Do I have to tell you every time to read and watch the video in the media section first 😡

Did you watch it?

Good, proceed 🙊 and if you didn't then you're missing out smh

Don't forget to vote and comment x

Allahu alam how many mistakes are in this chapter but wallahi I could not be bothered proof reading 10,000 words. Yep. 10,000. Enjoy my loves ❤️

::::::

"Mummy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" I asked with a smile as I walked away from Zaid and kneeled beside Hafsa.

"Where is our bed?" She asked me curiously.

It was a good question, I didn't even know where their room was.

"Come, let me show you the house, Zaid said and I chuckled as he cleared his throats and gave the kids a tour of all the rooms, making them laugh every now and then with a little joke or a funny voice which made me feel so at ease.

(Time for some house photos 🙊 ngl, this part in all my stories aren't even for you guys kaksksks interior design is one of my biggest secret hobbies and I loooooveee going through house photos so I love this part in my stories 😭 can't wait to do it for King and A'ishah's home too inshaaAllah (plug plug plug kaksks go add 'Finding Islam' to your library I'm going to start updating it after tomorrow if Allah wills. 👀🙊)

Lobby/entrance:

Living room;

Kitchen;

Bathroom; (I don't really like the bathroom of this house but meh, it suits the theme so)

Upstairs;

I huffed as we reached the top of the stairs, looking around the house had brought back so many memories. Every single corner had its own memory. I didn't know whether or not to be happy or saddened by the decor theme change. Last time I was in this house with Zaid, our theme was yellow grey and white where as now it was brown turquoise and charcoal.

Zaid had suggested that it would be better if we completely changed it up so that we don't remember the old days and get sad, but now I felt even more sad in a way. I wanted it to be just like old times.

"What's wrong?" Zaid asked with a raised eyebrow looking concerned.

"I miss the brightness. The yellow." I said with a shrug, looking at the new dark floorboards and stair banister, running my hand along the mahogany polish.

"Sumi, we discussed this and you..."

"I agreed, I know. Don't worry, I don't want you to change it. It just feels glum because I'm used to the old yellowness of this place, but I'll get used to it bi idhnillah." I smiled.

"I really want to say we can change it back, but I can't stand being without you or the kids for any longer." He said, his blue eyes piercing through mine.

I nodded my head. "Five months is a very long time." I spoke, remembering back to five months ago when he had first come to my workplace.

-flashback-

I finished my dua and folded my sajjada, standing up and getting ready to put it into my locker as I slipped into my shoes before I heard it.

His voice.

A voice that I hadn't heard in four years. A voice that sent chills down my spine and made the hairs on my body raise.

I would recognise my name from his mouth even if he had said it from kilometres away.

"Sumayya."

I shut my eyes, wondering and formulating ways in which I could get out of this situation as best I could, without having to look into his wonderful eyes or at his gorgeous face.

For about thirty seconds straight, I stood there, my fingertips clutching my sajjada to my chest tightly as I felt his silent presence behind me.

I inhaled and exhaled rhythmically, trying to calm my beating heart but it was to no avail. There was no escape.

Ya Allah, help me get out of this situation.

I released one last breath before shaking my head and opening my locker, placing my things inside before slamming it shut and beginning to walk away, only to be held by his grip on my arm. That was expected.

"Leave my arm." Was all I said. Alhamdulillah my voice came out strong and direct, not cracking or faltering at all like I had expected it to the moment I began speaking.

"Please, just let me explain."

"Leave me alone." I repeated, realising that my voice was now more quiet, more vulnerable.

After all that time the first thing he said to me was let me explain? Did he really think I was going to give him that chance? Did he really think he deserved that chance?

He released his grip on me only to walk ahead and stand directly in front of me. My breathing started to become patchy again and I quickly looked to the ground, having no courage or will to face him and look at his face, look into his eyes.

"Look at me." He ordered, but his soft and broken tone made it sound nothing like an order, but rather a plea, a plea of absolute and utter desperation. "Please." He added quietly.

He was stubborn. I knew this. He also knew how stubborn I was. We both knew that my stubbornness outweighed his by a mile.

"Leave." I muttered, trying to side step him to get to the exit. At this point the lump in my throat had grew and I was so close to letting my tears flow freely. "Please." I added, just like he had, but mine didn't sound as desperate, it was more of a sarcastic please that I only said because he used the very same word.

"Suma..."

"Don't!" I barked quite loudly, cutting him off before he could say my name. I knew that hearing my name fall off his lips after so many years would be the breaking point and I would no longer be able to keep a strong façade in front of him.

He began saying my name again and I shut my eyes, placing my hands over my ears to block his voice out, my name sounding like a mere mumble when he said it, but even that was enough. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to keep in the tears but I felt my eyelashes dampening as I began losing strength, my hands fell limp to my sides and I leaned against the lockers for support as he said my name again in concern.

"Sumayya, I'm sorry." He cried out in frustration as he bent his knees to come at eye level with me.

"Leave." I croaked, placing my hand on my chest as I tried to regulate my breathing, feeling like my ribs were closing in on my chest and squeezing my insides.

"Your ring." He blurted, his eyes zooming in on the ring that I had kept on my finger for four years straight.

He had bought it for me as a proposal ring and since the day it had slipped onto my finger, it had yet to come off. There were two separate rings, gold in colour and very delicate looking. One of them had a thin band that split into two at the top to make it look like two rings and the other was a very thin band with a small heart shape in the middle.

As I forced my brain to decide on whether or not to take the rings off, I felt myself get light headed. This was all too much for me to bear so suddenly.

"Sumayya! Sumayya, oh god, are you okay?" Bella rushed into the room as she stared at my obviously pale face, holding my arms just before I fell to the ground.

"Who are you!?" Came another voice. I recognised it to be Kyle's. He sounded mad. "What the hell did you do to her?"

He was silent. He didn't say a word. I focussed on Bella who was telling me to breathe in and out deeply as if I was a woman in labour. I listened to her, while hearing Kyle and his mumbled argument in the background, not understanding what they were saying. My breathing became more steady and my heart rate began dropping back to an average pace.

