Sighing I entered my apartment. Today was exceptionally tiring at the hospital.

Wait, no I'm home now. Now I will rest. I think spending eighteen hours in the hospital; five days a week is enough to tire anyone.

I practically threw my bag on a couch in the living and darted with high speed in the shower. Nothing can beat exhaustion then a cold shower to renew the senses.

Stripping and throwing my clothes in the air, I jumped into the cascading shower.

"Ahh," I exclaimed in glee. The knots in my back opening and letting sweet relief wash over me. After washing up, I wrapped myself in a large towel, I stared at my reflection. I look horrible with large grey bags under my eyes and my skin dull and dry. Even the shower couldn't wash away my plain features. Or maybe I'm only thinking this way since a ceratin pair of dazzling blue eyes have been stuck in my head since yesterday. and headed inside my bedroom. Switching on the lights, I made my way to my laptop. Checking for any new updates, I decided to call it a night. Just as I was about to get into bed, my cell phone began to ring. Groaning, I picked it up. The call was from an unknown number. I think I know who it's from.

"Hello, Dr. Amber Zaid speaking,"

'Uh, ah yes hello, this is Zakriya Islam speaking," came a timid reply. My assumption was correct. All of a sudden, my heart started to race. Why is my heart racing? This is weird. Ignoring my fluttering heart, I tried to focus on the call.

"Yes, how may I help you, Mr. Islam?" I spoke formally.

"Zac is fine," he spoke, his voice deep and clear. It only made my heart race faster and what's more, even my hands were shaking. What's going on? Am I nervous? I haven't been this nervous since my first surgery.

Anyway, focus, focus Amber. You're an adult for God's sake; when did you start having these sorts of strange reactions towards the opposite sex? Even after performing so many vasectomies, why are you feeling like a teenager?

"I wanted to ask if I could meet with you tomorrow?" he inquired. That's very sudden. Did he come to a decision already?

"Alright. Although I have a very busy schedule tomorrow but I can meet with you. Can you come to Mount Sinai hospital?"

"Yeah, I have no problem." He replied, his voice deep and husky. I liked that.

"Alright then. I can meet with you at 3 a.m."

"Sounds perfect. I'll be there. See you there. Take care. Bye."

"Alright," I replied dryly and hung up. And to my surprise, my heart was racing still and my hands were still shaking. Maybe, it's a sign of my intuition. Maybe he's going to reject the marriage proposal.

If that's the case, then I should be happy. I mean, there is no way that a man like that, you is so good looking—what with his sandy blond hair and clear blue eyes and light brownish-blond beard could ever look good standing with a plain jae like me.

Anyways, that isn't the issue. The gap in our age is too much. How will I live in the typical parochial society of Pakistan if they ever came to know that my husband is younger then me?

However, for some reason, even if he does reject the proposal, why do I feel so disappointed and dejected? I should be glad, shouldn't I?

Yawning, I jumped into bed.

"Ah, who cares? I don't like him anyways." I said to myself and snuggled into my pillow. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.

**********

"Good Job Amber." Surgeon Jason remarked. I smiled. "I believe congratulations are in order." He said. My teacher has always been a generous man.

"Of course, why not sir. I'll have your favorite sherry delivered to your office later" I said. The old man grinned gleefully and headed out of the OPD. Although it's ashameful that I have to spend money of alcohol however, that man has treated me like his own daughter all these five years. He was the kind man who took me in his home when I first came to New York for my residency until I could afford my own apartment a year later. I was deeply indebted to him. He was very sad to know that I was leaving permanently for Pakistan.

But I was glad that he agreed to pay me a visit in Karachi later this year. As I headed for the wash basin, my back ached so much. After a three hour surgery of repairing a vertebral Hernia, my back was aching like that hernia was transferred to it or something. I glanced at the wall clock. I still had half an hour to get freshened up for my final eeting with Mr. Zakriya Islam.

I went to the doctor's lounge to take a shower and get dressed. I decided to wear a simple black Shalwar Kameez. After brushing my damp hair, I donned my dupatta securely around my head. After giving the order for Surg. Jason's Sherry to my assistant Melissa, I headed out of the hospital. There were still ten minutes left. I wore my shades as the summer sun shone full in the sky.

I went and sat on a bench near the entrance. The weather was so hot today. I was beginning to sweat.

Was it the weather or am I just nervous? Oh God, I am so confused.

"Hey, I hope I'm in time." I was startled when I saw Zakriya Islam approach me. I stood up and shook my head. He stood near me, tall and elegant—dressed in a simple white dress shirt and grey pants. Although his body wasn't built, but he looked lean and smart with his braod shoulders and manly waist. His sleeves were folded up till his elbows and he looked so good like that. Thank God I was wearing my shades otherwise he would've noticed that I was checking him out. His blue eyes sparkled and blond hair was glistening in the sun. to me, no one looked more handsome then him.

