"Hey, have you guys seen my shoes?"

Haroon and Humaid exchanged amused glances with one another, eyes twinkling and lips curved into wide grins, expressions endowed with mirth as their soft chuckles escaped them.

The three walked out of the masjid together, but Nicholas couldn't seem to find his brand name shoes, ones he specifically bought for his Nikkah. The twins could not stop laughing, and the male guests that passed him hid their secret smiles, knowing glints entering their eyes.

His brows furrowed. "I feel like I'm missing something very important," he said, glancing uneasily between the Younes twins. "I'm very lost right now."

Walking out of the masjid, his father-in-law deeply sighed at the realization, at the long held tradition the Younes siblings implemented with the help of their close friends, specifically Dina's. Not knowing how to help Nicholas, he simply sighed, patting his back with an apologetic smile, which only confused Nicholas more.

"I hope you brought some cash with you," his father-in-law said, biting back his own smile. "You're going to need it."

"Cash?" croaked Nicholas with a slight crack to his voice. "Would someone please tell me what's going on?"

Humaid slung an arm around his shoulder, winking. "Oh, sport," he laughed, shaking his head at the helpless white man's innocence. "Don't you know the best desi tradition known to mankind?"

"The only kind of tradition you ever need," added Haroon, a coy smile playing on his lips, hazel eyes warm with jest.

Nicholas scowled, pushing Humaid's arm off and scoffing. "It can't be the best if I don't know about it."

Humaid chuckled. "On the day of the Nikkah, the bride's friends arrange for children to steal the groom's shoes while he prays."

His blue eyes widened with disbelief. "How do I get them back?" he spluttered in horror. I can't walk around with no shoes. I paid good money for those!

This time, the twins exchanged nervous glances with one another. Their brows furrowing at one another as if they were having a secret conversation with facial expression alone, their bond proving to be deeper than he originally thought. When Nicholas cleared his throat to grab their attention, the two men almost winced.

"You pay for them..." trailed off Haroon, looking everywhere but at Nicholas. "Well, there's more to it than that."

"Oh?"

"Humaid, tell him."

Sighing, Humaid stuffed his hands into his golden kurta or panjabi (traditional Bengali outfit for men) in Bangla. "I hate when you do this to me," he muttered under his breath before smiling widely. "Now, don't freak out on me, sport. Her friends and our little sister are going to ask for some cash before you get your shoes back and see your wife."

Nicholas sent him a blank stare.

"Don't look at me like that," said Humaid, laughing. "Relax, all our wallets are about to go broke for you."

"I somehow feel like I deserved to know this before I came here," said Nicholas, half joking as he dug into his trousers for his wallet. He sifted through his cash. "I have about two hundred on me. Is this enough?"

"You better pray to Allah it is. I'm trying to save my money," joked Humaid.

Haroon nudged him. "Play nice. He's our brother-in-law."

At that point, Nicholas realized why his father-in-law gave him an apologetic smile. These desi Muslims knew how to party, how to raise the bride on her throne, how to enjoy themselves without intoxication. Knowing these small games they played on the groom opened his eyes to how different cultures had different traditions, how Muslims could party without the temptation of alcohol.

This was a game, one that involved everyone, one that included children in their innocence, one that put a spotlight on the bride and groom. Through this game, the groom was expected to show his devotion, to do anything to see his bride, his new partner in life. Although the tradition seemed sophomoric and foolish, in desi culture, it wasn't.

It was fun. Sometimes fun derived from foolishness, but the underlying meaning always held weight. In his case, his missing shoes were just another obstacle to the rest of his life, and he would gladly partake in the tradition.

He shrugged. "When you can't beat them, join them. I'm pretty sure that's the old saying."

"That's what I'm talking about!" cheered Humaid. "Let's go."

When the trio made their way to the main hall, Nicholas was astonished to see the decorations that matched their outfits, the dimmed lights that illuminated the draped halls, a smooth blend of reflective silver drapes like diamonds, lavender tabletops, party favors, and ribbons lined the walls, his name beside Dina's, their wedding, their Nikkah.

A divider separated males from females, a stage on both sides. His eyes savored the soft, heartening look of their hall, the red carpets made him feel like a celebrity, the laughter of the audience, a sign of acceptance, a sense of belonging. The beauty of a Muslim wedding erased cultural differences because in the eyes of Allah, they were all the same, no matter the color, no matter the past.

Before Nicholas could step further, a silky ribbon halted his steps, and immediately Dina's friends blocked his path. Among the few was Kiona, a cheeky smile on her lips along with a band of Muslim girls, devious glints in their dark eyes. Nicholas gulped, intimidated by their fierce gazes.

"How much do you want?" he sighed, grabbing his wallet.

One of the girls glanced at the tiny Younes sibling, Dunya. Like her sister, she had the same sparkling brown eyes, a childhood glee permanently igniting her joy, the veils of purity wrapped around her like the way her hijab protected her in the outside world. Dina and Dunya matched to the best of their abilities with Dunya wearing a glittery silver hijab, a metallic shine challenging the beauty of every decoration, every drape, every young girl and a long, pale purple dress, a new Bengali style.

A little sister. My sister-in-law. A new part of my family.

Nicholas smiled, bending down to meet her eyes. "I hear that you're trying to extract some money out of me," he joked lightly, raising an arched brow at her. "Mind telling me the details?"

Dunya instantly brightened, giggling behind her hand. "Well," she started, holding her hand out, "I need some compensation for you to spend time with my sister."

"I'm her husband."

"So what?" challenged Dunya. "I'm her little sister, her only sister."

Nicholas chuckled. "Fine. Name your price, and I got it covered, little one."

"One hundred?" she asked, shyly, but the older girls behind her shook their heads, a chorus of voices urging her to take more.

Dunya didn't pay them any attention, keeping her gaze on him. From behind the crowd of Muslim girls, he saw Dina staring at them with fascination, glancing at Nicholas with fear of how he might react to their fun traditions. Nicholas knew she was worried, but she had no reason to be.

He accepted every part of her when he asked for her hand.

"Ask for more," he whispered to Dunya. "I don't mind."

"Two hundred," she bargained, holding her small fingers to indicate the number.

"You sure you don't want more?" he tried again.

Humaid's hand slapped his shoulder. "Don't tempt her," he hissed. "I don't wanna go broke like you."

Nicholas shook his head, standing to his feet. "Two hundred it is," he said, pulling out two Benjamins from his wallet and handing it to Dunya.

"Thank you, Bhaiyah (brother)!" she yelled excitedly as she ran off towards her older sister.

From across the room, Dina met his bright, blue ones, warmth filling him at the gentle smile that beckoned him to her, the alluring spark that lulled him closer to his new future, his new life as a married man. Without realizing, he began walking towards her, ignoring the gasps and awe that floated among the women.

She stole the air from his lungs, infiltrated the walls of his heart, buried his soul under her love. She consumed his every thought, and he loved the sweet torture of true love. Knowing that they had struggled with desire and temptation, pain and heartbreak to this point made every battle for their love worth it.

His wife. She was his everything.

----

I wanted to add more, but nah.

Honestly, with one month of school, I have so much work ;-; I'm sorry the updates haven't been every week.

Luckily my last exam is May 14th. WE CAN GET THROUGH THIS.

What did you think of Nicholas being so accepting towards these hilarious traditions? Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow!