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The news of Daud's wedding had spread like forest fire. Ibrahim wasn't able to contain his happiness. Finally, his only son was getting married. It hadn't taken Ibrahim long to inform Adil. The late afternoon of the fine autumn day, Ibrahim sat beside his father in Muhammad's living room.

"Aba jee, I have good news. Daud and Susan's nikkah has been set for the coming Friday," Ibrahim breathlessly informed.

There was a deafening silence. Sitting erectly on the arm chair, Adil was motionless. His fingers gripped tightly the walking cane. He exhaled deeply and then imperceptibly nodded.

Even at this age, when Ibrahim was nearing his own old age, he couldn't dare to coax his father to be present at the nikkah. As the eldest and dutiful son, it was his responsibility to inform Adil of the wedding. It was irrelevant whether Adil choose to come to the wedding or not.

"It will be at Clonskeagh Mosque after Asr (late afternoon) prayer." Ibrahim went on.

"What is after Asr?" Muhammad intervened as he sauntered into the room.

The ends of Ibrahim's lips lifted slightly, "Daud's nikkah."

Muhammad's eyes widened and his face broke into a broad smile, "Mashaa Allah. Who is the lucky girl who finally tamed him?" he asked as he stepped closer to hug his brother in felicitations.

"Susan."

Nodding curtly, Muhammad stepped back from Ibrahim, "Alhumdulilah, this is even better. Finally, he is settling down with her. The child needs his father."

Where Muhammad was genuinely pleased to hear the news, Salman stood frozen at the threshold of the room, there was suddenly bitter taste in his mouth after listening to the conversation. He was not interested in Daud's life. He recklessly hoped that Daud stayed away from his family. He respected his uncle but he had strong desire to maintaining lengthy distances from his devious and conspiring cousin. He was still suffering from the damages instilled by Daud. Nawal's slow recovery pained him more than he could ever express. Nawal's bewilderment expressions, her inability to do small chores of looking after herself and the difficulty in taking care of their daughter, clenched his heart tightly. If only it was in his power he would ease all these struggles from Nawal's life. At this time of need, Allah had blessed him with immense patience where he was able to stand tall and be her support.

He spun around and strode off to the bedroom. Nawal was sitting crossed legged on the bed with Rania on her lap. She was nursing the baby with a small formula milk bottle. She was oblivious to Salman as he walked in. Her eyes capturing every little detail of the baby.

He perched on the bed beside her, "She is nearly asleep," he said peering at the baby.

She tilted her face to him, "It's good you are here. I need help in burping her. I fear she will wake up if I move her."

"She needs to burp and even if she wakes up you can pat her back until she lulls back to sleep," Salman softly murmured.

Nawal placed one hand under Rania's head and then the other under her bum. Lifting the baby to her shoulder, Nawal patted the baby's back for few minutes. But there was no burp. She raised her eyebrows inquisitively at Salman.

"Patience my love," Salman whispered.

Her hand stilled hearing the endearment. Did she hear him right? Her eyelids lowered and she quietly resumed rubbing the baby's back until finally the baby's burp noise echoed in the room.

"Will she wake up when I put her in her crib?" Nawal asked in a hushed tone as she slowly rose to her feet.

"No she should be fine. She looks in deep sleep," he replied.

Slowly and carefully, Nawal tucked Rania in her crib and covered her with a cotton blanket. It had been few days now that she was back at home. The first few days were very difficult to do her normal day to day routine. She was in a haste to be the mother of her daughter but with her health it wasn't possible. The first time Nawal had bottle fed Rania, the baby had fussed, spiting most of the milk. Exasperated, Nawal had looked at Salman who had sat beside her, "I don't think she wants milk."

His hand had covered hers and he changed her angle of holding the bottle, "Do it this way."

With just a change in the bottle position, Rania was more comfortable during the feeding time. Mortified, Nawal had hotly said, "I know how to feed a baby."

