She had been dreaming that Daud was near her. Touching her. Her lips slightly spread in a pleasing smile, eyes still closed she moaned,

"Daud"

The fingers on her face stilled. She frowned and her eyes fluttered open finally focusing on the person in front of her. It was like she had woken up from a beautiful dream to a nightmare. There, beside her was her husband and his hand was resting on her cheek. She jerked away from his hand and hastily sat up.

He was frozen kneeling on the grass gazing at her. Did he hear her right? She scurried to the house. Not even giving him a backward glance. He sagged back on the grass and grasped at what just happened.

How long will it take for her to forget Daud?

A terrible sensation replaced his heart as realization dawned upon him. He may have married her but she wasn't his. Rubbing his face with both his hands, a silent prayer left his lips as his eyes rose to the bright blue sky.

Ya Allah grant me patience.

But patience wasn't Salman's trait at all.

****

She was hurrying to Manal's room where she yearned to find solace in this house when a voice stilled her.

"Nawal?" Ghazala called out from the kitchen.

She winced and slowly turned to her mother. Ghazala's disapproving gaze glided up and down Nawal's appearance.

Grabbing Nawal's arm she tugged her out of the kitchen, "We will be back Seema," she said over her shoulder and dragged Nawal up the stairs.

"Mom? Where are you taking me?"

Ghazal ignored Nawal's question and instead opened Salman's room door and pushed her inside. Closing the door behind her, Ghazala glared at her daughter, "What are you wearing?"

Nawal glanced at her clothes and shrugged nonchalantly, "Clothes"

"This is not how a newly wedded bride dresses. What will Salman and Seema think?" She gritted her teeth.

"I don't want to dress up. I'm fine as it is. Besides, they both saw me in this and no one complained." Nawal slumped on the bed. Her mother was giving her a headache now.

Ghazala paid no heed to her daughter's excuses and instead open her suitcase and took out the fancy green dress, "It is a tradition for the girl to wear green the next day after her wedding." Ghazala stressed as she laid the dress on the bed. "I have prepared special breakfast for everyone. Go get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast."

"I don't want to," Nawal whined.

"And wear your jewellery as well." Ghazala ordered as she closed the door and left the room.

She stared at the dress and thoughts flooded back how she had selected this dress to wear for Daud. To please him. To see his eyes lit up with appreciation. But now, it was a forced act. A façade to please the people around her. Her heart wasn't into it. She had to comply. It was an act. All an act.

Half an hour later, Salman walked in his room to find Nawal hovering over the dresser as she hurriedly squeezed the green glass bangles through her hand onto her wrist. She was dressed in a fancy green and gold dress that flared around her elegantly. Her curly dark brown locks were spilled over her back and shoulders. He had never seen her loose hair since they were children. The sight of her in the fancy dress and her dark tresses summersaulted his heart. He couldn't resist himself and he approached her.

She was taking out the gem embellished gold necklace out of its box and when she placed it on her collarbone, their eyes met on the mirror's reflection. Her fingers froze, clutching the necklace to her neck.

His fingers fluttered on her exposed shoulder. He further felt the intricate design of the necklace with his fingers and he stepped closer, "I will do it for you."

His chest was nearly touching her shoulders. She didn't want to be touched by him. She didn't want to be near him at all. She leaned forward towards the dresser, "I can do it myself."

His hand on her shoulder tightened and when she lifted her eyes to his, she could easily detect his rage in them. She braced herself for another round of assault. Instead, he abruptly spun around and left for the bathroom.

She sighed in relief and clasped the necklace securely around her neck. She stared at her reflection and brushed her hair and mused,

He can't win over me with such sweet gestures. It is better we live our own separate lives. He doesn't care for my happiness and nor do I care for his.

****

"Mashaa Allah, my beti is gorgeous," Seema gushed as she kissed Nawal's forehead, "Where is Salman?"

"He was in the bathroom when I left the room," Nawal responded sitting on the dining chair at the large dining table that had been adorned with a large breakfast.

There was halwa (semolina sweet cooked in ghee and dry fruit), cholai (chickpea curry) and puri (fried roti), an assortment of juices, milk and fruits.

