The aroma of freshly baked scones filled his parents' home as he entered the kitchen. It was late afternoon, days were getting warmer and with it brightening the home with sparkling sunlight. The kitchen windowsill was filled with colourful spring flowers and the radiators were switched off as temperatures reached in double digits.

"Where have you been busy all these days? You haven't bothered to visit us," an annoying Chloe asked her son. Her hands were on her hips and she was frowning, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"My mother darling, your son was busy at work and with his fiancé," Daud winked.

Chloe's eyes widened, "Really, you have been seeing her?" she was surprised knowing the Islamic teachings of no communication between the couple before the matrimonial ceremony of nikkah.

He smirked and kissed his Mom's cheek, "Yes and your would-be daughter in law kept me busy."

Her eyes softened, "Well I am glad to see you are happy. That's all that matters to me."

"You have been baking right? I can smell some goodies." Daud asked arcing as he sniffed.

"Yes there are freshly baked scones. I will put the kettle on and so you can have it with tea." Chloe said moving towards the electric kettle on the kitchen counter.

Daud touched his mom's arm lightly, "No Mom I will make tea, why don't you sit there" he gently turned his Mom and pointed at the kitchen chair, "And tell me all the new gossips of your friends."

Daud was busy preparing the Irish tea while Chloe spoke of her friends and in within few minutes Ibrahim was home. He had one glance at his son and a smile broke his tired face.

"It's good to see you, son."

Daud smiled back and placed the tea mugs on the kitchen table.

"Take out the jam and butter from the fridge so we can have it with scones," Chloe called out as Daud was taking out the tray of scones from the oven.

When all of them were seated around the kitchen table savouring tea and the scones, Ibrahim broke the silence, "I have to talk to you about the wedding plans."

Daud nodded thoughtfully, "Yes that is what I am here for."

"Where would you want the valima? At the masjid community hall or somewhere else?" Ibrahim asked as he sipped his tea.

"I want the valima in a big hotel and I want you to invite every single of your acquaintances. So that all may know about your son's wedding." Daud said with a determination.

Ibrahim frowned, "I would prefer a moderate valima. Why spend so much money?"

Daud pursed his lips so that he wouldn't say something that would offend his father. What he really wanted to say was he wanted to prove the world and especially Dada jaan that he can marry a pious Muslim girl which his grandfather believed he wasn't worth of.

"Well I have told you what I think. Rest is up to you," Daud mumbled as he bit into the jam filled scone.

"Ok let's get a booking done in a hotel and then we will work out the guest list." Ibrahim suggested.

Daud nodded lost in his broodings that less than two months were left. He was eagerly waiting for the days to pass so he could start his married life with Nawal. He cursed himself every day for why he accepted these torturous four months period until the wedding. It seemed these four months had dragged the longest in his life. But as he discussed with his parents the wedding preparations, he couldn't stop being excited knowing time was coming near finally.

****

Ghazala's bed was scattered with chiffon, silk, georgette and satin salwar kameez and saris. They were all designed with intricate motifs and patterns of zardosi, thread embroidery, pearls, Swarovski diamonds and beads. The elegant dresses were decades old but since Ghazala had kept them safely all these years they were still intact and were treasured with the classic designs that were not made today and were too pricey to do so.

Nawal was standing beside her mother, biting her lower lip in concentration and gazing at the different extravagant clothes. She had seen some of these dresses when she was growing up but many of these dresses seemed they weren't even worn.

"You are nearly the same size as I was when I got married." Ghazala spoke, perching on the bed. "These are all the dresses your grandmothers from both side of the family had gifted me at my wedding." Looking at her daughter's eyes, her heart broke knowing Nawal was leaving in a few days, "I want you to choose which ever dresses you like."

As Nawal's eyes met her mother's, she was shocked to see sadness brimming in those dark brown eyes. Warily, she stepped closer and delicately traced the fabric of the deep purple chiffon sari. Her favourite colour was purple and Daud had complimented her, saying that he liked purple on her. "I like this sari."