Wait? What?

What the hell am I thinking? He wasn't that handsome. Just because he's a gora (White man) we complexed Asians think that they are all handsome.

Fuck it, he isn't handsome. He's just an ordinary Caucasian.

"No," I breathed—realizing that I was holding in my breath.

"I hope I didn't make you wait too long." He said politely. Oh God please don't do this. Please don't sound so nice otherwise my disappointment might turn into regret.

"No of course not. Shall we go now?"I said briskly. He shrugged. "Alright. Wher are we going?" he inquired casually. I nodded. "There's a starbucks café by the corner. Let's go there." I suggested. He nodded and began following me there.

When we arrived, he opened the door for me. I was taken aback at first but then I quickly went inside. I don't know why I find his small acts of chivalry so charming? I mean this isn't the first time a man has held a door open for me. When it was our turn at the counter, he turned to me.

"So, what would you like?" he inquired.

"A black coffee." I said. He nodded and gave in the order. I was about to take out my card when he beat me to it and paid for the coffee.

"Hey, there's no need for that." I claimed.

"No it's alright. It's on me." He insisted and handed me my receipt. When we got our coffees, he held the cups and led the way to an empty table.

My, he certainly is a gentleman. No Pakistani man possessed as much good manners as he did. Or maybe it's just me.

"Here you are. Please wait." He said as he left the coffee on the table and went back to the counter. I sat down and crossed my legs. As I waited for him, I stared at my coffee. Removing my shades, I placed them in my handbag.

"Here," he said near me and brought a plate of brownie to my face. I frowned. "There was no need for that. I don't like chocolate." I asserted. He seemed shocked by my statement as his eyes widened a little.

"What kind of a woman doesn't like chocolate?" he inquired, his tone sounding humorous.

"I don't. I'm not every woman." I replied stoically and picked up my coffee.

"Well, from now onwards, I will help you to like chocolate." He stated and placed the plate on the table.

What is he getting at?

"What do you mean?" I asked. He sat opposite to be on and crossed his legs. "So, there is no point in beating around the bush. Before I say anything, I would lie to ask, are your terms negotiable?" he inquired.

I drank a sip as our eyes met. His were totally sincere."I though you weren't going to beat around the bush." I said. He smiled and raised a brow.

I cleared my throat and placed my coffee back. "No, none of them are negotiable." I replied staightly.

"I thought you might say so. And what if I break any condition? Will you immediately divorce me and sue me?" he inquired.

"Yes," I replied solemnly.

"I see," he mumbled and placed his fingers on his lips, looking down, his expression looking thoughtful.

"Alright then. I accept all your conditions. I accept this marriage proposal." He declared, his voice clear and unhindered.

If the cup had been in my hands I would've surely dropped it by now.

What? Is he serious? He actually accepted everything that I threw at him?

Now this is something.

I made sure not to let him notice my shock. In a composed manner, I picked up my cup and drank to moisture my lips and my dry throat.

"Knowing that these terms and conditions are nonnegotiable, you still accept me?" I inquired for affirmation.

"Yes, I do." He replied and smiled.

"Despite there being a three year age difference between us?"

"I have no problem with that." He said bluntly. Oh God but I do. However, if he has accepted the conditions then there's no reason rejecting him. I guess I have no chouce but to accept him as well.

"Alright then." I agreed.

"However," he started. "I would like to request one thing."

"And what is that?"

"I have a grandmother in a senior home here. I can't leave her here all alone. I need to make some preparations for her so I will need a month before I shift with you to Pakistan."he said. I nodded.

"I have no problem. And to ease your worry, I'll pay for your ticket to come and visit her any time you like." I offered. He smiled and leaned closer. The only reason I didn't offer to have him bring her with us was because I knew that for an old person, shifting in a new environment isn't easy. She's well off here.

"Thank you for the offer but I will manage." He replied. His tone sounded offended. I nodded. Maybe offering him that was a bad idea. He seems like a gairat-mand (Honest) person. I shouldn't have offered him such a stupid thing.

"So, when should we have the nikah?" I inquired.

He shrugged. "Any time is fine with me." He said.

'If that's the case, then is next Saturday fine?" I asked. He nodded. "Alright." I also nodded.

"Now, to complete the formality," he said, and came over to my side. He leaned in on one knee and brought out a ring from his pant pocket. Now my heart felt like it might explode. My cheeks quickly lighted up.