"Of course you do." He had immediately retorted. She had expected a mocking look as she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. Instead, his face had shone with pride. It was then her shoulders relaxed, not realizing how rigidly she had been sitting in anxiousness. After losing nearly two months of her motherhood time, guilt-ridden, she was desperate to be the best mother to Rania.

Even now, as she stood next to the crib, looking down at the sleeping baby, Nawal mused out loud, "She is so perfect." She smiled sardonically, "At least, she is not wary of strangers."

Salman came behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, he pulled her to him, "You are no stranger" he whispered in her ear.

His ministrations were foreign to her. She was slowly getting accustomed to his attention. They were subtle affectionate gestures but they reflected his deep feelings. Tucking a lock behind her ear, squeezing her hand or smiling selflessly were slowly easing all her doubts about him.

A tight knot formed in her throat. She felt a stranger holding her baby after so many weeks. With great effort, she smiled pretentiously, her eyes still lingering on the sleeping baby, "You are right."

There was no need to inform Nawal of Daud's wedding. She was stressed as it was. There was no doubt in Salman's heart that his wife was his alone. There was still a need to express it all. He was taking small steps towards bridging the gap in this relationship. There would come a time when there would be no misunderstandings and distances.

Soon.

Very soon.

****

There was exactly one week to the nikkah. Daud and his parents had decided it would be best to have the marriage reception (valima) right after the nikkah where only close family and friends would be invited. Much was needed to be done.

It was a start of an industrious week. The next day of the proposal, Chloe took Susan for a wedding dress shopping. Susan had opted for a Pakistani traditional wedding dress. There were hardly any ethnic wear shops in Dublin. The few shops had very limited options. After scrutinizing the contents of nearly all the shops, their last option was to try out the desi clothes shop at the heart of the Celtic city. By the Grand Canal, Chloe and Susan entered the store where the incense fragrance teased their noses. Susan was flabbergasted to find so many different colours fabrics, variety of designs and the immense amount of jewellery at the small store.

"How may I help you?" the shop owner Sadia welcomed them with a warm smile.

Chloe smiled back, "We are looking for a Pakistani wedding dress."

Sabah's eyes sparkled with delight, "We have a good variety." She gestured with her hand, "Why don't you come this way." She pointed at the rack where heavily embroidered dresses were hanging.

One by one, Sadia displayed the colourful variety in front of the two women. Perplexed, Susan was not only confused what to choose but most of all not even one dress had touched her heart. Her shoulders slouched as a heap of dresses was laid in front of them. She muttered to Chloe under her breath, "I don't think I will ever find the wedding dress."

But the next second, Sadia unfolded a dress that was wrapped in plastic bag. The dress caught Susan's eye. The ivory chiffon dress comprised of dull gold zardosi, Swarovski diamonds and pearls intricate embroidery. The dress wasn't not heavily embellished like the previous dresses they had been viewing. Instead, it radiated feminine beauty and elegance.

Susan bit her inner cheek, the dress seemed expensive. She was hesitant to express her preference. However, Chloe solved her dilemma.

"I think this is beautiful. What do you say Susan?" Chloe rubbed the material of the dress between her fingertips.

"It looks costly." Susan breathed.

"You don't need to worry about that," Chloe dismissed entirely the issue regarding its cost. Instead, she turned Sadia, "We are interested in purchasing this dress. What is the cost?"

Susan had gasped listening to the sum. Chloe hadn't abated a single eyelash. Instead, had easily conceded. It was when Chloe was paying with the debit card that she noticed the name on the card.

Daud Siddique.

Chloe smiled gently, "You will never find a miserly husband in Daud. He will grant all your needs. Now let's give your measurements so that we can get this dress altered before the wedding."

Susan was living in a daze. It was only a few days back where she had to spend each cent with caution but now how circumstances had changed.

Indeed, with hardship comes ease.

It is He who bestows His slave with all kinds of blessings.

[Holy Quran: Surah Rahman].

*****

After breakfast, Seema and Nawal were chatting while baby Rania was rocking on her bouncer. The two month old baby was learning to smile at people around her. It was evident she enjoyed chatting like any female where she contently sat on her bouncer listening to her mother and grandmother.