Ghazala couldn't stand it anymore. Time was slipping fast. Days were running. Nights were eroding. Nawal will not be only her daughter or a sister to her sons but a wife. She feared whether her daughter will be happy with that man. She had doubts. Many doubts. But now after battling for so many months, she had given up and accepted defeat. It was time to prepare her daughter for the wedding.

"Choose whatever you like and put them in your closet for now. We will pack them properly when the time is near for the wedding." Saying that Ghazala stomped out of the room. Leaving her daughter amidst the vintage dresses.

Nawal didn't understand her mother at all. In many months, this was the first act of kindness she had seen her mother display towards her. Sighing, she selected a few of her mother's dresses and with an arm full of dresses she left her parents room with only one thought,

If only she had loving relationship with her mother, life would have been so different.

****

It was late evening, the sun was still glowing as the days were getting longer day by day. Salman's office was illuminated with sunlight from the large window on the far side of the room. Salman didn't care of the weather, he was more concerned about the two men sitting in front of him. Time was running fast.

Elbows resting on the desk, forearms raised and fingers laced, Salman piercing gaze scrutinized the two investigators he had appointed.

"It has been nearly a month, what is the progress?" Salman solemnly asked.

"We did background check on Daud." Niall placed the file on the desk and slide it towards Salman, "He has very few friends. None are close. There were some girlfriends that he had dated for few months but after breaking up there was no contact between Daud and the women."

"This is not good enough. I need more details." Salman muttered in displeasure as he scanned the information in the file.

"He has recently been going out with his fiancé. We have captured some pictures." Peter announced in a low tone. He set a large brown envelope on the desk, "This envelope contains some intimate pictures of them."

Salman's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. He had a notion that Nawal had feelings for Daud but he had never imagined she would be spending time with him. Knowing Daud's past, he had an inkling what was going on between the couple. His nostrils flared as his temper increased.

"What else? There must be something of his past. Some debt problems. Some broken hearts. Some fraud. Something. Anything." Salman demanded slamming the file on the desk.

Niall shook his head barely, "Nothing so far. He is clean"

"I paid you a fortune and you give me this shit," Salman threw the file across the desk, "I want you to look deeper of his life. You have three weeks."

"Salman you don't understand. There is nothing." Peter tried to convince him.

"I understand very well. You are not doing your fucking job the way I want." Salman hissed through his gritted teeth. "Leave the envelope and get out of here. I am giving you three weeks. Remember that."

Warily, both men stood and on unsteady legs left the office. For many minutes, Salman stared blindly at the envelope unable to bring the courage to look at the contents. Finally, with trembling fingers he tore open the large brown paper envelope. The contents fell on the desk. The pictures scattered in front of him. His eyes weren't able to decipher what he was looking.

Daud with is arms around Nawal as he lifted her to the horse.

Nawal's arms encircled Daud's neck.

Daud tickling Nawal.

Daud chasing Nawal.

But there was one picture hidden under the other pictures. He pushed aside the top pictures and froze.

His love was locked in a passionate embrace with his nemesis.

His jaw clenched hard. The muscle at his temple throbbed. And his hands curled in fists. He banged his fists on the wooden desk. His hand throbbed but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. In aggression, he yelled and swiped off the contents of the desk with his arm. His laptop crashed on the ground. Stationary clattered loudly. The pictures spread across his office floor.

He was breathing hard. He had to dig deeper in Daud's life and find out some flaw that will tear them apart.

But what?

****

Nawal was sitting crossed legged on the floor in her bedroom with an open suitcase. Fiza was handing her clothes from the wardrobe.

"So this is it then? Our little Nawal is getting married," Fiza teased, handing Nawal a pile of her salwar kameez.

"Well, I will still have a couple of weeks of a single woman when I come back." Nawal mused out loud, taking the pile of clothes from her sister in law.

"Did you decide what colour wedding and valima dresses you want?" Fiza questioned as she sat beside Nawal on the floor and started folding her clothes.

Nawal shook her head but a thought pinked her cheeks slightly, "Daud did mention some colours," she spoke softly.

