His gaze never dared to lift and meet mine, while I could only press my lips together, stealing a few cautious glances. Though the man sat directly before me, I saw nothing beyond his black socks and the dark, slim trousers that ended just above his ankles.
I looked up after swallowing a lump of saliva. His eyes rested calmly, long lashes casting faint shadows beneath them. Tidy raven hair with soft brunette highlights framed a humble face. His head tilted slightly, nodding once.
I adjusted my hijab slowly, an instinct born of nervousness, my eyes drifting back and forth without finding a place to settle.
"Ariya."
Suddenly, my mother's voice called my name, catching me off guard. She gently placed her hand over mine, her fingers tightening slightly as she looked at me with a soft, motherly expression.
"My dear, what do you want?"
she asked, but my thoughts were too distant to grasp her question. My gaze shifted again. His parents watched me with hopeful eyes. My older brother's stern expression remained unmoved. Father, too, looked at me, his hands clasped together as he waited for my reply.
Only he did not look at me - perhaps to spare me from the weight of it all.
I swallowed again. With a faint crease of concern upon my face, I spoke, keeping my voice soft and steady.
"I... still haven't completed my studies…"
"My son will provide for your studies."
His mother responded instantly, almost hurriedly, as though she had prepared an answer for every doubt I might raise.
My eyes immediately drifted to him, and he gave another simple nod, still not looking my way. His mother, who sat to my left, leaned closer and uttered in a tender voice,
"Come to us and be our daughter. I assure you, we would love you with all our hearts."
I fidgeted with my fingers and once again spared him a glance. He was someone I happened to know.
A senior back in high school. I was just starting while he was already preparing to graduate. I had only heard a few whispers about him. My peers would flock past his class just to steal a glance. But he was called the Northern Duke - cold as winter and silent as night. Only pure words flowed from his mouth whenever he spoke, and his actions were so kind that even teachers softened.
He would run to the mosque every time the call to prayer came, returning only after he had read the Holy Scripture. A man every mother wished to secure for her daughter. The one to lead prayer, the first to help anyone in need, and nonetheless, one of the best students at school.
His records were clean.
I admired and respected him. I lost word of him after he had graduated. There was a slight guilt within me - guilt that I had once shown a hint of interest in him. But I restrained myself and performed tawbah.
He was a man wanted by all. Was I good enough for him? People might stare and complain behind my back.
That woman doesn't deserve him.
Had she seduced him?
What caused him to become entangled with a woman like that?
Those thoughts swirled inside, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
My brother looked at me again and opened his mouth before I could warn him not to.
"If you don't want him, don't marry him. I won't allow it either."
"Idrak!" my mother called out.
And for once, he looked at me with an almost surprised and bothered expression. As our gazes locked for a second, he immediately looked away.
Ah… that felt awkward. More than anything, curiosity ran through me. Why were you surprised? Why did you look troubled?
I did not fear marriage. I feared responsibility. Was I prepared to fulfil the duties of a wife? Was I qualified to stand by his side to be his comfort and strength?
"Haider… say something, would you?"
His father pointed out, and my father added, grasping the opportunity.
"Tell us what you think, son."
He slowly shifted his gaze toward my father and my brother, who was now standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest, bearing a scowling expression.
He spoke with a voice laced with determination and quiet resolve. I made sure to pay close attention, reading every movement and weighing each of his limited words.
"I… haven't come here to force her into my life. I have come with the will of my Lord. By God, if I ever mistreat your daughter, I shall answer to you and to my Lord."
My heartbeat quickened, and I noticed my father's clenched hands relaxing and my brother's face softening through the corner of my chestnut-brown eyes. My mother could only grin, and his parents bore proud looks upon their faces. His oath trembled my heart, leaving me in an empty daze.
His stare swiftly shifted toward me, catching me by surprise. He kept his eyes locked with mine this time. His stare narrated a fiery tale filled with wisdom and bravery.
By my Lord's will, my heart called for him. Although, in the back of my mind, there lived a part that horrified me - questioning what purpose he had in choosing me as his partner. Yet, the surreal feelings lingering in my heart refused to stop.
Mother smiled, and my brother stepped closer while Father cleared his throat softly as I extended my hand toward him.
He didn't take my hand immediately. He only did so after he had confirmed that I was willing to marry him.
After all this time, he finally looked at me properly and offered a simple nod with a faint smile.