Chapter Ten — Coming for My Bride-Khalid
1662 Words
I had been to Anaya’s house before.
But this time was different.
The first time, I had walked into that compound as a stranger.
A man who didn’t know the family.
A man who didn’t know the bride.
A man who had made a decision that even he couldn’t fully explain.
Today, I was going there as her husband.
And I was going to bring my wife home.
I sat in the back seat of the car beside my mother while my father sat in front.
Behind us were several other cars.
My brother Zayd and Lina were in one.
Mariam and Tariq were in another.
Other family members followed.
There were gifts in almost every vehicle.
My mother had spent the past two days preparing everything.
She had been serious about it.
Very serious.
Every time I thought she was finished, another package appeared.
Another box.
Another piece of jewelry.
Another fabric.
Another traditional item.
At one point, I had looked at her and asked,
“Mama, how much are you planning to take?”
She had simply said,
“Enough.”
I had laughed.
She hadn’t.
Now, as we drove toward Anaya’s family home, I looked at my mother.
She was checking something on her phone.
“Are you nervous?”
She didn’t even look at me.
“No.”
I smiled.
“You’ve been preparing for two days.”
“Because you gave me two days.”
“Fair.”
She finally looked at me.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Are you nervous?”
I looked out the window.
“A little.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”
“Because it means you understand what you’re doing.”
I laughed softly.
“I’m not sure I do.”
She reached over and touched my arm.
“You will.”
The cars finally entered the compound.
I could already see people outside.
Anaya’s family had clearly been waiting for us.
There were relatives everywhere.
Women were standing together.
Children were running around.
Men were greeting each other.
The moment we got out, people began welcoming us.
“Assalamu alaikum.”
“Wa alaikum salam.”
My father greeted Anaya’s father.
My mother hugged her mother.
Everyone started talking at once.
I stood there for a moment, taking everything in.
Then I looked toward the house.
My wife was inside.
I had spoken to her every day since the nikah.
We had texted constantly.
We had spoken on the phone.
I had learned little things about her.
She liked quiet mornings.
She loved her work.
She didn’t like people fussing over her.
She laughed easily when she was comfortable.
She was more playful than she appeared.
And she had a habit of saying “okay” whenever she didn’t know what else to say.
I had learned these things in only a few days.
But I wanted to know more.
My mother touched my shoulder.
“Go inside.”
I looked at her.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Your wife is waiting.”
I walked inside.
The house was full.
I greeted everyone I passed.
Then I saw Anaya.
And I stopped.
For a moment, I forgot what I was supposed to say.
She was sitting in her wheelchair near the center of the room.
She was dressed beautifully.
Her abaya was elegant, flowing perfectly around her.
Her hijab was carefully arranged.
Her glasses sat delicately on her face.
There was jewelry around her wrists and neck.
Not too much.
Just enough.
She looked…
Beautiful.
But it wasn’t the clothes that caught my attention.
It was her expression.
She looked nervous.
Excited.
A little emotional.
She saw me.
Her eyes met mine.
And then she smiled.
A small smile.
But it was enough.
I walked toward her.
“Assalamu alaikum.”
“Wa alaikum salam.”
I smiled.
“You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks immediately turned pink.
“Thank you.”
I crouched slightly so we were closer.
“Are you ready?”
She looked around the room.
Then back at me.
“I think so.”
I laughed.
“You think so?”
She smiled.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“Neither have I.”
She laughed.
For a second, everything around us disappeared.
Then her mother came toward us.
“My daughter is ready.”
Anaya looked at her mother.
“Mama…”
Her mother kissed her forehead.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You are.”
Anaya wiped quickly beneath her eye.
I looked away for a moment.
This was difficult.
She was leaving her family.
I understood that.
My mother came over.
She looked at Anaya.
“My dear.”
Anaya looked up.
“Yes?”
“Come.”
My mother held her hand.
“You are not losing your family.”
Anaya smiled.
“You are simply gaining another one.”
Anaya’s eyes filled with tears.