As I started to come back to reality, I heard a sentence. One statement out of all the things he could have said and that was when I blew.

"I would never do anything to hurt her."

"Excuse me!?" I asked, completely appalled at how he actually had the nerve to say something like that. "What do you mean you'd never do anything to hurt me!? No one on the face of this Dunya has ever hurt me as much as you have, Zaid." I said, using his name for the first time in years. It felt foreign and different on my tongue, especially since it was the first time I was saying it in a tone of complete hostility and resentment, compared to all those times I used to say it with love and adoration. "I'll never forget the hell you put me through on earth. Allah (swt) has witnessed every single tear that I shed because of you. He knows how many times my heart felt like it was breaking from sadness and grief. He heard every single dua that I made while I cried alone at night. But you know what, Zaid?" I said, furiously wiping the tears on my cheeks and trying to stand up straighter. "I never once lost hope in Him. I knew that Allah (swt) was hearing my Du'a and I put my trust only in Him. Alhamdulillah, Zaid, he turned my constant tears of sadness into ones of absolute bliss, without you." I said, narrowing my eyes as his were clouded with hurt. "I don't need you anymore, Zaid. Leave me alone. Forever." I said before pushing past him, only to change my mind before I completely left the room. "Oh, and you can have these back! I was waiting for the day I could throw them back in your face." I said as I unwillingly pulled the rings off my finger, throwing it at him, the pieces of gold hitting his shoulder before falling to the floor in silence.

-end of flashback-

It felt like much longer than five months since that had happened. It almost felt like a year. Time had gone slowly these past months and I went on a rollercoaster ride of emotions.

I went from absolutely hating him, his name, his whole being, to being in a home with him and our kids and feeling happy. Of course there was resentment, guilt, sadness, depression, happiness, excitement, longing, throughout the whole timespan, but now I was so content and I was happy to be in this position.

Although everything I've been through was very hard to handle, it was the qadr of Allah and I would never in a million years change that. If Allah had wanted my life to be like this, if He wanted me to live four years of sadness and longing and struggle, then who was I to question His decree? All praise is to Him for what I went through shaped me into the strong woman I am today. I never would have been this strong if it weren't for all I went through.

Being a single mum to two kids for four years was the best and worst experience of my life, but the positives outweighed the negatives by miles and I was so thankful for every little thing I went through, good and bad.

"Can we see our room!?" Hamza asked, looking up at me with wide eyes and a smile and cutting me out of my thoughts. Clearly he had liked the house so far and I was glad he did.

"It's right there." Zaid answered, pointing with his index finger to a room on the other side of the stair case.

"Can we go in?" Hamza asked impatiently, making me and Zaid both chuckle.

"Of course, buddy. It's your room. You can go in whenever you like." Zaid said, ruffling his hair with a smile. Hamza didn't need to be told twice as he ran around the stairs to the other end of the banister, pulling open the door and walking in, Hafsa following him like a lost puppy with her little waddle.

We walked to the room also and as I pushed it open I smiled at the decor. It was cute. Pink for Hafsa and a pistachio green for Hamza.

"Is this mine?" Hamza whined and I raised my eyebrows as I looked at him after looking at Hafsa who was smiling as she climbed onto her bed.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, knowing that he was going to complain about the colour.

"I don't want green." He whined, standing still and stomping his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hamza, you should th..."

"No." Zaid said, stopping me from speaking as he kneeled in front of Hamza and held his arms softly. "Do you want blue?" He asked. "If you want a blue bed, I'll get you a blue bed, Hamza." He spoke, making me arrow my eyes.

"Excuse me?" I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What? He's going to be in this room for a few years, might as well be how he likes it." He shrugged.

"I want blue." Hamza said looking back at Zaid and ignoring me. Wow.

Okay.

"Okay, tomorrow there'll be a blue bed instead, okay?"

"Okay." Zaid said with a grin.

"Why is there no toys?" Hafsa pouted now making me widen my eyes.

"What is up with you two today?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips and narrowing my eyes.

"That's because your toy room is separate. Go next door." Zaid told them both with a wide grin, making me feel even more frustrated. He was already spoiling them.

All my years of hard work to make them not spoilt were going down the drain in the matter of minutes.

Zaid left the room after the kids and I begrudgingly followed as we entered the next room, even my eyes widening at the beauty of their play room.

It had completely changed from when I was last in here. The climbable drawers were now gone, (let's just pretend those shelves are not climbable okay? Okay, thanks x heheheh) they were replaced with shelving, the shaped carpet now a striped one and the colourful wall changed into a yellow feature wall that brightened up the whole room. It reminded me of how our house was before and automatically a smile lit up my face. I think this was my favourite room too.

Hamza and Hafsa both gasped loudly walking into the room with brightened faces and exploring the countless toys. They went to the drawing table filled with blank paper, pens, pencils, textas before opening a few toy drawers and sifting through them. Hamza went to the little ball pit and started moving the balls around with his arm while Hafsa walked straight to a little oven and kitchen area placed along the yellow wall.

"That's my girl." Zaid said and I looked over to see a smirk on his face.

"What?" I sputtered with a small laugh.

"She knows her role. Allahumma barik laha."

"She will go to university InshaaAllah." I laughed.

"Of course she will, if she wants to. That doesn't mean she doesn't have to cook meals for her family and do housework once she's married. She'll be exactly like the prophets wives InshaaAllah and she will marry a man who strives to be like the prophet ﷺ." He sighed, smiling at her.

"InshaaAllah." I said after some few moments silence. He was right. Zaid never adopted western culture or ideologies. He always made sure to stick to Islamic law and shariah with regards to gender roles and all else that the western world had twisted.

"But not too soon." He said all of a sudden, his eyes narrowed. I rolled my eyes. "How soon is too soon?"

"She has to be at least 25." He muttered.

"Zaid," I scoffed. "Come on. I married you at 18." I reminded him with raised eyebrows as both the kids ran to the chalkboard on one of the walls and began drawing.

"That's besides the point." He said. "Now can we not speak about our daughter and marriage please?" He muttered, his shoulders tense.

I laughed. "I'm glad you've not lost your sense of gheerah over the years." I told him with a smile.

He looked over at me, his eyes admiring me in my jilbab with a proud glint in his eyes.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into him, my hands resting on his chest as I smiled, a blush rising to my cheeks.

"I'd lose everything, but my gheerah? Never." He said lowly, making butterflies erupt in my stomach.

"Yeah?" I asked softly.

He smirked. "Yeah." He said simply.

I grinned and then pulled away from him with a shake of my head. "How badly on a scale of one to ten do you want me to wear niqab?" I asked him.

"Ten." He answered immediately. "Wait, even more than that. Remember..."

"Yeah, I remember." I said, not needing him to tell me. I knew what he was speaking about.

One month before he left, he had told me that he really wanted me to wear niqab and we had an hour long chat about it and by the end of it, I told him I would wear it that Ramadan which was four months away, but when he left, I fell into a downward spiral and I just completely forgot about my niqab when I was focusing on my pregnancy and everything else in my life.

"Maybe this Ramadan?" He asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

I scoffed. "I'm not wearing niqab for you." I rolled my eyes. "I'll wear it whenever I feel ready, by the will of Allah swt."

"I didn't mean it in that way. Of course if you do, it'll be for the sake of Allah." He chuckled, shaking his head and raising his hands in surrender. I smiled at him before turning to the kids.

"Babies, you both play here - me and baba have to go empty boxes, okay?" I said to them and they didn't even glance my way as they drew along the chalk board. I shook my head and walked out of the room with Zaid following me.

"Is our room still the same?" I asked him.

"Same set up, different furniture." He said simply and I tried to settle my excitement as I reached the double doors.

It felt so weird to be back in this house again with Zaid by my side. Every corner was a memory that I replayed in my mind.

"Bismillah." I said, pushing the doors open and widening my eyes at the room.

"Woah," I whispered, stepping into the room and looking at the furniture in awe. "This is beautiful." I spoke. The room was themed in grey cream and a dark purple. A large bed covered in cushions sat in the middle of the dad wall, high mirror coated side tables on either side. There was a little coffee corner with two single couches in front of the panoramic window. A single leg couch sat in front of the fireplace where the tv used to be four years ago.

"Why'd you take the tv off?" I asked.

"I know you always got angry at me when I used to watch tv here instead of in the living room, so I rid of the temptation. And I know how much you love fireplaces so, I got one of them put in instead." He said.

"You're really doing the most, aren't you?" I told him with a soft smile.

"Whatever it takes, Sumi."

He stared straight into my eyes, his gaze sending a burning sensation throughout my body. I sighed in content and gave him a small smile before looking at the empty walk in robe on my right.

"Let's start emptying these boxes, yeah?" I spoke.

"Let's." He agreed as he walked out to bring the boxes into the room.

It took us two whole hours to unpack all of my belongings.

"Is this the last box?" I asked him and he nodded, placing it beside me and using a knife to rip the sticky tape off.

"The rest write kids on them so this is it of yours." He said, exhaling loudly and sitting down on the little stool at the foot of the bed.

"I'm surprised the kids haven't come here yet." I said.

"They're still playing in the room." He answered me.

"You checked on them, yeah?" I asked him as I took out my jackets and began hanging them inside the cupboard.

"For the tenth time, yes, baby." He spoke with a sigh, flopping on the bed and staring at me while laying down.

"Baby?" I asked with a smirk his way watching his face resemble mine.

"Baby? Is that what I said?" He repeated with a laugh and a playful smirk, making me chuckle.

"Yes." I spoke. "And hey, why are you looking all tired? You've done nothing." I scoffed.

"That's cause you didn't let me." He argued, lying completely.

"I didn't say you can't touch everything I just said no touching my underwear!" I laughed loudly accusing him which made him laugh even louder.

It was in this moment that I realised just how much I had missed our jokes and laughs. We got along do well and I knew that I was going to be having many more laughs from now on with him and our kids than I had for the past four years.

"I'm so glad you're already being close to me. I'm not gonna lie, I thought you'd give me the cold shoulder for weeks." He said, sitting up in the bed and looking at me with his head tilted to the side.

"I think we've wasted enough time already, Zaid. There's no use holding grudges. Plus, imagine the sin I gain from not being with you as a wife should." I told him honestly.

"Allahumma barik." He said. "But wallahi, I wouldn't have held it against you if you did."

"I know, but for the sake of the kids, we need to be happy with one another, yeah?"

"Yeah." He agreed. "Are you finished?" He asked when he saw me leave the walk in robe and fold the cardboard box into a flat rectangle.

"Well, if that was everything. Then yeah, alhamdulillah." I smiled putting the folded box along the wall with the rest of them as he got off the bed and came up beside me, easily grabbing the stack of cardboards in his arms.

"You've sweated. You should have a shower before we go." He said.

"Actually you're right. I think I will." I said as I rubbed my forehead. I did feel sticky and I'd be able to shower knowing Zaid was watching over the kids.

"Watch over them please." I said and he nodded, leaving the room while I went to the walk in robe and took out my violet jilbab. I don't know why, but I absolutely loved wearing my jilbabs now. It made me feel so good that I was finally dressing in a way that was completely pleasing to Allah. A dress that the sahaabiyat wore and one that I knew wouldn't gain the wrath of Allah on the day of judgement bi idhnillah.

I grabbed a towel from behind the door and walked into the bathroom, turning on the water and letting the cool water run over my body.

I didn't take that long. Before I had kids my showers used to take half an hour. Astaghfirullah all that was was israaf. Wasting water. After I had kids, I had mastered having two minute showers and in those two minutes I did everything I did in my 30 minute showers, minus the israaf.

This time though I let myself relax a bit. And by relax, I mean five minutes and I was out, drying my body and putting on my tights and T shirt to dry my hair.

It didn't take longer than ten minutes and then I realised that my jilbab was on the bed...

