As One - From The As Series

The Ideal Therapy | 4

Already there and seated, were their families, their siblings and parents, but their was something missing - or rather someone, Uthman's grand-mére. "Good morning, everyone!" the couple greeted their family, hand in hand.

"Good morning!" they happily greeted back. What caught Fatima, his sister, off guard, was their locked hands. She looked at Ruqaiyah, giving her, what-the-hell-is-that look. She only shrugged, a small smile gracing her lips.

Being the gentleman he already is, Uthman pulled one of the chair out of the table, letting Ruqaiyah to get comfortably seated before he did in the seat right beside her. Wageeha gave Ruqaiyah a small, grateful smile before her eyes glanced at her son with a weak one.

Zakaria gestured at the table, telling everyone to start eating and so, they started. Ali was the one who broke the silence by asking, "So Akhi, did you have a good sleep, last night?" He shook his head, "No, it wasn't good. It was the best sleep I ever had."

Fatima chuckled at her brother's choice of words. "That's great, my dear, I'm glad to hear that coming from you," his mother said.

"What did my daughter do to make you have the best, then? Could you please elaborate in more details?" Deena, her mother asked in amusement. Uthman smirked clearly knowing where the conversation would be heading.

"Well, Ammah, first, your daughter held my hand then, when I became drowsy, she started massaging my temple. And once I was close to sleeping, she started tracing my chest with her head listening to the lullaby my heart did," he explained.

By that point, Ruqaiyah was beetroot red. "Baba, is this how you raised us?" Hamza, her thirteen years old of a brother added. Her father replied, "Wallah, ya ibni; no, it isn't how I raised my children!" Ruqaiyah groaned.

Ringing doorbells were the only thing that saved her from more embarrassment. Retrieving it, she opened the door, finding Aammu Zakaria's mother, grandma Juwayriyya behind it.

Juwayriyya pulled her grand-daughter into a bone crushing hug that took her by surprise. "As-salamu'alaikum, habibti! I missed you," she said, kissing her face. "I missed you, too, Gran! Why don't you come in for breakfast?"

Without the need of thinking twice, Juwayriyya entered, greeting everyone with kisses all over their face. She isn't an old looking woman she rather looks young to be a grandmother thanks to her young marriage to her late husband, Adeel at the age of eighteen while he was twenty-six of age, eight years older.

Weird, right?

But that didn't matter, all that mattered was that they got their parents approval and blessing to their marriage.

Seated, the grandmother whispered to her son, "Did you tell him the news?" Zakaria shook his head, no. "Then, what are you waiting for? Tell him!" Zakaria cleared his throat, "Uthman?" His son hummed in response, looking up from his plate.

"We decided to let you have a private psychotherapist to help you and -" "No!" he bumped his on the table. "Pardon?" Standing up, he exploded, "I said, NO! There's no way I'm going to have the psychotherapist and -" Ruqaiyah butted herself in, her hand on his bicep, trying to calm him down, "Here him out Uthman. Maybe he has a reason to why he is doing so?"

Reluctantly, he sat back down with clenched jaws and fists. Zakaria took that as a chance to continue, "We talked about it for quite some time, but we decided to make it official, yesterday. Don't worry, Ruqaiyah will be your psychotherapist thanks to her parent's suggestion especially since she's the only one who understands you more."

Uthman shared a glance with Ruqaiyah. She nodded at him in encouragement. He sighed, nodding in approval. At least he would have an ideal therapy with her.

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~Glossary~
(Bold = Arabic / Normal = Meaning)

Akhi: Brother

Ammah: Aunt

Baba: Dad or father

Wallahi, ya ibni: I swear to Allah, my son

Aammu: Uncle

As-salamu'alaikum: Peace be upon you

Habibti: My love