Fiza's eyebrow rose, "Really? And what did dhula sahib (the groom) had to say?"

With a faraway look in her eyes and a small smile tugging at her lips, Nawal replied, "He wants a traditional wife. He has asked for blood red for the wedding and said I can choose anything I like for valima."

"Great then, you shouldn't have problems finding the ideal red wedding dress. And what about valima? What have you thought then?"

"I don't know I will just decide when I see the variety and designs when I shop in Karachi," Nawal shrugged.

"You are leaving this weekend right?" Fiza asked for confirmation.

Nawal nodded and set her pink salwar kameez in the suitcase, "Yes inshaa Allah. Mom and I are leaving this weekend for three weeks."

"So half of your Ramadan will be spent there. It will be very hectic for you."

"Yes, I know. But we don't have time. The wedding is set five days after Eid. When I come back I will have two weeks left for last minute preparations." Nawal's shoulders sagged as she realized how much there was to do and so little time left.

"I will help out. Shahbaz was saying once you are back we continue to stay here and help out until the wedding," Fiza offered with a smile. Fiza and Shahbaz had moved in Nawal's home so that they can help out with the chores and Fiza will be able to prepare the required diabetic food for Shabbir in the absence of Ghazala.

"That will be great. Samreen bhabi is too busy with kids but you are free even if you are pregnant you can still help out," Nawal winked.

Fiza patted her 6-month pregnant stomach, "Well aren't you lucky Nawal phuphu, your niece or nephew is a calm baby and that is why I am very active so far."

Nawal chuckled, "All my nieces and nephews love me."

They continued to pack clothes for Nawal's Karachi trip. A smile lingered on Nawal's lips indicating her happiness. She was ecstatic as the days rolled by fast. She had great plans for the wedding shopping. Daud had given a generous amount for the wedding and valima trousseaus and then Shabbir had also said there was no set budget, Nawal could buy whatever she required.

She was definitely looking forward to shopping but most of all waiting eagerly for the time when she will wear it all for her husband. Her love.

But deep down there was a niggling feeling that something will go wrong. She tried her best to ignore it, believing it was just nerves but it was growing with each passing day. She was praying hard to let the wedding be concluded peacefully and happily.

But her supplications will go in vain as Allah had destined entirely different than what Nawal desired.

Allah was the All-wise

And He was the best of planners.

****

"I don't think I should be coming here, Daud," Nawal said nervously as she stepped into his apartment.

Daud locked the door behind her, "Don't worry I spoke to uncle about it and told him, I wanted to show you around the apartment before you leave for Karachi so that if you want any changes done I can do that now before the wedding."

Nawal whirled around and her eyes rounded, "Daddy said it was ok?"

"Yes he did," he nodded, grasping her shoulders and turned her around, "Now my dear, I want to show you around. You tell me, what changes you want." He leaned forward and whispered in her, "And then I treat you to my famous cooking."

She side glanced at him and her lips slowly spread in an appreciating smile, "You cook?"

"Your man has many qualities. You will know soon after the wedding." He said huskily. His hands on her shoulders, he lightly tugged her towards to the living room, "This is my humble home. Nothing fancy just one bedroom apartment. I plan after few months of the wedding we will purchase a big house at south Dublin. After all, we can't accommodate here the big family I plan to have." He smirked mischievously.

Nawal blushed and her eyes lowered. Daud chuckled, taking her hand he pulled her in the living room. "The kitchen and living room are together. I know it's not big but cosy enough."

"It's beautiful. I like how you décor it." Nawal voiced her opinion.

"Ya well, I am interested in interior designing. This is all my work and ideas." He said, smiling at her.

There was a black L-shaped sofa spread across the living room. One wall had a 40-inch flat screen television while other walls had abstract art paintings. The kitchen had all the modern amenities and sleek red kitchen cabinets. The small round glass kitchen table was set between the sofa and kitchen bringing it a more homely environment.

"It is a little masculine but I still like it." Nawal gave her honest judgement.