Great.

Why did this feel like my wedding night when I had first taken off my hijab?

-flashback-

"Do you have wudhu?" Zaid asked me as he drove towards the holiday house he had reserved. He said he didn't like hotels, which was funny to me since his family owned a chain of hotels, but I didn't question him. I wondered how long it would take for me call it my home. Right now it just felt odd to be driving to a place I'd be living in besides my parents' house.

"Um, yeah." I said softly, playing with my fingers nervously.

Zaid had met me only one month ago when he and his father came to our school for a speech.

-double flashback-

"Okay, girls, please make sure everyone is seated properly. These people own a very very big company and I want everything to be perfect, understood?"

"Understood, Mrs Doubtfire." I answered her with a forced smile.

"We've got everything under control." Charlotte answered with a grin.

She was the only one in the schools 'welcoming group' who actually wanted to be apart of it. The rest of us girls, namely Sandeep, Chen, Ivona, Akanke and I, were forced into this group.

Whenever guest speakers or new potential enrollments came through, we were required to be leaders and follow them around, help them with their needs and assist the teachers in all the set ups.

Sandeep was an Indian, Chen was from Vietnam, Ivona from the Macedonia, Akanke from Ghana, Charlotte was what we call white, or 'British' and me, the Egyptian/British - the token Muslim.

The schools way of saying 'Hi, we accept students from all cultures and backgrounds'.

It was pointless.

A few boys were added into this group at the beginning of the year, but after witnessing that they did more harm than good while 'welcoming' guests, the teachers took them out.

"Okay, chop chop. Don't disappoint me." She said as she turned around and walked in the opposite direction in a hurry.

"When've we ever?" Scoffed Akanke.

"Init, she never appreciates anything we do for this stupid group." Ivona said, taking her phone out and shuffling her music before putting in one ear phone.

"Come on, girls. She's just trying to make everything perfect for the guests. Let's not be rude. Now, I'll go to the teachers and tell them their rows ahead of time, okay? That way we won't have to do much later." Charlotte said with a big smile, nodding her head and leaving us in the hallway.

"I'm still convinced she's Mrs Doubtfire's granddaughter." Chen said with narrowed eyes making the rest of us laugh.

"Come on, guys. She's just nice. This is something she was born to do. Let her be." I said after chuckling softly. Charlotte had never done anything bad to me so why would I mock her with an ulterior motive?

"Ever the nice one, Sumayya." Sandeep said with a shake of her head making me smile.

"Let's go wait outside until she comes back to get us." Ivona spoke and we all agreed walking to the back of the school and sitting on the bench beside the car park to pass time. The only good thing about this group was that whenever we were needed, our duties took the whole day so that meant a free day from classes while being marked present.

"Jheeze how long does it take to tell teachers rows?" Chen spoke, getting off the wooden bench and sitting on the grass floor instead, her back leaning against the tree.

"Uh oh. Houston, we have a problem." Sandeep said with wide eyes.

"What?" I asked, turning around to look at the direction she was staring at. "Oh." I said in shock as I saw a black Audi parked in the car park, the driver getting out and opening the door for the back seat. No doubt this was the father and son coming to speak at our school today.

"They've parked in the druggie car park instead of the main one, they don't really give off the smart business men vibe, init?" Ivona spoke making us all laugh, but once the young man who was in the black car stepped out and looked around, we all fell silent.

SubhanAllah

"Woah."

"Oh my god."

"Wow."

"Shotgun."

We all turned to look at Akanke with wide eyes. How was she just going to call shotgun on a man?

Astaghfirullah.

"What?!" She said, clearly not seeing anything wrong with what she had said.

He was a tall man probably in (I don't remember how old Zaid was but I'm changing it now. He's going to be 5 years older than sumi. So she's 18 here, he's 23) his early twenties. He was built, broad shoulders barely held back by the flimsy white button up he was wearing. He had dark suit pants on with a leather belt, his shirt tucked in.

A very expensive looking watch sat on his right wrist. Hm. Right wrist? Was he Muslim?

I disregarded the thought. No way.

"Look at his beard, he's definitely Hindu." Sandeep said sounding excited. Except his beard wasn't as long as Hindus leave it. It was about a handful of length. Just like once was narrated of the prophet's ﷺ beard by a sahabi.

Another man came out of the car after him, an older man. He was shorter than the young one, dressed in similar attire except he didn't have a watch on and he had a suit jacket and tie.

"They're father and son, init?" Ivona asked and I nodded.

"Does anyone remember what Mrs Doubtfire said their names were?" Chen asked as she got up off the ground and dusted behind her jeans.

"Nope." Sandeep answered.

"We weren't even listening." Ivona muttered.

"Yeah see, and now we can't make a good impression on my future husband and father in law because we were being rebellious. Well done, girls." Akanke said with a roll of her eyes making us chuckle.

"Where's Charlotte when you need her?" I muttered as I stood up off the bench. "Well, push has come to shove, ladies. Let's go." I said, adjusting my hijab. I should have worn something a bit more presentable I guess but I had completely forgotten we were getting speakers today.

(Lemme just say, I know everyone is at different stages of hijab and inshaaAllah in due time we will all dress like the women of the sahaba, but the photo pictured above is not proper Islamic dress. You should never be wearing jeans. Your ankles should not show. Jewelry is considered adornment which is forbidden and your wrist down should be covered. This is not judging. This is stating the opinions of scholars which they unanimously agree upon. I'm only putting this as a disclaimer. Yes the outfit is aesthetically pleasing, but the question we need to ask ourselves instead, every single time we leave the house is, is this pleasing to Allah? Like I said, we're all at different stages, but don't be content with the stage you're at right now, instead, make du'a Allah strengthens you in religion, continues to guide you, and always take steps forward to better yourself as a Muslimah in all aspects because wallahi there is always room for improvement. This is a reminder to myself first and foremost. JazakumAllahu khayr. ❤️)

"Bismillah." I said as I threw my hijab over my shoulder and straightened my coat.

