He was driving directly beneath the glare of the bright sun, dropping the visor down before he switched to fourth gear. "I can't drive a manual car."

He looked to the side, surprised to hear her talk. They had been quiet for most of the drive to the hall and he didn't think she would actually break it. "Hmm?"

"I can't drive manual." She admitted again, watching him shift gears between fourth to third as he started to slow down once again. "I got my license with an automatic. Driving manual stressed me out."

"My cousin Talha bribed his instructor into giving him a manual license on an automatic car."

Saudah's eyes widened, "You can do that? I mean I still bought my license but I didn't think you could do that."

"He's..." Riyaadh struggled for a euphemism to describe his cousin, "He's interesting."

"Sounds like it." She adjusted the collar of her deep navy dress, irritated at the way it chafed against the skin of her neck. "Did you buy yours?" she asked, curiously.

"Nope," he turned to look at her, smiling at the disbelief on her face. "And I got it first time round, too."

"Now you're just showing off." She clicked her tongue, turning the other cheek to look out the window, entirely ignorant to the way he smiled at her theatrics.

"Maybe." He mumbled, turning back to look at the road, finally reaching the highway. He couldn't deny the fact that Saudah looked beautiful in her dress. He was struck dumb when she walked out of her cousin's bedroom in that navy creation. He never favoured the colour but, there and then, he knew that the colour navy was made just for her. She balanced on delicate looking heels, carrying a matching clutch as her only accessory along with the wedding ring he had given her the day before. But it was her face that truly did it for him- her lips were coated in deep, deep, deep red lipstick that he was sure she felt shy to wear.

She really was very beautiful but...

His mind still pulled to the woman before her.

Their ride to the Walimah reception was much different. He was much younger. He had barely turned 19 when he married her, much to everyone's surprise. Farhana was older than him by two and a half years and no one knew a thing about her. She didn't even have a family.

She was alone and she loved him for giving her what she had wanted for such a long time.

He had given her something to call her own. She didn't care that the wedding dress she wore was some cheap creation from the middle of town neither did she care about the fact that she towered over him in her heels. She was just happy to be with him. He remembered her laughing...

God, she laughed so much. He was so madly in love with Farhana's laugh.

He wasn't sure how she did it but she had sneaked a giant slab of chocolate into her bag, feeding him little blocks as they drove and when they had gotten to the hall, she actually looked surprised to see the entire slab gone. She waited for him to open her door, hugging him closely to her- entirely ignorant to the eyes on them. He was never into public affection but Farhana made it easy to forget. She hugged him as if she had never wanted to let go- craving his touch as she pressed herself as close to him as possible. He could still remember the way she smelled- like red roses and baby powder.

"Riyaadh!"

"What?" he looked to Saudah, startled at her loud yell.

"You missed the turn-off." She replied, cautiously. It was odd watching him- watching the expressions on his face as his thoughts changed direction from one to the next. Yet throughout it all, his grip had only tightened closer and closer around the steering wheel, till his knuckles were so white that she could no longer see the skin above it.

"Oh." He looked to the side, surprised to note the unfamiliar posters and signs. "I'm sorry." He shook his head, looking around him for routers. "It might be a while till the next turn-off." He said awkwardly, knowing that she was baffled. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Her smile was tight, confused. "It's not a big deal." She sat back against the seat, thrown off at the tense atmosphere that had settled over them. She didn't understand why it had happened but it just felt as if something was off. Their silence was heavy now, too heavy for her and she felt stifled within it.

Slowly reaching forward, she fiddled with the buttons before tuning the radio to anything that drowned out the silence, anything.

***

"Seriously." Riyaadh's brother was waiting for him at the entrance to the hall, looking him up and down. "You're late to your own Walimah." Fayaaz's right eyebrow lifted as he inspected Riyaadh once more. "Is it bec-"

"Don't." Riyaadh simply cut him off, brushing past him as his uncle stood up to greet him.

"What, how." Fayaaz followed him, happily grating on his nerves. "It's a valid question." Riyaadh simply ignored him, happy to pretend as if his younger brother just didn't exist. "Anyway, Dad was looking for you."

For all his shit, Fayaaz was his best friend. No doubt about that.

"Where's he?"

"Last I saw, with Uncle Nazeer looking for Mickey again." Fayaaz grinned, knowing full well where their cousin was not.

"Did they check by the woman's side?" Riyaadh grinned, only too aware of their cousin standing at the large door, glaring craters into his back.

"I don't know why I came down from Cape Town for this shit..." Mikaeel grumbled walking past his cousin without so much as a nod in his direction. Fayaaz simply carried on as if their cousin hadn't just interrupted them, raising his eyebrow as their younger sister tottered into the hall.

"What is that?"

"Seriously, Fayaaz?" Faariah looked up at him, daring him to call her out in the middle of the packed hall. "They're heels. Perhaps you've heard of the term before."

"What do you want to do with heels. You tall enough, Faari." He crossed his arms, bearing down at her as if it would help him in their battle of wills.

"They look good." She replied, snarkily, only too used to her older brother's bullshit.

"What do you know about good. You're a twit. You'll fall and die, just now."

"I won't fall and die." Faariah sighed, rubbing her forehead at his dramatics.

"Just saying..." Fayaaz shrugged. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"Not that it's your business," she huffed, flicking her hair in his direction, "I came to see how my actual brother is doing."

"Oh, like I'm adopted." Fayaaz stated, affronted. "Besides, if anyone was adopted in this family, it would be Riyaadh."

Riyaadh simply lifted his eyebrow, stepping back for a second. "How am I even involved?"

"Anyway!" Faariah shouted just a little too loudly, if her uncle looking up at her from the other end of the hall was anything to go by... "I just came to say Hi!" she perked right back up, beaming at Riyaadh.

"Hi Faari." He smiled back down, wrapping his arm around her waist. "You missed me, ne."

"Ya..." she cast her eyes downwards, watching her toes wiggle in her heels, "There was no one to clear my level for me last night."

"Ya, Fayaaz sucks more than you do." He turned his head to the left, catching Saudah's eye as she watched him from her place in the second hall... he could feel his neck heat up as she smiled at him, knowing full well that his aunties were privy to their little moment. He flashed her a small smile, before turning away towards the main table where his cousins were seated. Even he had to admit that his mother had done a beautiful job with the hall. He had known for a fact that the female's side was a lot more opulent than the male's. As rich as they were, she refused to spend money for shit and decorating a hall where men wouldn't appreciate it, definitely counted as shit.

"You look good though, Riyaadh." Her unusual serious tone caused him to really look at her. He hadn't thought about how his marriage to Farhana might have affected her. He was selfish, he supposed. He hadn't considered that Faariah would have noticed the change in him but she had. She had watched her brother transform into a stranger she would never recognise and she hated it. She detested the weight he had lost when he was married to her or the fact that he always smelt like a bloody ashtray whenever she happened to see him away from home. She never mentioned that fact to their mother, though. But it wasn't that that truly frightened her. It was the fact that his eyes always looked glassy. He tried to cover it up but he always looked as if he simply wasn't there. He was somewhere else away from them and she didn't know where he was.

She never, ever told him that she was glad he divorced Farhana. There was something wrong with her and she didn't want that woman to be in any way a part of his life.

"Thanks, Faari." He tweaked her nose gently, recoiling as she punched him hard in the ribs.

"My make-up, Riyaadh!"

"Sorry." He grinned, entirely unapologetically, before ruffling up her hair. 

He chucked before she could grab hold of him once more and truly inflict damage upon him.