Your Imperfections

Chapter 7

I remember when I was little, and I heard stories about people getting married at such a young age was a matter of stress for me.

Marriage isn’t just about the physical stuff, but with it comes responsibilities. Expectations. Loyalty. Hardships. Especially trusting the other partner.

It’s true, though. As I grew up, I wanted to get married at a very young age. What could I achieve at the age of 25? Nothing. The bond created with marriage would still be the same.

And I had never expected someone to propose to me in a situation, and position like this, in which I was on all my fours like an animal.

“Stop,” I said, looking away from him.

“Uh, I am just gonna go and check if our pizza is ready,” said Maria, and then I felt her leaving us alone.

Damn it. Why did she have to leave me at such a crucial stage like this? When I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

Or the one he was offering me.

I just stared at his long fingers. There was a silver ring resting on his index finger; simple and slim. Who had given it to him? His ex-girlfriend? Stop.

“Aaleyah, will you please come outside?”

I did. Without taking his help.

He sat from across me, scrutinizing me with his intense gaze. I blew out a huge, nervous breath, and tried to catch up on his words that rang in my ears like a school bell.

Marry me, Aaleyah

It was almost like a plea. A desperate plea, that left a kind of sadness in its wake. My first impression of Adian was horrible, and maybe he thought of me the same way. How did everything change so quickly? When did I start feeling towards him?

“My Mom is at your house right now,” he hesitated, “and I know you certainly don’t like me at all, but. . .” he trailed off, his eyes darting to mine.

Was it possible, how someone’s mere look could ignite you on fire? I watched him watch me with those predatory eyes of his, how he wouldn’t back off in holding my stare. How he wouldn’t shy away.

I, however did. And I was positive my cheeks were burning red, and my nerves were all over the place.

“Aaleyah, do you like me?” he blurted out.

God. This was suddenly so uncomfortable.

“UMM,” I gave out a nervous chuckle, fixing my eyes on his hands that were joined together on the table. Such long fingers, I wondered. “Maybe?” There. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Yes or no.”

“Yes.”

I burned even more, if that was even possible.

“Then we are getting married next week.”

I choked on my tongue.

His eyes lit up like the sky on the 4th of July. “Is the thought of marrying me that bad?”

“You can’t even imagine,” I joked, and he laughed.

He actually laughed.

I was mesmerized by the deep sound that vibrated through me. It had been years since I had liked a boy. So many years. But did I really like Adian, or was I just crushing on him?

“Look,” I began, searching for the correct words to explain what I had in mind. Maria was taking longer than usual, and I couldn’t really see her anywhere. Maybe she had bailed on me. Traitor times two. “as long as I remember, I had wanted to get married the way we should, and I certainly don’t believe that love marriages last longer. I had always wanted to fall in love with the man after he becomes my husband.”

His twisted, confused face made me smile.

“What I mean to say is. . . I could give a boy like you a try.”

He grinned. “Boy? Aaleyah, I am 20.”

Oh

A smirk. “Wifey.”

Oh God, this is so embarrassing.

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I absolutely despise the wedding ceremonies that go on for months. People just don’t get that wasting money is bad, it’s unacceptable, and they spend millions on just one wedding.

So, now as I am sat in my bedroom, Dad and I are having arguments, although we aren’t Kylie Jenner rich, but still the money is more than enough of us. And never would I ever allow them to spend their savings on me.

“A nikah only,” I glared at Shahdab. He stuck out his tongue at me, and I chucked a cushion at him. It hits him across the face and now I stick my tongue out.

Ha! Victory.

“Have you talked to Adian about this?” I ask Dad who is staring in space, and has been that way since the past few moments. “Baba!”

His eyes dart to mine, tired and worn out. It makes me feel bad. “Sorry, umm, yes of course I have. He has no issues with just a simple nikah ceremony. I’ll go talk to your Mum about this.” He gets up from the couch and tells Shahdab, “Leave your sister alone, son.”

Shahdab really wants me to have all those functions that have become tradition over the past years in our society. Starting from a week or so before the actual wedding, a Dholki, in which the isn’t really required but in which a person strikes this drum thing with a spoon and the other does this stuff with their hands on both sides which created this music and the others sing songs. And then it’s up to others if they want to dance to those horrific songs.

Then there comes the three main days; Mehndi, Barat, and Walimah.

Ugh. Never ever. If people expect me to sit like a statue on the stage, then they better be buying one on sss.

I flopped back on the bed once they left my room. My mind—of course—wandered off to imagining how awkward the first night of wedding would be. When I’d take off my scarf and he’d see my hair, when I will wear clothes that are actually my size. Oh God. That was going to be tough.

Beside me, my phone chimed, revealing a text message from an unknown number.

I read it immediately.

Mom wanted me to ask which dress you like more. *two pictures inserted* I literally told her these are way tooo fancy but she started saying something in urdu, and well, I don’t really understand urdu well. Anyway, tell me which one you like.

Dumbfounded, I stared at the screen. I never gave Adian my number, and I know Dad would’ve NEVER given him either.

What if this isn’t Adian?

Who is this? I type back.

This is Brad Pitt, sending you pictures of your wedding dress. Ugh, Aaleyah, this is Adian. Unless some creep or your boyfriend would send you these pictures?

OKAY, now stop being annoying. I like both. BTW how did you get my number?

Asked Maria.

He asked Maria? And she, being so dumb, gave it to him? I really need to have a talk with her. She just can’t go around giving him my number! That is wrong in so many ways.

You do remember we have a flight next week, right?

Obviously I remember. I fire back. Why am I getting annoyed?

And then I turn off my phone. I’ve been thinking a lot about my life away from my family, and what it would be like to be a wife. And most importantly, how Adian would treat me.

Would he dump me somewhere?

Would he love me like I always wanted my husband to love me? I feel like that’s what I am most afraid of, his love and loyalty, both of which I need.

There’s no point in stressing over any of this, instead, I peel myself off the bed and walk into the bathroom to perform Wudu—ablution—and afterwards recite the Holy Quran because it really calms me down. It is the only thing that can calm one down, and that is by remembering God.

Sometimes, the verses make my eyes watery, and my breathing to go heavy. Maybe it is the fact that I don’t follow every commandment of God, or perhaps it is because I fear the life after this world. I think it is both.

I had recently got a new one, and I love it.

After reciting a few verses, I gently close it, and the next thing I know, I am falling asleep.