We all walked down the path way leading to the car park

"Who's starting?" Chen asked quietly as they saw us approaching from a distance.

"I will." Akanke said confidently. I smiled to myself and stepped to the side so I wasn't behind the group but as soon as I did, I felt eyes on me. Out of nowhere my cheeks began to heat up and I felt shy and small.

I tried my hardest not to look up and gaze at him, but I couldn't. I had to see if it was in fact him looking at me.

I looked up slowly at the taller one. He had sunglasses on that completely hid his eyes, but from the way his head was tilted and the way his head was directly facing me, I knew we had made eye contact. He was staring at me and I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach. I looked away quickly, averting my gaze towards the floor as I tried to stop the blushing of my face. I was surely red and I had zero make up on to act as a potential cover.

I joined my hands in front of my as we approached them.

"Hi! Welcome to Lillydale High. It's an honor to have you here. I'm Akanke. These are Sandeep, Chen, Ivona and Sumayya." Akanke extended her hand but the older man raised his instead.

"I don't shake hands, thank you. It's lovely to be here. What a diverse bunch of girls." He said with a warm smile.

I don't shake hands? Was he actually Muslim?

(I forgot if I gave Zaids parents a name or surname looool I'm such a bad writer I'm sorry! If I did, please comment so I can change it but if I didn't, then meet Zaids dad and their surname.)

"I'm Abdurrahman, but you can call me Mr. Saeed, this is my son Zaid." He said.

"Definitely Muslim."

It fell silent. All eyes turned to me.

Uh oh.

"D-did...did I just... say that aloud?" I stuttered in sheer embarrassment, my face now definitely one hundred percent red.

"Yeah, you did." The deep voice spoke from in front of me. It sent shivers down my spine and if I was in my room alone and had heard the voice I probably would have fell to the floor from cardiac arrest. Astaghfirullah.

"I-I-I'm so sorry." I stammered. Why was it so hard to speak all of a sudden?!

I looked up at him shyly and he smirked very lightly, his lip curving up at the side as he took off his glasses and oh my, how was I not on the floor from cardiac arrest already?

The contrast between his dark tan, dark hair and his bright blue eyes pierced through me, as if his eyes looked and stared deep into my soul. My lips parted and I heard one or two of the girls besides me gasp, making me feel funny. Was that jealousy? Put your glasses back on. I felt like saying.

Wait? Why was I feeling jealous!?

"Ehem." Mr. Saeed coughed and both mine and Zaid's eyes turned to look at him. He gave his son a warning glance and his son cleared his throat, giving me one last glance he turned around and walked to the driver, handing his glasses over.

"Assalamu alaykum." Mr. Saeed spoke looking at me after some moments of awkward silence besides the hushed whispers between Zaid and the driver.

"Wa alaykum salam." I answered, feeling tiny under his hard gaze. His mood had just dropped all of a sudden and I felt responsible. I must've been responsible from the way he was giving me the death look.

"Well, then. You've actually parked in the wrong car park, the main one near the assembly area is on the other side of the school. Shall we start walking over there or would you like to drive?" Sandeep said softly, the calm atmosphere was gone, replaced by tension and awkwardness.

"We shall walk. After you." Mr. Saeed answered simply and so we all turned around and began walking to the other side of the school.

"Zaid." I heard Mr. Saeed say harshly behind us but none of us dared to turn around, instead we just continued walking, not even looking to see if they were coming also.

"What was that?" Chen whispered, tilting her head in my direction.

"Init, oh my god."

"He fully finds you attractive." Sandeep added.

"You know, I hate to admit it. But they're right. That's actually your future husband and father in law." Akanke stated quietly.

"Can you all please be quiet. It's nothing of that sort. It was just awkward and stupid." I muttered, shoving my hands into my jacket pocket as I shook my head.

-Zaid's p.o.v-

"Take these, James." I told our driver, handing my glasses over to him. "Do you have a tissue?" I asked, watching as he reached over into the drivers side and took out a packet, taking one out and handing it to me. "Thanks. Am I blushing?" I asked him making him smirk. "James." I said sternly.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry, sir. No, sir. Just sweating a little."

"I have a task for you." I told him as I wiped my forehead with the tissue.

I had no idea what had come over me. I could not for the life of me stop staring at her. Astaghfirullah. She was a petite girl, the opposite of me. Her big brown eyes and button nose and pink lips that were not too thick nor too thin for my liking. Her features were perfectly aligned, Allahumma barik laha.

Granted, she was wearing jeans, which I didn't like in the least.

But besides that, everything about her made my world freeze. It was like it was only her and I standing there.

'Definitely Muslim' she had whispered her voice soft and delicate. It matched her. I wondered what was going through her head when she had said that. She clearly was wondering whether or not my dad and I were Muslim and clearly from our names had guessed so.

She was definitely my type. Minus the jeans. But we could change that bi idhnillah.

"Anything you like, Sir." James answered with a nod, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced back at her one last time.

"Wa alaykum salam." She said, clearly greeting my dad back, but she hadn't looked at him. Her shy gaze was lowered to the ground as she played with her fingers. When she had stuttered and asked whether she had spoken her thoughts out loud I could barely hold back my chuckle. She was adorable. Her shyness made her cute. I loved it.

She had zero make up on. None. Maybe it was just a one day thing, but even so, her being comfortable to go out bare faced at all in a day and age like today made me admire her. And if what was going through my mind worked out, then it'd make my no make up rule even easier for her to agree to.

I turned back to James. "When we're doing the speech, I want you to go to the office. Give her name." I took out a pen and gestured for another tissue, leaning it against the car and writing her name. I wasn't going to risk him pronouncing the wrong name. He was white after all.

Sumayya.

I wrote it down and handed it to him. "It might be spelt differently I said. Go ask for her parents number. Or whatever guardian number they have. Ask for it, write it down and send it to me. Okay?"

"Sure thing, sir."

"Don't stuff this up." I told him sternly and he nodded, putting the tissue with her name on it in his pocket and handing me my glasses back.