"You can add your flowers and colours as you wish," Daud replied, smirking but soon frowned when he noticed she was still in her outer wear. "Take off your cardigan. It's a warm day today." She shrugged off her Irish wool grey cardigan and draped it on the sofa.

As she was peeling off her cardigan, Daud's mobile phone shrilled in the quiet apartment. Gazing at the caller id, Daud's eyebrows knotted in disapproval, "Just a moment" he said and answered the call. He walked few steps away from Nawal and spoke in soft tones that she wasn't able to decipher much.

Baffled, she looked away from him. He had always taken calls in front of her. What was so private about the call that he had to talk in hush tone? But she didn't have time to ponder much because in just a few moments she felt his fingers interlacing with hers.

"Sorry, I had to take that call. Anyways now where were we?" Squeezing her hand in his, Daud then tugged her towards the hall comprising of three doors.

"This one is the bathroom," he pointed at the first door. Then he raised his finger at the second door, "This is the store room and laundry room."

Nawal nodded.

"And this is the bedroom," he opened the last door. A gasp escaped Nawal's lips as she stared at the room in front of her. She entered the room and scanned the surroundings. The bedroom was huge. There was a king sized bed with white and black bedding in the centre of the room against one wall. On top of the wall was yet another abstract painting. On one side, was a dresser and a large full-length mirror and beside it was a wall sized window from where the sunlight illuminated the room. The last wall had built-in spacious closet from the ceiling to the floor with six doors.

"There is sufficient space for your clothes. And if you want more space we can always get a new wardrobe or chest of drawers," Daud said after noticing Nawal was lost in her thoughts gazing at the closet.

She shook her head slowly, "No, this would be sufficient." She turned to him and smiled, "Mashaa Allah your apartment is wonderful. I love it."

He lightly urged her towards the bed with his hands on her arms and she sank on it. He went knelt down in front of her, rubbing her knees, "This will be your home in over a month's time. You can do as you please." His index finger faintly traced the side of her face. His finger timidly moving from her forehead to the crease of the corner of her eye leisurely sliding down her cheek and then to her jaw. Nawal closed her eyes and sucked in her breath. The passionate feelings were rushing within her as his fingertip played with the edge of her hijab on the side of her jaw.

"You know I love your hair a lot," he murmured as he loosened her hijab. Her eyelids rose. He was so close that she could see the dark outline of his blue eyes. The hijab was tugged free and the cool air in the room kissed her neck as the hijab fell on the bed. Her cheeks warmed and eyelids dipped. The band in her hair was taken off. His fingers sank through her hair. Her heart beat rose. Her chest rising and fall rapidly.

"Nawal," his voice a bare whisper.

Her eyelids lifted and his lips crushed hers. She was lost. Truly lost. He had never kissed her this passionately. Hesitantly, she lifted her hands to his shoulders. She kissed him back bashfully. He pressed her shoulders with his hands, encouraging her to lay on the bed. In that heat of the moment, she was unconscious of the change in her position. He was leaning over her, his hand gliding up and down her sides, feeling her curves. His kisses became softer. His lips lingering on hers until he pulled back. She was disappointed feeling a loss but when his lips touched the curve of her neck, her heartbeat doubled and she moaned.

He lightly nibbled the side of her neck. Delicately, he dusted a trail of soft kisses from the skin under her ear and slowly down to her collar bone, savouring every touch and taste of her. The sensations he was kindling within her were never felt before. Her neck arced on its own accord and her hands ran through his hair. And she gulped when his lips skimmed on her collar bone that was exposed over her dark pink top.

With ease, he unbuttoned the first fastened button on her shirt. He then released the next button from its mooring. His fingers gaping the shirt, his lips caressing the newly exposed skin. When he unbuttoned the third button, his fingertips stroked the lace of her purple bra. She jolted as his fingers touched the forbidden place.

This was too soon.

Not yet.

Taking hold of his probing hand, she jerked it away and pushed him off her. Immediately, he slid to his side and lay on the bed beside her. She sat up, unable to look at him, she hurriedly buttoned her top, then twisted her hair in a messy bun and with shaking fingers wrapped the hijab carelessly around her head.