"Baji was asking whether you and Rania would like to visit her in the next couple of days," Seema took a sip of her tea.

Nawal's warmed her cold hands around the tea mug, "I don't know Khala. May be next week."

"Beti, in life we need to be forgiving and let go of the old grievousness for the sake of the relationship. Your mother wants to mend your relationship with her," Seema reminded her.

"I know Khala." Bringing the mug to her lips, Nawal murmured, "No matter what I can't be angry at Mom." She gazed at her own daughter, "She is who she is. But I have learned one thing. I will never be a mother like her. I want to be my daughter's friend. A person she can confide without any reservations."

"You will be that and more," Salman said coming into the room. He grabbed cookies from the platter set on the coffee table as he sat beside Nawal on the luxurious fabric sofa.

This had become a norm now. He seemed to be praising her and more so to boost her self-esteem. She was relatively happy but it was all so new. This was a new side of Salman she was seeing. But that was a lie. She remembered this Salman from their youth when he would always be sweet to her. However, as she grew older she had become rebellious and would land into trouble that had irritated him.

Seema's heart was content seeing finally her son and daughter in law were at peace. Indeed after great struggle, they were together as one.

She heaved, there were some unpleasant issues that needed attention, "Your father has said we should all be present at Daud's nikkah."

Nawal grew rigid. Daud's nikkah? She had no clue of this. All she knew was that he was responsible for the accident that led her to coma. At the mention of his name, she had inwardly cringed. She still didn't remember what happened that day. But knowing Daud, she had fair idea of how persisted he was in the last one year for her to continue their illicit relationship.

"We are not going Ammi," Salman solemnly concluded.

"I know how you feel, beta. But... you should be glad he is finally moving on." Seema said perusing her son's face.

"Some things are not to be forgiven or forgotten."

"Forgiveness is a trait of a Muslim." Seema reminded him softly.

Nawal could easily sense the escalating tension in the room. Her eyes imploring, she slowly shook her head, "Khala not now."

"Now and never." Salman shot to his feet and stomped out of the room in anger.

Was forgiveness really not possible?

*****

The full moon shone from the window that was partially covered by the plain beige curtain. In the studio apartment, suitcase and boxes lay open as Susan was sorting out their belongings. Yousef was asleep on the small double bed which he shared with his mother. The wardrobe was empty now and so were the kitchen cabinets. Sitting on the floor, Susan was folding Yousef's t-shirts when her mobile phone ringtone startled her. She hastily answered it in fear that the noise would disturb and disrupt Yousef's slumber.

Her eyebrows knotted together at seeing who was calling.

"Hello Daud?"

"Assalam u alaikum," Daud greeted in a rather pleasant tone.

She glanced at the clock, it was nearly midnight, "Walaikum salaam. Everything okay?"

He cleared his throat and went on, "Yeah! I wanted to ask you... how was your shopping with Mom?"

She smiled remembering the last couple of days spending with Chloe in a shopping spree. "It was good."

"Did you get everything you wanted?"

"Yeah."

"Is there anything else?" he prodded further.

"Thank you. You have been generous as it is." Her voice was laced with gratitude.

"You just have to say so Susan and I will make sure you get it. And your packing? Do you want me to send movers?"

Her eyes widened, Movers? They would cost so much! "No, no I have nearly got everything now."

"Great then. Is Yousef happy?"

Her eyes wandered to her sleeping son, "He is excited to be with his Daddy."

He chuckled and then he asked in his husky voice, "What about Yousef's mother?"

Her cheeks reddened, her heart skipping a beat. "Alhumdulilah (Praise be to Allah)."

"Well, Yousef's father is just as excited as him." he teased.

This time she chortled, "Just two days left inshaa Allah then."

"Inshaa Allah, I will see you on Friday. Sweet dreams."

She said her goodbyes and ended the call.

A small smile tugged at her lips and her eyes shone with happiness. He was flirting. She liked that.

She liked that a lot.