"Zaid." My dad said harshly and I turned around, seeing Sumayya and the rest of girls walking away. "Yallah." My dad said as he began walking. I sent one last look towards James before following my dad, putting my glasses back on.

"What was that?" He asked me, whisper shouting, clearly so Sumayya and the other girls didn't hear.

"What?"

"You acted like an immature teen! Where was the professionalism? Is this how I've taught you to behave in front of people?" He chastised.

And your Lord has decreed that you not worship except Him, and to parents, good treatment. Whether one or both of them reach old age [while] with you, say not to them [so much as], "uff," and do not repel them but speak to them a noble word.
And lower to them the wing of humility out of mercy and say, "My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small."
17:23-24

"You're right, baba. I'm sorry." I said with a sigh, watching the girls whisper things to Sumayya, most likely about me staring at her. How could you not? SubhanAllah.

She walked very confidently among the group, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets and saying something while shaking her head and shushing the other girls. She wasn't that confident besides me though.

That's a plus. Hayaa is definitely a plus.

- Sumayya's p.o.v -

"I'll now pass it over to my son, Zaid Saeed who will take over my company once I'm no longer able to stay around. Thank you for listening and I hope you've taken something from all that I've spoken. If not all the advice, then just remember, the more work you do today, the less work you'll do in the future." Mr. Saeed's voice boomed over the speakers and everyone began applauding as he stepped down from the speaker stand, tapping his son's shoulder as he got up to speak.

"Hey, guys. It's an honour to be speaking here for you today." He began and yet again, his deep voice sent shivers down my spine. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him with what I tried to make a completely expressionless face, while having to listen to girls squealing as soon as he started talking. Desperate much?

"I'd like to keep it short. It's been five years since I was in your shoes and I know how badly you want these speeches to just end so you can get on with your life." He chuckled, making everyone else, especially the girls, laugh. It wasn't even that funny.

Five years. So he was 23 now? He seemed about that anyway.

"I second everything my father has said. I know you may be thinking I was born into the business and I may have slacked off during school and whatnot. But that couldn't be further from the truth. I never wanted to be apart of this company. To be honest, as I say to everyone, I still don't. But this is a family company and I'd do anything to please my family. That doesn't mean I had to let go of my dream. My dream was to work in publishing. So I did. I took two majors. Business management for my parents and publishing for myself. I worked day and night and passed both with flying colours. I work in a publishing company and work with my parents. I love a comfortable life, and this wouldn't have been possible unless I studied. Believe me, if I hadn't studied business and just taken over the family business as a lot of people believe I did, I would have gone bankrupt in weeks." He chuckled and I hadn't ever heard a more beautiful sound till this day than his laugh. The hardened expression on my face softened and my shoulders relaxed.

His eyes roamed the crowd as he continued speaking. "It's up to you. You can laze around now, not study, forget about your homework, give your teachers a hard time, go out and party every weekend, but in the end, your teachers have a job. They're comfortable. You, on the other hand, you will regret not taking..." He stopped speaking once his eyes caught me in the crowd, his mouth left ajar mid sentence. Everyone was looking at him to continue. "Ehem." He cleared his throat. "Sorry. You will regret not studying when you're working eight hours a day plus over time for the pay someone gets in two hours by sitting behind a desk." He glanced at me again and shook his head slightly. "I'll end it here. Remember to stay focused. Suck it up for another month and give it your all. You'll thank yourself for it in the future. Believe me." He gave a solid nod and everyone began applauding him, once again, the girls squealing and cheering unnecessarily loud.

"Why are you clapping like you're being held at gunpoint to do so?" Chen asked from beside me.

"Am not." I muttered.

"You actually are." Sandeep laughed from my other side.

"He stared at you again." Akanke spoke with a chuckle from beside Chen.

"Init!" Ivona said from beside Sandeep as we got up to say farewell since that was our duty also. "You left him at a loss for words, babes." She chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. "Can we get over it please? Let's just go say farewell and never hear of this again."

We began walking around the stage and towards the office where the teachers were going to have refreshments and tea with the guest for half an hour before they left.

"You're in trouble, Sumayya." Charlotte spoke coming up beside me left out of breath, looking saddened and curious.

"What? Why?" I asked her with raised eyebrows.

"I don't know! Mrs. Doubtfire got informed that the guests made an enquiry about you at the head office. Did you do something?" She asked me, her eyebrows raised in question.

"No! I didn't do anything."

"Well, you were acting cold..." Chen spoke.

"Yeah, and you were sort of awkward, maybe that's why." Akanke suggested.

"We'll cover for you, babes. Don't worry. We'll say you just aren't having a good day and you didn't mean it." Ivona spoke.

"Yeah, exactly." Sandeep said. "Don't stress. Nothing will come of it."

"I'll speak to Mrs. Doubtfire as well, love." Charlotte said with a small smile and I thanked them with a small, forced smile as we continued walking to the staff room.

The staff room was large and it had three rows of tables with chairs on either side. You could fit about 80 people inside comfortably.

Along the back wall there was a table with a coffee machine, tea and for today there were trays filled with canapés, cakes and biscuits.

"Straight to the food we go." Akanke said in excitement as she held onto Ivona and Chens arms who were beside her, dragging them towards the table as Charlotte, Sandeep and I followed them. We lined up. I handed out the plates to the girls with a smile.

"Can I have a plate, too?" His voice asked. I froze, looking up and clearing my throat as I looked at him.

"Of course, sir." I answered, handing him the plate in my hand.

"Sir?"

"Akh? Which would you prefer?" I asked, raising a brow and before I knew it he was laughing loudly, the sound sending butterflies to flutter in my tummy as well as red cheeks.

"Wow, that was good." He commented after he had calmed down, completely oblivious to the stares of everyone around us.

"Mr. Saeed, I see you're getting along well with Sumayya." Mrs. Doubtfire spoke touching my arm and smiling at me proudly.

"She's a very warm student." He answered her confidently with a nod, making her beam at me.