Manal had been helping her khala and mother in the kitchen and now gingerly sat beside Nawal, "You look lovely," she beamed taking her hand in hers and examining Nawal's henna design. "You know the saying, the dark henna colour on the wedding means that your husband loves you a lot."

Nawal gazed down at her hands. Indeed, it was very dark henna colour but this henna had had been designed for another man. Her love. And now Salman and love? It was impossible. How silly were the sayings? She chuckled, "I doubt it Manal. If it is up to him, he will kill me in my sleep."

Manal grimaced and was about to defend her brother when Shabbir, Adil and Muhammad entered the room.

Nawal and Manal stood in respect. She went to her father. Shabbir hugged his daughter and then scanned her face for any kinds of regrets or sadness, "How are you beti?"

If only someone would scan her heart and know what she felt but yet again she had to act, "I am good alhumdulilah Daddy." She then respectfully lowered her head in front of Adil who touched her dupatta clad head and murmured, "Jeeti raho (bless you)." She paid the same respect for her father in law and then finally seated herself beside Manal.

Everyone was present except the groom. The clattering of the cutlery was heard and chatting among the adults were on different topics. Nawal filled her plate with all kinds of food as she was famished. But when she took the first bite of the Cholai, Salman walked in the room in a relaxed manner.

In a deep blue navy kurta and pearl white salwar, he was an epitome of the desi good looking men. His broad shoulders had filled out the kurta well and the muscular built chest could be easily noticed in the kurta. The dark navy blue colour complimented his wheatish complexion. As he shook his hands with other men, his biceps flexed under his sleeve.

He greeted everyone and was about to sit with the men when Ghazala said to Manal, "Manal beti why don't you sit here beside me and let the dulha (groom) and dulhan (bride) sit together."

Nawal's food had become difficult to swallow. She clutched the glass of water and gulped. His presence beside her wiped out her hunger. But Ghazala had other ideas. She smiled and scooped a big spoonful of the halwa in a small crystal bowl, "Salman beta it's a tradition to start the next day of the wedding by feeding your bride something sweet." She handed him the halwa bowl.

Taking a teaspoon full of halwa, he offered her. She stared at him and slowly opened her mouth but before she could taste it, he moved the spoon away from her agape mouth, "You will have to try harder," his eyes sparkled with mischief.

Nawal rolled her eyes and muttered, "You can eat it. I don't want it."

"You give up easily. Don't you?" Salman teased.

"Of course not," she hissed.

"Then open your mouth." Salman brought the spoon near her mouth but she didn't open her mouth stubbornly, not ready to given in. Definitely not in any mood to play around with him.

She was very obstinate alright but he knew how to get a reaction out of her. He slithered his other arm around her lower back and his hand splaying over her hip. Her eyes widened and mouth slightly opened. Taking that as a cue, he slipped the spoon in her mouth. She glared while chewing the halwa and he smothered his laughter. Squeezing her hip he let go.

They were both looking at each other when Manal clicked the scene, "Aww you guys are so cute together."

Ya right, thought Nawal. People like to see what they want to see.

"Nawal now it's your turn. C'mon feed Salman," Seema urged her.

Cringing inwardly, she scooped a spoonful of the halwa and stretched her arm towards him with the spoonful of the halwa in her hand. His lips were pursed and he was not relenting easily. Nawal narrowed her eyes, he wants to tease now does he? She smiled impishly and slightly moved her dupatta from her chest, revealing the bodice of her dress. His eyes rounded at what she was doing. He was off guard, she stuffed the spoonful of the halwa in his mouth so hard that the metal of the spoon clanked with his teeth.

She smiled smugly and wiped her hands with the napkin. Ghazala glowered at her daughter but Nawal nonchalantly resumed eating her food disregarding her mother and absolutely ignoring Salman who didn't attempt to touch her or joke around during the meal.

****

It was much later in the afternoon when Ghazala spoke to her daughter in the privacy of her room.

"Nawal grow up now. You better be respecting your husband and your parents in law." Ghazala began her lecture.

Nawal looked away but Ghazala grabbed her chin and turned her around, "Don't mess this up. Do you understand me?"

