After Midnight

chapter FIVE

Harry’s Mom excitement could be guessed by how fast she sprinted across the room to pull me in her motherly embrace. If it were my step Mom, I would have hated every second of it. But this is the woman who raised an amazing son, and three incredible girls. I don’t hesitate in wrapping my own arms around her small, chubby body.

“We missed you!” she squeals like a girl, squeezing me harder, which makes me not able to breathe properly but I don’t object. I like it. I like being cuddled by a mother. “It’s been so long since we met! Look at you, all grown up and turned into this gorgeous lady my little boy can’t stop gushing about.”

Uh. She was definitely not supposed to say that, saying the semi-glare Harry passes her. I pull back and chuckle, all of a sudden feeling a void in my chest after losing the contact.

“I missed you, too. You look good.” She does look fabulous. Her wavy brown hair are sprawled across her shoulders in neatness, her blue gown elegant. She is a few inches shorter than me. Harry and the girls got their height genes from their father, without a doubt.

“I am supposing Haaris told you about all this?” she questions me. Funny thing is he actually kept ignoring my questions, but I don’t tell her that. instead, I just shake my head no with a small smile.

She sighs, sliding her eyes to her son who shrugs with his own devilish smile. “I thought she might freak out and not come with me,” he justifies to his not so happy Mom. I want to appreciate how he is oh so casually leaning against the wall and just observing everything as if he is the boss.

Arrogant prick.

“So you kidnap her?” she deadpans, eyes wide in shock.

“No!” I blurt immediately. I fail to hide the little giggle. “I came here willingly.” She still looks doubtful so I add, “Trust me, Mummy.”

Harry laughs lightly. I hear the girls giggle too, the first sound I have heard of them.

His Mom’s eyes turn soft. Affectionate. They fill with love. love for me. “You calling me Mum is the sweetest thing ever, Aabi honey.” She grips my arms and gives a reassuring squeeze. A faint smile touches her lips. is she going to cry? Crap! I don’t know how to deal with that! “You are the best, and the only girl I would love to bring home. Will you marry my son?”

Have you ever felt that bolt of electricity that shoots down your spine? Same, I haven’t either. But her words did something like that to me. I have to curl my hands into tight fists to stop the shudders coursing through me. It feels like as if I am in a dream, and tomorrow I will wake up to feeling empty.

I don’t want to feel empty. I want to feel whole.

“Aabirah, you alright?”

I can hear her. I can see her. But my head feels dizzy. My head feels heavy. It feels like I am floating atop the surface of water, lost in my own world. Am I having a panic attack? I had one months ago when my step-Mom locked me inside a small room. That day I had discovered I was claustrophobic. That day. That day was the worst day of my life.

“Crap. Aiman, go get some wet towels. Hurry,” comes the frantic voice of Harry. I am swaying. I am about to fall when two warm hands hold me and gently lower me to the carpeted floor. They're not Harry's.

Somehow through the panic, I am able to utter the words: “I am okay.”

I do what the therapist told me to do in situations like these. Bringing my knees close to my chest, I drop my head in between legs and count my heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. Five—

“Hey, look at me.” The voice I am so familiar with reaches my ears. Yet I don’t find the energy within me to raise my head. Hands—hands that don’t belong to Harry because of the softness to them push me back until I lay on the carpet with sweat trickling down my face. A cool washcloth is pressed to my forehead, and I feel instant calmness seep in my skin.

I release a breath. Somewhere around me, Harry curses.

“Harry, language,” his mother warns him and I imagine his face set in a frown and the roll of his eyes. Despite myself, a chuckle escapes my lips. My eyes flutter open. The first thing that I notice is Harry, sit lips set in a firm line. He glares at me with those ocean eyes.

“When would you ever stop scaring the carp out of me?” he breathes out, eyes narrowing to slits.

With a groan, I manage to sit up straight. Each one of Harry’s sister is looking at me with a hint of worry in her eyes, all of them surrounding me. I give them a small smile and open my arms wide.

“Hey, come here.” The triplets crouched beside me throw themselves on me with full force, making me almost lose my balance. Being only eleven, they’ve grown so tall and beautiful for their age. I squeeze my arms around them, not wanting to let go.

“Enough,” comes Harry’s teasing voice. He peels off his sisters off of me and I manage not to pout like a child.

His Mom helps me get up. I can see how much worry I just gave them and I hate myself for it. I should’ve eaten something, but of course I had to not.

“I am fine. Sorry, I think I fainted-ish because I didn’t eat anything today,” I tell her.

She tch’s a few times, narrowing her eyes. “Very bad. I will make something quick for you. Meanwhile,” she looks over my shoulder at her son, a somewhat warning in her eyes, “you tell her what’s going on.”

She leaves me and Harry alone as she all but drags her daughters with her inside what could be the kitchen and shuts the door.

And suddenly I am a whole lot of nervous. I fidget with my hands, unable to meet his eyes. I wonder if this is how I will always feel towards him. These butterflies and nerves that are all over the place. This hesitation sometimes.

“Sit,” he nods towards the sofa. Why has he gotten so moody all of a sudden?

With a frown, I take a seat on the sofa in the lounge, while he sits like a typical guy opposite to me. One hand resting on the back of the sofa, one leg resting on the other thigh.

“So?”

He scrutinizes me with his gaze. I try not to squirm. That guy might be a nice one, but he still has a ego and cockiness like none other. “Do you take pleasure in scaring the crap out of me?” he c***s a brow at me.

I eyebrows climb up to my hairline. “Are you mad at me because I didn’t eat anything? Seriously?”

He sighs as if I am the most complicated woman on earth. I might as well be. Who knows. “Do you want to marry me, Aabirah?” he only uses my full name when he is serious. Despite some sarcastic replies on the tip of my tongue, I hold them back in.

“Yes.” My reply is quick and without any hesitation. Could he see the wave of excitement in my eyes? The eagerness in my eyes? I hope not. I don’t want to give him an impression that I can’t wait to be his wife. I am kind of stubborn.

He nods his head and gives me a somewhat funny look. “Okay. We’re getting married in an hour. You can go upstairs in the master bedroom where the girls will give you your dress and help you get ready.”

“You already have everything prepared? What if I has said no?”

He smiles a secret smile. I want to know what it means, but he is still not my husband and I should wait patiently before making small talks with him. “Then I would’ve done everything within my power to make you mine.”

Oh God. He wasn’t kidding. He was so damn serious and it made my heart flutter. A thousand emotions blossomed in my chest, and it was really hard to put a finger on one of them. suddenly, a fearful thought entered my head and my pulse starting racing.

“My family. They will try to hurt you in every way possible if they found out about our marriage.” An image of Dad’s men hurting Harry flashed through my eyes. I felt like all my happiness shattered in a second. “I can’t put you in danger. Ever.”

I thought I was a brave woman. But was I really? I didn’t care whatever my parents did to me for going against them. I had suffered much torment and my step Mom’s arguments and when she hit me twice. I know Dad wouldn’t kill me, but I couldn’t say the same for Harry. Dad just needs a good reason to hurt Harry, and if it were because of me, I would never be able to forgive myself.

“Listen to me once and for all,” Harry growls, fixing me with a glare. I rarely see angry Harry. But today wasn’t an exception. “I don’t give a crap about your fake Mom or your Dad. I want you. I want to marry you. There’s nothing wrong in that. We don’t even have to tell them about any of this.”

Sometimes, I wish he’d see things from my perspective. “But what about the time when they’d want me to get married to one of my cousins?” My nose wrinkles in disgust when I remember my cousin’s creepy eyes always staring at me like a creep.

“Then we run away. Until then, you stay with your parents and we finish school. Then, you move in with me here.”

“How did we end up here?” I half laugh. “How are we supposed to make any of this work?”

Something like pity flashes in his eyes, but is gone that instance. “Do you trust me, or not?”

Always. “Always.”

“Then stop worrying.”

I decided to listen to Harry: stop worrying. If only it were that easy to do. Aiman, Amina, and Anum gaze at me after half an hour of team work. I have to say how impressive they are, their dark locks hung loosely around their shoulders, those big, warm eyes staring at me in the mirror with a friendly look.

I look beautiful.