"I was just going to have a chat to her about what she might've done wrong for you to enquire about her at the head office." Mrs Doubtfire chuckled, giving me a side glance before looking back at Zaid when he spoke.

"Oh no, I just got ahold of her guardians number. Personal reasons." He said, looking at me for a split second to see my mouth agape and my eyes wide, before looking back at Mrs Doubtfire.

"Have a good day." I said, putting my plate back down and rushing out of the room to get some air.

There was no way. I felt my heart pound against my chest and I rushed to the bathrooms to splash some water on my face to cool down. I think I was having a heart attack, I'm not sure. I just couldn't believe it.

Did he actually get my walis number?!

Better yet, why the hell am I blushing?

- End of double flashback - (meaning this is still a flashback, but to the scene after they got married and are in the car)

"D-do you remember when you first saw me, yeah?" I asked him softly

"Yeah. What about it?" He asked in return, stopping at a red light.

"What was your first impression of me?"

I turned in my seat slightly to look at him, seeing a small smirk light up his face as he faced me also. I felt myself blush and avert my gaze.

"That you weren't looking at me. Just like you aren't right now. You were shy. You had hayaa. You were cute and your features were perfectly aligned, allahumma barik. You had no make up on."

"All good things?" I asked him with a soft smile.

"Definitely. Except for the fact that you were wearing jeans." He added right after.

"You don't like jeans?" I asked.

He chuckled as he put the car into gear and drove once the light turned green. "You can wear jeans at home." He said.

"Why would I wear jeans at home?" I asked him.

"You don't have to. I'm just saying. If you want to wear jeans. You wear them at home. No where else."

Gheerah. That's what it was. He didn't want other people seeing my legs clad in jeans. I blushed and looked down at my lap, fiddling with my fingers.

"I never thought I'd marry someone who I've hardly spoken to." He said making me chuckle.

"Me too." I said between laughter while shaking my head. I looked to the side and my laugh halted as I saw him staring at me. "What?"

"I like your laugh." He said simply, winking at me. "You should laugh more often."

"That's your duty, now."

"What? To laugh?" He asked confused.

"No. Your duty now is to make me laugh." I told him.

He smiled. A full blown smile. No trace of a cocky smirk on his features and it was the best thing to able to stare at his beautiful smile with no fear or no gathering of sin.

"Wallah, I'll spend the rest of my days trying to make you happy." He said, reaching over and grabbing my hand, intertwining our fingers.

I looked down at our, now joined hands. His hand encompassed mine fully, making it look so tiny in his larger one. The friction of his calloused hands against my smooth ones made the butterflies take flight once again and I smiled. Alhamdulillah.

"I love freeways." He said, his smile slowly turning into a smirk as he squeezed my hand softly.

"Me too." I said with a sigh, leaning back in the seat comfortably.

It took us another twenty minutes to arrive at the house. After 15 minutes of driving on the freeway he had to let go of my hand and I wasn't going to lie, my hand felt so so cold without his encompassing it. It made me sad a little.

The house was in the middle of nowhere. A large house surrounded by a lake with a small patio leading to the front door. It was covered I large green succulents. He parked the car and we got out, opening the boot he took out our bags and shut it before locking the car.

The only sound you could hear was the light whooshing of the wind and the soft chirping of the crickets. "Zaid, couldn't you pick somewhere more populated." I said softly, not leaving his side as we walked together to the front door.

"Why would you want people? Isn't this nice? Secluded. No one around." He said.

"That's the thing, you don't know if there's people around." I whisper shouted, touching his arm to make sure he was beside me.

"Are you scared?" He asked me, stopping his movements and looking at me with a smile. I stayed silent, looking up at him innocently. "Don't worry, baby. I'll protect you." He smiled, putting the luggage on the floor, turning to me and holding my cheeks in his hands.

"Promise?" I asked.

"Promise." He said, pulling my head forward a bit and placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

He smiled at me with raised brows and I nodded with a small smile. He picked up the bags again and we walked to the front door, unlocking it with the card and walking in. He placed the bags onto the floor and set the alarm.

"Safe, yeah?" He said.

"Yeah." I nodded with a grin.

"So, what do you want to do?" He asked.

"I'm actually really tired." I spoke.

"Okay, let's pray 2 sunnah rak'ah."

"Why?" I asked, raising my brow.

"Because it's narrated that some of the sahaba did it before consummating marriage. You don't have to consummate the marriage, which we won't tonight." He said making me blush. "But still. It was narrated that Abu Sa'eed, the freed slave of Abu Usayd, said: I got married when I was a slave, and I invited some of the Companions of the Prophet ﷺ among whom were Ibn Mas'ood, Abu Dharr and Hudhayfah. ... And they taught me and said: When your wife enters upon you, pray two rak'ahs, then ask Allah, may He be exalted, for the good of what has entered upon you and seek refuge with Him from its evil, then go ahead and approach your wife."

"Oh, really? I never knew." I said with a embarrassed look, taking in the new information.

"It's fine." He said. "That's what I'm here for. To complete your deen, yeah?"

"Yeah." I smiled.

He began leading the prayer, reciting some of anfal which was my mahr. I loved his recitation. Allahumma barik.

Eventually we finished and folded the prayer mats away.

"Are we going to bed now?" I asked.

"Yeah, are you comfortable sleeping in the same bed, or do you want me on the couch?" He asked.

"Uh, no. It's fine." I said shyly and he nodded his head with a soft chuckle.

"After you." He spoke, gesturing me up the stairs while he grabbed the carry ons and followed me.

He put the luggage's on the floor and took off his suit jacket and watch while I glanced around the room. Through the floor to ceiling windows you could see the moonlight shining through the tall trees hitting the window softly every time the wind blew. It was dark outside and a soft reflection of the room was painted onto the glass. The room was simple. It had a tv mounted to the wall across the bed, two side tables sat on either side with lamps upon them. Below the tv was a unit where Zaid was placing his belongings. On the far corner there was a silver fridge, no doubt filled with fruit and chocolates of all kinds.

I walked into the bathroom with my pyjamas. Fayza had made me pack a silk gown that barely covered anything, but where was the confidence in me to wear that? Non existent, that's where.