In defiance, she didn't meet her mother's eyes.

But Ghazala didn't yield, "Girls in our family once are married make their husband's home as their own. They don't abandon his home until they are shrouded in the funeral cloth."

Furious eyes raised to Ghazala, "I asked him for divorce last night."

Ghazala eyes rounded, "What?" she slapped Nawal so hard that her faced jerked the other side.

Nawal's chest was rising and falling rapidly due to her ragged breathing. She stood up and coolly said, "I am not living under your roof anymore. You cannot order me around." With that she stomped out of the room nearly bumping into Salman who was standing at the doorway.

Salman warily approached his furious Khala, "You shouldn't be this hard with her."

Ghazala heaved, "I am telling you, Salman you will always need to have a stern hand to control her. She never understands otherwise."

Salman quietly took in this advice. Ghazala was Nawal's mother, of course, she knew how to tackle her daughter.

He will have to keep this in his mind.

****

Susan pushed Yousef's buggy in the South Circular Mosque female entrance. She was anxious. Her hands were sweating. She had no place to go. After packing their limited belongings in a large backpack she had left with Yousef. Never to look back at her old life.

She had no place to go. Lisa had moved to the UK and since Yousef's birth she had never made any friends. In the moment of weakness, she had made a rash decision to go the mosque. Unbuckling Yousef from the buggy, she perched him on her hip and carried him inside the women's prayer hall. But before she could enter the downstairs prayer hall, a woman in forest green hijab caught her eye in a room on the right side. Hesitantly, she stepped near the room and realized it was a small kitchen. The woman was making tea with her back towards Susan.

"Umm.. Hello."

A young woman in her early twenties turned around and smiled kindly, "Hello."

"I needed some help." Susan spoke reluctantly.

The woman pointed at the kitchen table, "Why don't you sit down. Would you like some tea?"

Susan's stomach was growling. Since last night, she hadn't eaten anything. Daud's accusation that she was after his money had forced her not to even touch the food in the fridge.

"I'd like some."

The woman placed a big mug of Irish tea in front of Susan and then opened a tin box full of different kinds of biscuits, "Have some."

Gratefully, Susan took biscuits to fill her stomach. The woman picked a round biscuit and offered to the toddler who was resting his hand on his mother's chest. He eagerly grabbed the biscuit and started sucking on it.

The woman chuckled, "He likes biscuit. Mashaa Allah he is adorable. What is his name?"

"Yousef"

She smiled, "Beautiful name for a beautiful boy."

Taking a sip of her tea, Susan asked, "And you are?"

"I am Amal and you?"

"Susan"

They had their tea and biscuits in silence when finally Susan gathered her courage to speak her thoughts out loud, "I want to learn about Islam. I like the religion but the people..."

Amal sighed and chewed thoughtfully the biscuit, "Today Muslims aren't the best examples at all. I will gladly help you with any questions you have."

Susan lowered her eyes, "I ... I ... I ... also need help in finding a place to stay."

Amal quietly scrutinized this woman. She didn't know why but the next words came out of her lips before she could even think over the matter, "I am living alone these days. Would you like to move in with me?"

"A..are you sure?" Susan stammered.

There was something about this woman that made Amal trust her, "yes I am sure. My father is gone to Saudi for Umrah and he doesn't plan to come until after he does his Hajj. So that is another two and half months. My sister is married and lives with her family. I am all alone."

Susan's eyes filled her eyes, "Thank you, thank you so much! You don't know how much this means to me. And I promise to pay you rent as soon as I find work."

Amal waved her hand as if dismissing it, "Don't worry about it."

Susan smiled and her eyes wandered the small mosque kitchen, she felt in tranquillity. For the first time in years, she felt she had finally found a purpose in life.

She will work hard for her son.

It was time to prove Daud she didn't need him. When she had God she didn't need a mere mortal.

****

Nawal had stayed in Manal's room for the rest of the evening. She didn't want to face anyone. In Manal's room, she could pretend that she was a single girl again and was staying over at Manal for a girl's time together. But during dinner, she had to face reality again as she sat beside Salman and silently ate her food. Once done, the girls had cleaned the kitchen as they always did.