I am wearing a cream coloured silk satin dress that pools around my feet on the ground in the fanciest way possible, its hem fringed with gold thread. Despite the hour of night, there’s no sleep in my eyes, rather I look like I had a beauty sleep the night prior. I didn’t bother wearing a scarf, or anything  to hide my feminine curves that are far too unnoticeable, and this silk does little to hide them anyway. Aiman is the youngest of the triplet and no less than a makeup artist. I am kind of awed at her talent. A hint of sparkly eye shadow is dusted in the center of my eyes, matching the same dust on my cheekbones. I feel sparkly, but I like it. My eyelashes look longer and thicker, thanks to the magic of mascara.

I blink, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

“Thank you,” I choke out, blinking back the tears. I meet their gazes one at a time in the mirror. “Thank you so much. You all must be tired.”

As if their body heard me, a yawn escapes all three of them. I giggle. There was a time when I used to get baffled regarding things like these where they did everything at the same time.

“Go to sleep, all of you.” I turn in my seat and give them a hug one after the other. I can already tell they’re going to make guys fall at their feet once they grow up as women. Already they are so gorgeous with eyes the lightest shade of brown that could be easily mistaken for green ish. They got their genes from their father. Although they have a pale skin, I can guarantee a few hours under the LA sun could solve that problem. Not that it was a problem, but Harry once told me that Aiman was kind of complex about her skin.

“Nope. Not at all. We want to see Harry’s expression when he sees you in this and without a scarf,” Anum giggles, and a smirk follows. She grabs a small box from the table where make up products are scattered and reveals a camera. “We have this to capture him gawking at you.”

Gawking at me? I try to bite back my laughter. Such big words she is using.

“Yes, Harry always teases us whenever our friends brothers come over. We can finally have something to mock him,” Aiman smiles a triumphant smile that makes my smile grow bigger. I love these girls.

A knock sounds on the door. Then comes an old male voice. “Can we come in?”

“A second please!” Aiman quickly throws me a shawl and I wrap it around my head and body, grateful that it covers till my knees. The man would be the priest. Aiman shouts and the door opens. A man in probably his late fifties slips inside followed by Harry’s mother and another woman who resembles her a lot. My guess is that she is Harry’s aunt, thus being the only family relative he ever meets.

The women hug me, complimenting how gorgeous I look. Soon enough, the priest conducts the Islamic Nikah and I say those three words that make my body shake.

He asks me if I agree to this marriage. Three time. I hesitated the first time, only our of adrenaline, but the other two were quick.

I officially belonged to Harry. Something happened inside my chest.

“Sign here, please,” the priest presents a set of documents that I have to sign. My hands shake when I sign, yet happiness bubbles inside me with every blank space that goes filled with my name. Then, we all raise our hands in front of us and pray for our marriage.

“Congratulation,” he says, and finally gets up. “May Allah SWT always shower His blessings on the couple.”

I didn’t hesitate a second before whispering, “Ameen.”

The women lead the priest away. I wonder if he thinks how weird it is to get married at one in the morning. Maybe he didn’t care, or Harry had made something up. Either way, everything went perfect.

Amina claps her hand I delight, squealing like a hawk. “You’re finally a part of our family now!”

“She was always our family,” Aiman frowns at her sister. “Now she is just Harry’s wife.”

Anum rolls her eyes. “God. He can finally quit being a whiny guy and consume the marriage with his beloved.”

I choke on my tongue. Consume the marriage? How old are these girls?! When I was eleven, I used to play with dolls.

“You really shouldn’t talk like that,” I laugh, cheeks on fire. I can’t even imagine how red I would’ve been if Harry listened to that.

They lift one shoulder in a cool manner.

“Girls!” their Mom yells their name from downstairs. “Come down here! NOW!”

They run away. They actually run away as if they don’t, something might happen.

Once alone with myself, the nerves start kicking in. Surely we’d just talk, right? I mean, his family is just downstairs. . . STOP! You got married just one minute ago and already wicked thoughts started entering your head.

Bad girl.

I count the time. Five seconds pass. Loud footsteps come thudding upstairs, but they’re not as penetrating as the crashing of my heart against my ribs.