Instead I took out a pair of black and white adidas tracksuit pants with cuffing at the ankles and the matching T-Shirt. Walking into the bathroom I took off the dress I was wearing and changed into my 'pyjamas' before letting my hair loose from its bun, the soft waves falling down to my mid back.

"Here goes nothing." I muttered into the mirror. I was glad that the first time he had seen me was without make up. At least now I wouldn't have to be very self conscious about my bare face. Not that I ever really wore make up anyway. "Bismillah."

I walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and turning to look at Zaid who was taking his shirt off, only his tight black singlet covering his tanned upper body. My mouth fell agape when he turned to look at me, his mouth falling open too as he looked me over with wide eyes. We stood there in silence for Allahu alam how many minutes, just admiring one another until I cleared my throat and shook my head, making him snap back into reality also.

"BarakAllahu feeki."

"BarakAllahu feek." We spoke, exactly at the same time and I felt a blush spread across my cheeks as he laughed lowly.

"Wa feeki BarakAllah." He replied.

"Wa feek BarakAllah." I said with a grin, looking up at him while playing with my fingers.

"You really are beautiful." He spoke after some moments of silence.

"So are you." I said softly, making a small smirk take over his lips.

"Beautiful? Is that really the word to use for a man?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

"I've never been called that before." He said with a chuckle.

"Well, I'd hope you've never been called anything before in regards to compliments." I said, raising a challenging eyebrow at him and walking to the bed with some new found confidence. Did he have other girls complimenting him?

"Believe me, the only compliments I'd allow from the opposite gender is from my mum. Especially now. Why would I need anyone else, when I have your compliments to thrive off?" He asked, staring into my soul with those bright blue eyes.

I blushed and looked down at my lap, my hair falling over my shoulders to shield most of my face. Where'd that confidence go? Jheeze.

"Go to sleep, Sumi." He said softly and I hadn't even noticed he had come beside me when he held the back of my head with one hand and placed a kiss onto my hair, making me sigh in content.

He flicked off the light switch and went into the bathroom, leaving me to take in the new nickname and blush even more in the dark as I laid down peacefully. Turning to my right and reciting Surah al Mulk to myself softly. Eventually while I was dosing off, Zaid came into the bed beside me, and before I knew it I was falling asleep to his soft humming recitation of the Surah I had recited moments ago.

- End of flashback - current day -

"Sumayya?"

"Yeah?" I answered softly in a hum at his deep voice through the door, before realizing how dreamy I had sounded at the flashbacks running through my head. I cleared my throat and spoke again, more confidently. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" He asked, sounding curious and worried.

Here goes nothing. Bismillah.

"I'm okay." I spoke as I pulled the door open, facing Zaid and watching as his eyes widened and his lips parted just like the first time he had seen me without hijab.

His eyes lingered on my face, glancing over my features before looking at my loose hair. He cleared his throat. "BarakAllahu feeki." He said softly, licking his lips and shaking his head slightly.

I smiled and almost felt a blush crawl up my neck. "Wa feek barakAllah, Zaid." I answered him.

"You really are beautiful." He spoke, smirking at me. I smirked back at him, knowing exactly what he was doing.

We were starting over. From the beginning. A new life. InshaaAllah a very happy one.

"So are you." I answered him, making him grin at me. I looked up at him not being able to stop the full blown smile that lit up my face.

"I love you so much." He whispered before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me as I chuckled and hugged him back, resting my head on his chest and sighing.

"I love you too." I told him honestly. His arms wrapped around me tighter and we stood there for a few moments, enjoying each other's presence before we parted.

He used his finger to push some of my hair behind my ear, his palm eventually cupping my cheek. Leaning forward he kissed my forehead and I shut my eyes, letting the butterflies take complete control as I hummed.

"I'm never ever leaving you again." He said once he pulled away.

"I won't let you." I told him honestly. Bi idhnillah.

"Promise?" He asked me.

"Promise." I assured, making him smile even more.

We were both definitely going to wake up with sore cheeks tomorrow.

I shook my head. "We've got two four year old kids and we're acting like newlyweds." I muttered, rubbing my forehead with a soft chuckle

"So what? Who's to say you have to stop being in love when you've got two four year olds?" He smirked making me chuckle.

"That's enough, Prince Charming. Yallah, we need to go to mums house." I said.

"Prince Charming, huh?" He said, his smirk only growing wider while I rolled my eyes.

"Still growing an ego every time I compliment you, huh?" I asked him as I tied my hair up and held up my jilbab to wear, putting on the skirt first.

"You know how much I love it when you compliment me." He smirked.

"I do." I agreed. "Now can you please go and get the kids ready? We're going to be late." I spoke.

He stood there for a few seconds and I glanced at him with raised eyebrows while tying my jilbab strings.

"What's wrong?" I asked him as I saw his eyes glossed with unshed tears.

"I never want to lose this blessing." He said simply, making me give him a sad look.

"Then we'll wake up for tahajjud every night and make du'a we won't lose it." I told him confidently.

He stared at me for a few moments before walking up and placing a kiss onto my lips making my eyes widen in shock before they closed on their own accord. He pulled away too soon and I looked at him, no doubt blushing.

"You're my biggest blessing." He said simply, his blue eyes showing nothing but love and honesty before leaving the room, leaving me an emotional wreck about to have a heart attack.

Alhamdulillah.

::::::

TEN THOUSAND WORDS.

Are you proud? Be proud. Because I am proud. Alhamdulillah.

It took me a whole two days to complete writing this chapter. I don't get how people have ten thousand word chapters on every chapter in their stories man, allahumma barik.

Anyways, if you lot don't spam this chapter with votes & endless comments I'm not posting the epilogue. 😊 so idc if you have to go back and read ten thousand words again just to leave comments, do so. Because I really did work very hard on this chapter and I hope you appreciate it.

I love you all for the sake of Allah, and I will see you at the epilogue once and for all InshaaAllah ❤️

Assalamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh ❤️