"Did his family speak to you yet?"

It was two days and six hours since Zaib's spontaneous visit. A sunny but cold morning welcomed her as she rushed to the kitchen to make herself some herbal tea when out of nowhere Naimat had rung the doorbell and hurried in as if it were her own home.

"Yes, they spoke to my parents. We're meeting this Friday Insha Allah," she mumbled trodding to the fridge with a goofy smile and pulling out the tin of butter.

"I can't believe I had to hear of my own best friend's proposal from someone else! You're ugly and uninvited to my wedding," her nostrils flared and with a fiery gaze, she glared at the girl preparing their breakfast. She plopped down on the kitchen stool with a hmph. Zoya sighed turning towards her bitter friend.

"I've apologized like three hundred times Naim. I'll make it three-hundred-and-one times. Forgive me, my precious friend," Zoya slapped her hands together sarcastically. Naimat sighed, playfully rolling her eyes.

"So like, I'm coming on Friday. I want to be there since I wasn't here when he first came to see you," Naimat declared as she sipped her tea and grabbed the slice of bread which Zoya had already splayed with butter. Zoya nodded, flattening a thick layer on her bread.

"So... do you like really 'like' him? Or is it just to get married off?" Zoya remained silent but an inevitable smile broke her face and she looked down immediately, feeling her body heat up. Naimat stared calculating her body language. As she worked out the math, she bounced off the stool and jumped on Zoya with a deafening squeal.

"Oh my Allah! I can't believe this. Zoya, we've fallen for best-friends who've fallen for us. Is this what heaven feels like? This is absolutely crazy!" She yelled with her full heart. Zoya responded to her bone-crushing hug with a laugh and hugged her back with an equal amount of joy.

-:-

The masjid was as lively as ever as she walked in with the largest smile and a load full of gifts and food. Everyone scrambled around her and Naimat as they distributed the items to the children and the workers there. Almost everyone had disappeared from around them as they unboxed their gifts with desperate gazes and excitement throttling them. They laughed and shared as they appreciated all the gifts.

"Hm, what is it our lucky week?" Maya quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. Zoya stared back confuzzled at her words. "What do you mean Belles?" She asked, kneeling down to her.

"First that Zain guy decides to flood us with a crazy amount of toys now you're back with more. What's going on Mushu?" Maya explained, her eyes glittering with excitement. Hearing this, she sat speechless, her body stiffening at the mention of him.

He did? Was it because he was happy... happy for their marriage? Could it be? Her heartbeat escalated as she thought of him. Was he as joyous and excited as her?

"That's because that Zaib guy and Mushu are about to get married."

Zoya gasped, jerking up to punch Naimat but she seemed to dodge it as she slid around to where stood an astonished Maya.

"Oh my God, really?" She almost whispered. Zoya remained quiet. Before she could explain, Maya jumped into a hug, her tiny arms just reaching her waist as she rested her head on her abdomen. "That's great Mushu!"

Filled with warmth, Zoya returned the embrace and giggled as Naimat joined in flicking away an imaginary tear.

-:-

Friday. It was Friday. It was Jummu'ah.

Upon awakening, Zoya dashed to the bathroom and after brushing her teeth, she applied her citrus face mask. Naimat was specifically good at making homemade products using food expertise. According to her, commercial companies were only good at scamming and weren't even aware of the products they sold on the market; their main aim? Making millions of bucks. And yeah that's about it.

The world would be a better place if people just educated themselves of the simple benefits of the nutrients they consumed. Since she was studying nutrition, her world had become easier and so had Zoya's. Knowing what was going on your face was better than artificial creams and cleansers with unknown chemicals in them.

Rushing out of the bathroom, she noticed Bilal sitting on her bed. As he looked up, he started to chuckle. "Is my baby sister trying to look pretty?" He remarked, eyeing her humorously.

Knowing he'd just cause her stress, she rolled her eyes and ignored his calls as she rushed out to the breakfast table where her parents sat talking. They chuckled at their daughter who munched up an apple and dashed back upstairs to wash off the face wash.

Then she took a shower and chose her outfit for the special day. She came across her navy skirt and decided to match it up with her white polka dotted sweater; her hijab and her heels were also a navy.

Apparently, she owned a lot of blue, maybe because it was unofficially her favorite color?

She smiled at her slim but tall reflection on the mirror and then unzipped her make up pouch. Maybe she was over excited for the whole situation but she wanted to look good, for him.

She applied a layer of concealer under her eye bags and then puffed the red blush onto her cheeks. Well, honestly, she didn't really need a blush once he was around.

Her mascara exaggerated her eyelashes and the highlighter emphasized her cheekbones. She grabbed her favorite pink lipstick and as she was about to color her lips, her heart began to thud and she dropped the lipstick into the pouch.

Lipstick. She couldn't apply one. The thought of him looking at her lips made her tremble.

"Naimat's here Zoe!" Bilal's shout from the living room pulled her out of her conversation with her inner self. She dashed out and jerked Naimat into an excited embrace.

"Zoe, you look stunning!" Naimat, her number one hype woman screamed. Zoya smiled.

"Me? Look at yourself!" She responded, eyeing Naimat's red a-line dress which reached below her knees paired with white leggings and a blazer. "Ehsan will be around I'm guessing?" She added with a smirk.

"He's accompanying Zaib," she muttered, smiling to the ground.

"Good excuse." Naimat punched her arm playfully as Zoya giggled.

"They're on their way," Bilal announced and skidded away into the living room. Ever since he was informed of Zaib's visit that night, he was unbearably happy. He later went to Zoya and talked to her, telling her he wasn't mad about her rejecting Zaib but only frustrated at how she didn't clarify the reason.

Wordless rejection could hurt someone immensely and Bilal was heavily aware of it.

It seemed like hours had passed but upon inspecting the clock, she realized only ten minutes had gone by. She frowned and sat playing with her fingers.

And finally to their relief, the bell chimed and reverberated within the house. Zoya and Naimat immediately buckled up, their eyes larger than the gap between the twin towers. And they frantically hustled into the four walls of Zoya's blue room.

"What're you guys doing? It's the mailman," Bilal chuckled from outside the door and the girls relieved a sigh and Zoya internally face palmed.

They opened the door and walked out.

There by the entrance he stood, a white sweater and a long beige coat hugging his body, his arm stretched behind him resting on the door knob, his hair brushed off his forehead giving her a clear view of his eyes; the eyes she remembered as the warmest after her father's.

She gasped but stayed put, mesmerized.

As his eyes sauntered to her, the aggressive gaze he usually carried softened and his tense frame loosened. His grip on the door knob tightened as he absorbed the breathless view before him.

"Zaib, I can't get through!" Zain's screech jerked him out of his moment as he realized he had held onto the door, his brother still outside.

As he let the door open wide and Zain entered, his eyes drew back to where she was standing only to find nothing but an empty corridor.

He frowned.

Zoya had spun at the speed of lightning and escaped out of his sight like a mirage. The kitchen smelt of baked lasagna, veggies and meatballs? She smiled at her red faced mother, working herself to the core.

"Why didn't you ask for my help mama?" She mumbled, feeling remorseful at her mother's condition.

Mariam turned to her daughter's voice and flashed a tired smile. "You've always cooked for us. I wanted to cook for you and your soon to be family," she explained.

Zoya smiled even though tears threatened to fall. Darn it, the household was sure an emotional mess. Naimat joined from behind. "I'm going to be getting auntie Mariam's food today! Can this day get any better?" She boosted, her eyes dazzling with admiration.

Mariam giggled before handing the girls' the trays of food. "Take this to the dining room and inform your baba," she ordered her daughter before hopping off to garnish the custard.

Zoya and Naimat took the trays to the carpeted dining room which was only used when special guests were to be fed; it was well equipped with extravagant chandeliers and luxurious velvet curtains. Even the aura there was foreign to Zoya as she had barely been a part of it. It was mostly her father's friends who'd gather there for dinners.

As they placed the dishes, the door suddenly slid open and in walked her father accompanied by Zaib's father. Zoya quickly moved to the corner, saying her Salam as they entered.

"Wa Alaykum Aslam, Zoya. How're you doing dear?" She recognized uncle Abdullah's voice as gentle as Zaib's and smiled instantly. "Alhamdulillah, I'm well uncle." She told him.

He smiled back and an aged crinkle appeared at the corner of his eye. As they proceeded to sit down on the chairs, a little figure came running up to her from across the room.

"Zoya!" The little one squealed. Zoya giggled. "Zayna, how's my girl doing?" Zoya smiled, hugging the petite brunette. "I'm great Zoya. I want to hear more of prince Ali's tales today. I was thinking about them all week," she cried with her eyes dazzling in excitement. Zoya nodded enthusiastically.

As Zayna took a seat, Zoya noticed Zaib's mother and his brother entering. Naimat and her greeted them and they replied gruffly. She looked behind at a tall figure and her eyes met Zaib's. He stood upright with Bilal and his friend Ehsan who happened to have been staring at Naimat with a dreamy smile.

Zaib stared right at her as he took a seat.

She looked away and hurried out to the kitchen.

"Did you see Ehsan? We're matching today!" Naimat squealed as they entered the kitchen to bring out the rest of the dishes. Zoya stared back dumbfounded.

"Really?" She mumbled. "You guys probably planned it, didn't you!" Zoya accused and Naimat giggled with a hint of guilt.

Zoya felt her chest tighten. The couple was adorable. If only Zaib and her could talk more privately. She felt her eyes widen, her bewildered thoughts shocking her. Not only was she becoming jealous of her best friend but she was also daydreaming about talking to a unknown man without restraints.

Did Zaib bring the worst out of her?

"I know what you're thinking. No you're not wrong to be thinking that," Naimat intruded as she took the bowl of salad from the counter and handed it to Zoya who stood confused.

"Are you a psychic?" Zoya tried dodging the topic but Naimat always saw right through her as if she were a transparent piece of glass.

"The jealousy you feel, you don't have to be ashamed about it."

"You're in love Zoya and love brings out the best and the worst in you."

Love?