“Thank you.”
My mother kissed her forehead.
Then my mother turned toward everyone.
“We will take good care of her.”
Anaya’s father nodded.
“I know.”
I looked at him.
He came toward me.
For a moment, we stood facing each other.
Then he took my hand.
“Khalid.”
“Baba.”
His voice was serious.
“She is my daughter.”
“I know.”
“She has already been hurt enough.”
“I know.”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Don’t let her feel alone.”
My throat tightened.
“I won’t.”
“Don’t make her feel like she was a decision you made because you felt sorry for her.”
“I didn’t.”
He nodded.
“I believe you.”
He squeezed my hand.
“Then take care of her.”
“I will.”
Anaya watched us.
Her eyes were wet.
Her brother Adam came next.
He hugged her.
Then Maryam.
Then Aisha.
Her sisters cried.
Anaya cried too.
I stood a little distance away.
I didn’t want to intrude.
This was her moment with her family.
I watched her say goodbye to every auntie.
Every cousin.
Every person who had come to see her off.
Some cried.
Some laughed.
Some gave her advice.
One auntie hugged her and whispered something into her ear that made Anaya laugh through her tears.
Eventually, her mother came back.
“Anaya.”
She turned.
“Yes?”
“It’s time.”
Anaya nodded.
I stepped forward.
“Do you need anything?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
I moved beside her.
Then I looked at her wheelchair.
“Can I?”
She knew what I meant.
She smiled.
“Yes.”
I gently took hold of the handles.
And slowly, I began pushing her toward the door.
Her family followed.
The entire house seemed to be watching.
When we reached the entrance, Anaya stopped.
She looked back.
Her mother stood there.
Her father.
Her siblings.
Her relatives.
Her eyes filled again.
“I’ll come back.”
Her mother smiled through her tears.
“Of course.”
Anaya nodded.
Then she looked forward.
I pushed her outside.
The sunlight hit her face.
She closed her eyes briefly.
I smiled.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Sure?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
I continued toward the car.
There was a special space prepared for her.
I had made sure everything was accessible.
The staff had checked it twice.
My mother had checked it three times.
Anaya noticed.
She looked at me.
“You did this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So you’re comfortable.”
She stared at me.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
“You’re welcome.”
I helped make sure she was settled safely.
Then I stepped back.
My mother came forward and kissed Anaya’s cheek.
“Welcome home, my dear.”
Anaya smiled.
“Thank you, Mama.”
The word seemed to make my mother happy.
She smiled.
Then everyone began getting into the cars.
I stood beside Anaya.
For a moment, we watched her family.
Her father raised his hand.
I raised mine.
Then we got into our car.
I sat beside her.
The driver started the engine.
Anaya looked out the window.
She was quiet.
I reached over.
“Are you okay?”
She looked at me.
“I’m leaving my family.”
“I know.”
“I’m happy.”
“I know.”
“But I’m sad.”
“I know.”
She looked down.
“I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
She smiled.
Then she looked at me.
“And I’m scared.”
I nodded.
“That’s okay.”
She laughed softly.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s usually true.”
She laughed again.
The car moved forward.
I watched her for a moment.
Then I realized something.
This woman was no longer simply someone I had married.
She was someone I was beginning to care about.
Maybe more than I should.
Maybe faster than I expected.
But there it was.
She had become important to me.
I looked ahead.
The road stretched toward home.
Our home.
I still wasn’t used to that word.
Our.
My house was no longer just mine.
There would be Anaya in it now.
Her clothes.
Her books.
Her things.
Her laughter.
Her silence.
Her wheelchair.
Her life.
And somehow…
I wanted all of it there.
I looked at her again.
“Anaya.”
She turned.
“Yes?”
“Welcome home.”
Her eyes softened.
She smiled.
“Thank you, Khalid.”
And as the car carried us toward the Al-Faheed family home, I realized something.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t thinking about how quickly I could get back to work.
I was thinking about getting home.
Because my wife was coming with me.
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