"May I have your hand please, my dear?" he said and I obeyed. He slipped in a simple ring on my left hand ring finger. And surprising, it was a perfect fit. "This is my grandmother's. she wanted me to give this to my wife." He said and we both stared at my hand. I thought that these type of things only happened in movies. I have to say, in a long time, this is one thing that is good and surprisingly pleasant that has happened to me.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." I murmured. He beamed at me and stood up. "May I sit with you, my lovely fiancée?" he asked for permission. I quickly scooted over to give him space. He sat beside me but maintained a good distance. However, he was too close to me and it made my heart beat faster.

"Now for this," he said and taking a fork full of the brownie, he brought it close to my mouth. "Say ahh," he articulated. I stared at him but opened my mouth a little. He gently placed the brownie in my mouth. I quickly caught the fork.

"Thank you," I said.

"You say thank you a lot. I think too much of that isn't good especially since you say it to your fiancé." He chuckled jocundly.

"Then what should I say to thank you?"

"You'll find out on Saturday." He said and shoved a fork full of brownie in his mouth. I simply stared at him.

So, this handsome, chivalrous gentleman is going to be my husband. Oh my God!

It seems so surreal. Will we even look good together? I mean, I'm a short, plain looking Pakistani girl with wheat colored skin and absolutely typical Asian features and he on the other hand—he's a handsome, tall guy with fair skin and light hair and eyes.

Oh God, I think it's going to be tough.

**********

The week passed and Saturday came.

I was dressed in a simple designed red kurta with a fully embroidered dupatta and faded gold pajama. I had tied my hair in a loose braid and draped the dupatta on my head in bridal style. Wearing just my engagement ring, I was waiting patiently for Zakriya's arrival at the Islamic centre. He came around ten minutes later. He was dressed in a black tux with a crisp white shirt and red tie. His hair was neatly placed and not in its messy casual state. He looked amazing. His eyes landed on me and he smiled openly.

"You look beautiful." He said to me. He extended his hand to me. I was sitting on a sofa. I took his hand and stood up. I was surprised at his compliment. No one has ever told me that I'm beautiful.

"Thank you. You too."

"Again with the thanks. Honey, I'm gonna tell you what I want instead of a thank you from you." He lightly mumbled near my ear. His close proximity to me brought color to my cheeks.

The door opened and in came Surg. Jason and his wife Martha.

"So this is who you are marrying?" he inquired.

"Yes sir." I replied and turned to Zakriya who stood with a confused expression. "Zakriya these are my friends Jason Mills and his wife Martha." I introduced them. He quickly moved to shake hands with Surg. Jason.

"A pleasure to meet you my boy. I hope you will keep this young lady happy." He said. I smiled. "Of course, I will try my best." Zakriya replied confidently.

From my side I had only invited Jason and his wife to bear witness to my nikah while on the other hand, Zakriya had only invited his Grandmother and brother. His grandmother was a sweet lady—no wonder where Zakriya gets his good manners and etiquettes from. His brother on the other hand has a cold attitude to him and just stood at a corner silently.

As we proceeded with the ceremony, it was decided that Zakriya would place ten thousand dollars as my Haq mehr. I was surprised since ten grand was way too much. But I didn't argue.

As the the imam inquired from Zakriya if he was in his full senses and accepted this nikah to take me a his wife, with a jolly smile and happy eyes, he glanced in my direction and said, "I do," three time and signed the nikah contract.

When it was my turn, my heart quickly raced. I was beginning to have doubts.

Was I really ready for marriage?

No, no doubts Amber—remember your promise and your goal. Never forget them.

"Yes, I do," I replied confidently and signed the contract. And with this, I was one step closer to obtaining my purpose.

"Congratulations both of you. May Allah bless this union. Let's raise our hand in prayer foe the happiness of these two." We and the imam and the two muslim witnesses raised their hands in supplication.

As I raised my hands, there was only one thing in my mind. Oh Allah please let me fulfil my purpose and goal for this marriage.

After the nikah ceremony was over and the others left the two of us alone, my lawyer came in. I had Zakriya sign a non disclosure agreement which stated my conditions and the consequences should he break my condition. And without any reservations, he signed it. After the lawyer left—I felt Zakriya's arm on my shoulders as he brought me close to him. And to my surprise, his face was only an inch away from mine.

"Now, let's forget this. Come here, I want something from you.' He murmured and to my utmost shock, his lips softly met with mine. He gripped my chin gently as he kissed me. So this is what it's like to have your first kiss—sweet and sublime. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. His lips were warm and his breath was hot and clean.

"There," he said, releasing my lips. "My first kiss to you, now we are officially married." He stated, staring deeply into my eyes.

All I could do was stare at him in awe.

YUP I KNOW ITS EARLY :D

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