Healing Her Soul

DO NOT PLAGIARIZE MY WORK
have some conscience and write your own..

I first saw her at my brother's wedding. She was the decorator and catering server, commanding the event with a sharp gaze, barking orders at the workers, and making sure every detail was perfect for my brother's big day. Dressed in formal suits with a headscarf that never once slipped and prayers that were never missed.

Her appearance screamed professionalism, and it was clear she wasn't someone who would take anyone's nonsense. She was the epitome of woman empowerment, even as people whispered behind her back, judging her for being a working woman, let alone running a successful business in our small, conservative hometown where women didn't have much freedom. Watching her break all the stereotypes made my heart race like it had never before.

Every time she yelled at someone, I got goosebumps. Every time she dashed around, I had to fight the urge to chase after her. She was a woman straight out of my dreams, strong, pious, kind, and held her ground. She would screech orders one moment and then, shove containers into the workers' hands, reminding them to fill their stomachs.

Then I found out she was family, well, sort of. She was the divorcee of a distant cousin from my mother's side. That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks... but it strangly relieved me. I know I sound like a jerk, but I couldn't help the flicker of happiness I felt, knowing I still had a chance.

But just as I started dreaming, my hope took an unexpected turn when a tiny, adorable toddler ran up to her, calling out,
"Mama, I wan jwice (juice) too"

Despite her past, my feelings didn't waver. I am a stubborn man, and when I say she will be mine, then it's going to happen. And that tiny ball of fluff? He's just the cherry on top.