Nawal was still in no mood to retire to her room, instead she turned to Manal, "Let's watch a movie?"

"Nawal listen for a minute," Salman said from the kitchen threshold.

There was no escape, she had to listen to him. She had been avoiding him all day. She followed him to his room and expectantly rose her eyebrows.

"Let's go out for ice cream? I know you like Gina's Gelato"

Nawal couldn't refuse ice cream at all but the idea of going alone with him was repulsive. Then an idea sprang on her mind, "Sure why not. I will get ready."

Salman exhaled deeply, finally she was listening to him.

Ten minutes later, he was waiting outside in his car when the passenger door by his side opened and Manal slipped in the car. He scowled and then the backdoor also opened and Nawal comfortably sat at the back.

"Let's go Bhai." Manal said enthusiastically.

His eyes threw daggers at her as he gazed at her at the rear view mirror. Nawal looked out the window and covered her lips with her hand and he could easily see she was stifling her giggle. His hand tightened on the steering wheel, this is not what he had planned at all.

"Bhai?"

Manal brought him back to reality and reluctantly he steered the car out of the front yard of the house.

At the Grafton Street, the women were strolling to the Gino's Gelato shop while Salman lagged behind them in a terrible disposition. How long will she continue to play games?

When they arrived at the shop, quickly Manal ordered hers but Nawal was being selective. She was interested in trying a new flavour of the ice cream. Salman encircled his arm around her waist and he murmured, "Why don't we share an ice cream?"

"I don't like to share my food." She wiggled out of his hold and then smiled at the salesman, "Can I get one scoop of the Hazelnut chocolate ice cream in a waffle cone, please."

Salman was seething. The salesman enquiringly looked at Salman for his order after handing Nawal's ice cream. Salman muttered, "I don't want anything. How much is for the two ice creams," He nodded at his sister and wife as he pulled out the wallet from his back pocket of his jeans.

They strolled to the adjacent St. Stephen Green park where sitting in front of the pond they devoured the ice cream. Nawal was busy chatting with Manal and enjoying her ice cream to glance at Salman.

Laughingly at Nawal's joke, Manal glanced her brother, "Bhai you didn't have any ice cream?"

Salman was leaning against a tree with his arms folded over his chest gazing at the women, "I don't want any."

Manal thrust her ice cream to her brother, "Here share with me."

His eyes never left Nawal's face, who was content in eating her ice cream to be bothered about him. The person he wanted to share ice cream was lost in her own world. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pocket before he actually did some serious damage, "No its ok Manal you have yours."

****

"Bhai we had a blast didn't we Nawal?" Manal exclaimed as they entered their home. She nudged Nawal, "Now that we are living under the same roof. I think we will have a blast."

Nawal grinned, "Oh definitely." As she was thinking how to stall going in her room. The sight of Seema in the living room made her grin again, "Khala what are you doing?"

Seema smiled back, "Watching a Pakistani drama."

Nawal loathed watching dramas but right now anything was better than going up in her room, "Oooh I would love to watch with you." Saying this she cosily sat on the sofa and watched with her new mother in law for the next few hours.

Frustrated, Salman had gone to his study and worked until exhaustion. He was getting agitated he couldn't argue with his mother and sister who Nawal preferred over him. But it was unnerving. The paper in his hand crumbled, how long will she run away from him. In the end, they shared one room.

It was hours later, when the house was dark and quiet Nawal sauntered to her room. Hoping against hope that Salman would be asleep. Seeing, he was laying on bed motionless, Nawal sighed in relief. She hurriedly changed into her comfortable cotton pyjamas and cautiously lay down on her side of the bed. Her back was towards Salman, facing the window she recited the night supplications and drowsily closed her eyes.

An arm snaked around her waist, she covered her mouth to stifle her scream. He pulled her back towards, her back crushing against his chest.

"How long do you think you can run away from me?" he breathed into her ear.

She stiffened, "Leave me."

"Oh no, it's about time you act as my wife." His lips skimming down the side of her neck.

"Stop please." She tried to squirm away from his hold but his arm tightened around her.

His lips moved up her chin, she turned her face away from him, her eyes shutting hard, "Stop, stop."