I walked down the white hallways filled with the smell of bleach and chlorine. The lights above were too bright, too luminescent. I can't think. I can't look straight. I can't breathe. Everything was blurry. I touched my cheeks and felt tears cascade down to my chin. My steps faltered. My heart wouldn't stop beating out of my chest. "I'm sorry Nouran." She had looked at me sadly, eyes filled with emptiness. No, no, no. What am I going to do? What am I going to tell him? Him. Izhar. I can't breathe.... Allah. •|#1 in Spiritual on February 20th, 2016 // March 26th, 2016 // May 20th, 2016 // June 25th, 2016 // July 3rd, 2016 // July 13th, 2016 // July 28th, 2016 // August 2nd, 2016 // August 13th, 2016 // December 28th, 2016 // January 21st, 2017 // January 27th, 2017 // March 23rd, 2017|• ||1 million reads as of May 12th, 2017|| ||2 million reads as of September 15th, 2018|| ||3 million reads as of July 15th, 2020|| ||A Wattpad Featured Story as of August 11th, 2017|| ||100K votes as of February 20th, 2018||

Houssam Shaykh is living the dream. He is a big sought after basketball star who has his pick of teams, is recognized wherever he goes, makes millions per game, and gets to play his favorite sport for a living. He is even being called the 'Muslim Michael Jordan'. But he has a void that he can't seem to fill, no matter how many screaming fans chant his name. When he goes back home after a long season and decides to throw himself into volunteer work, will he find a shot at finding what he's seeking? Hana Ismail sees life through the lens of her camera. She loves to create memories for others to hold dear, but often wishes that she gets to experience them for herself. When she gets chosen to start a Masjid newspaper, and ends up doing a profile on none other than their very own celebrity, will she have a shot at her own happiness?

Her heart was beating so fast and her stomach ached so bad. She knew this was it, this was her fate being sealed. " Zhulfah Bint Ilyas? " It would be weird to ask the Imam a question like " Hey look. There was a really nice old friend of my dad's pestering me to be his third wife and I didn't want to go to Ogbomosho and his proposal came along and everything kinda rushed from there, so does that mean I was in my sane mind when I said...yes?" Surely some level of insanity meant she wasn't sure, right? Must the question be a yes or no answer? Can't it just be a maybe? Something along the lines of ' maybe I'll marry him 'cuz my heart is kinda telling me to but my brain's answer isn't forthcoming?' Wait...does that even make any sense? " Zhulfah Bint Ilyas? " She hadn't had breakfast but she felt like she downed a whole packet of laxatives with the way her stomach danced weirdly. " Zhulfah... " " Yes! Yes! Yes! I do! I do!" She said a bit too loudly into the mic, and was instantly filled with regret. She heard her best friend chuckle lightly behind her and she wanted nothing more than to give her a good beating. She glanced over at her husband to be in a few minutes, and her face heated up when she caught him smiling amusingly. " I mean", She cleared her throat. " I do...accept him as...as..my husband." " Well, I think I'll have to speed up the event and legalize these two", The Imam joked and the whole congregation burst into laughter. Zhulfah's face warmed up several degrees, and she was so sure her face would be burnt before the end of that day with the way she was blushing to a severe degree. The Imam was still laughing, and she knew it won't look like a joke much longer if she had a scissors to his beard.