Chapter 15

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Layla was ready, her makeup and outfit perfectly done. Amina was nearly finished, and soon they both stepped outside to wait for Zayd to pick them up. After about five minutes, he arrived, with his bodyguards in formation behind him. As Zayd's gaze fell on Amina in her traditional Indian attire, he paused. Though her face was covered, something about her presence drew his attention, his eyes reflecting a hint of what seemed like admiration—at least, that's what Amina thought she saw.

"Brother, you can check her out after we get home. She's all yours," Layla teased, her tone playful. "Now, we're running late for the reception, and you still have to get ready." She shot Amina a wink, only adding to her friend's flustered state.

Zayd quickly looked away, muttering, "Shut up, Layla," as he took his seat at the wheel, refusing to meet Amina's gaze. Amina lowered her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks as she silently prayed, Ya Allah, please send the Angel of Death already.

They settled into the car, and without another word, Zayd drove them home, their convoy of bodyguards following close behind.

They arrived home, and Zayd went straight to his room to get ready for the reception.

Mrs. Sarah came over and hugged both girls. "Mashallah, meri betiyan kitni khubsurat dikh rahi hain! Meri betiyon ko kisi ki nazar na lage," she said, admiring them.

["Mashallah, my daughters look so beautiful! May no evil eye fall upon my daughters,"]

"Mom, what did you just say? Please translate! How many times do I have to tell you I don't understand Urdu?" Layla grumbled, clearly annoyed.

Amina and Mrs. Sarah laughed at her expression, amused by her whining. "I'm serious!" Layla said, folding her arms in mock seriousness, which only made them laugh more.

"Shukriya, Mom. Aap bhi bahut khubsurat dikh rahi hain, hamesha ke tarah," Amina replied to Mrs. Sarah in Urdu, intentionally teasing Layla further. Layla huffed and walked away, pretending to be angry, which made them laugh even harder.

["Thank you, Mom. You also look very beautiful, as always,"]

Just then, a deep voice interrupted their moment. "Asalamu Alaikum, Aunty." Amina turned, noticing that Layla had blushed slightly at the sound, which left her puzzled. She and Mrs. Sarah turned to the source of the voice and saw a man in his mid-twenties, about Zayd's age. He was tall, with warm brown skin, and long, straight hair that brushed his broad shoulders.

"Walekum Asalam, beta. How are you?" Mrs. Sarah greeted him warmly, smiling. "And where were you yesterday? How could you miss your best friend's wedding?" she said, feigning anger.

"I'm fine, Aunty. Actually, I was in India for some important work. Besides, he got married so suddenly, it shocked me!" he replied, placing a hand on his chest dramatically.

"Chal, dramebazz," Mrs. Sarah chuckled. "Meet your bhabhi, Mrs. Amina Zayd."

["Come on, drama queen,"]

Saad turned to Amina and greeted her, "Asalamu Alaikum, Bhabhi. I'm Saad—Zayd's best friend. Or, as I like to say, his bestest friend."

"Walekum Asalam," Amina replied, smiling. She couldn't help but notice how comfortable and humorous he was, so she asked curiously, "Aapko Urdu aati hai?"

["Do you know Urdu?"]

"Shayad haan..." he replied, pretending to think it over, which made Amina chuckle.

["Maybe, yes..."]

As they chatted, Saad's gaze shifted to Layla, who was standing a little further away. His eyes softened, and Amina noticed his expression shift as he looked at her, his admiration obvious. Taking note of his reaction, she made a mental note to talk to Layla about it later.

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