****

Thursday afternoon, Susan's mind was running on all the to-do list that was pending as she walked with Yousef back to their flat after school. She had taken Friday off as she wasn't thrilled to be in her tired mode on her wedding. All chores were nearly done. Her shopping was completed for the wedding day, the dress, accessories were all bought from different shops across the city. However, the jewellery was gifted by Chloe. It was heirloom gold jewellery given to Chloe by her mother in law Fatima. The delicate Pakistani design gold jewellery was breath taking. The vintage gold jewellery that was ornamented with diamonds and multiple other gems was unique, unlike anything Susan had seen. Chloe had firmly said that the jewellery was hers now as Chloe hardly wore it. She also had confided that Daud liked jewellery and she should wear it often once they were married.

Even now thinking about dressing up to please Daud, heated up her face. But that was part of her religion. Islam encouraged wives to beautify for their husbands. She would try her best. Although, there were doubts lingering on her mind. Knowing well, he preferred a desi woman over her.

Holding Yousef's hand, they climbed up the stairs to the studio flat up in the Georgian building. She inserted the key in the keyhole at the door and twisted the door knob.

"SURPRISE" shouted three women from the flat.

Susan gasped and stepped back in astonishment. She blinked several times to believe what she was seeing. Amal, Sana and Ramlah were dressed up in fancy clothes. The tiny flat was decorated with gold and silver balloons, buntings and paper frills.

Yousef shrieked in happiness as he ran to Ejaz who was playing with Lego blocks in the corner of the room.

"Wha--?" Susan wasn't able to utter any word.

Amal got hold of Susan's hands. She pulled her in the flat, "Do you think we would let you get married without even giving you any party? So..." she beamed, "We decided Susan should have her very own henna party!!"

Susan's eyes widened. She hadn't thought of anything about henna or any other adornment for the wedding.

Gently pushing her onto the sofa, Amal then went on, "So what we have decided that first we are going to give you a facial." She pinched Susan's cheek and Susan winced in response, "Tsk tsk...is this how you planned to get married?"

"Enough Amal you are wasting time, we need to be fast." Sana lightly reprimanded her younger sister, "We need to finish everything so that Susan has her beauty sleep before the wedding," she winked.

"So, it's waxing arms and legs, facial, and henna." Ramlah counted on her fingers and then she grinned, "Don't you worry Susan, we will make you into the perfect desi bride."

Susan's exhaled and her shoulders drooped, "I am not desi," she muttered. Her doubts resurfacing.

"Well after tomorrow's make up I have planned you won't even know. Besides, why do you want black eyes and hair and darker tone skin? You have no clue how crazy desi women are to have a fairer skin, light coloured eyes and hair." Amal pointed out.

"Tell me about it," Ramlah rolled her eyes.

"But maybe that's what Daud likes." Susan said in a hushed tone.

A playful grin spread on Amal's lips, "Uh-huh, not possible. I am sure he went crazy over these grey eyes and brunette locks the moment he set eyes on you."

Sana opened the lid of the pot, "Maybe you should eat first Susan...I made your favourite Butter chicken with pilau rice."

Susan wasn't able to decide what to do first.

Eventually, not only she enjoyed a scrumptious meal but also got pampered by her friends.

****

Standing tall in front of the mirror stood the graceful groom in his crisp white shirt and black sleek formal pants. Daud fingers glided down the grey pure silk tie. A colour that reminded him of Susan's eyes. He unfolded the starchy white collar of the shirt and effortlessly tied the knot of the tie. Next was his black waistcoat and black blazer.

It still hurt his arm when dressing up. Ibrahim was watching his son from the chair. He stood up, "I thought I will help you."

"Yeah." Daud handed him the waistcoat. For the first time in life, he was nervous. His last experience of the wedding day was haunting him. Every few minutes, his eyes would riveted back to the clock. It seemed the time was moving very slowly today.

Ibrahim quietly helped Daud wear the tuxedo and the waistcoat. He easily discerned the anxious nature of his son. "You are in a hurry." He smiled in understanding.

Hastily, Daud shook his head, "No nothing like that. It's just that... what happened last time."