hadn't expected. My hand tingled where his had been, and I wondered if he felt it too, the weight of something unspoken, something just beginning to stir. 

As his phone rang, we all looked toward Mr. Mustafa, who was busy looking at the ID caller. 'I apologize, but I really must leave now.' He said, looking between us and his phone. I was the first to react, 'Don't worry. I'll see you on Monday.' I said before my siblings could say anything. 

Quickly nodding, Mr. Mustafa got up and said his goodbyes as he left.