Damian's POV

"I don't want to go to the hospital."

"Mum, come on, you have to," I pleaded with her, but she shook her head.

"I don't need the headache from doctors and nurses. I'm fine here at home," Mum asserted stubbornly.

I shot a pleading look to Aunt Kate and Dad, who looked equally as exhausted and stressed in the light of the morning. Dad let out a sigh. "Honey, you are experiencing pain, you need to get checked up again, just in case," he reasoned.

"If I get checked, they'll just keep me in the hospital for weeks, and I don't want to be in that horrid place. I've had enough," I had never heard Mum sound so fed up, but I guess that was what happened when you put on a mask of happiness over your suffering. Eventually that mask cracked, and you couldn't continue to pretend you were okay with everything anymore.

Aunt Kate took Mum's hand and said gently, "I promise I won't let them keep you there, we just want to see if there's any medications you can take that would help ease the pain better than the pills you have now."

Mum blinked at her sister, and her face softened. "Katie, it doesn't matter how much medicine I take, it's not going to make me any better."

"But it'll help," Aunt Kate emphasized. "We just want to help you."

"I know," Mum looked down at her lap, picking at a thread on her blanket. "I just don't want to go back there again."

Last night we had given Mum her pain medication, since she had forgotten to take it that evening before we left to the engagement. She had been so excited for me that she failed to remember her own health, which was why she had a sudden breakdown at the end. Now she refused to get any more treatment, even if it would benefit her. Maybe Mum had given me my stubbornness, because she was definitely acting like a stubborn child.

"How about this? We'll go for a quick check-up, and then request for home treatment. They cannot refuse the demands of a patient. And if they do, they'll have me to deal with," Dad suggested, and Mum gazed at him with a faint smile.

"Okay," she relented, and Dad kissed her cheek, and for once I didn't cringe. I was paying attention to my parents' relationship more these days, I guess because I could learn from them. They truly had something special, and that's what I wanted with Mariam. Something special.

Mum got the check up, and as we waited outside for the tests, I sent a quick text to Mariam, just to let her know, Mum's getting checked up at the hospital.

I smiled, marvelling at how much Mariam cared. It was almost as if my mum was her mum with the concern she showed. And the flash of my silver engagement ring reminded me that it was close to the truth.

I'll let you know In Sha Allah. Don't worry too much :)

"Texting your fiancée now, are we?" I glanced up to see Dad leaning over and peeking at my phone, and I hurriedly pocketed my phone, saying, "Maybe."

"You know, she really is something. I can see why you like her," Dad mused. "She reminds me a little of your mother, too."

"Really?" I noticed that Aunt Kate had disappeared, probably to get some food from the cafeteria. The things I missed when I was texting Mariam...

"Yes. They have the same strong will and kindness," Dad said. "They both want to see the good in people, something your mother never stopped doing with me, even when I thought there was nothing good left in me. It was partly why I fell in love with her, because she saw the best in me, and made me happy."

I had never heard Dad talk about how he fell in love with Mum, partly because I never wanted to, but now it was nice to know what brought them together, and in a way, I could relate. We fell in love with the people who brought the best in us, and Mariam brought out the best in me. And the worst, at times, but I had worked on that now.

"That's beautiful, Dad. Really touched me in here," I patted my chest, and Dad laughed.

"I know, I'm being a little soppy, but it's true. And you have no idea how painful it is to see the one you love go through so much pain," Dad's voice lowered to a whisper at the last words, and I saw him swallow, his brows creased with worry. I suddenly noticed all the wrinkles he had accumulated over the years from making business deals and staying out all night doing God knows what. He was forty nine, and getting old. But then again, we all were, in different ways, and pain made us age the most.

"I do, Dad. I love her too," I said softly, and Dad whipped his gaze to me, as if forgetting who I was for a second, and I could see the sadness in his eyes.

"I know, son, I know."

The chairs in waiting rooms made it nearly impossible to hug someone close to you, but somehow Dad and I made it work. I didn't hug my Dad that often, since we were men and men didn't do 'hugs.' But I wished we did it more often, because after being this close to my Dad, I never wanted to let go.

"Isn't this nice? Father and son getting along," Aunt Kate had returned and she was grinning at the both of us as we pulled apart, balancing three Styrofoam cups in her hand.

"Yeah, well, you caught us in one of our rare moments," I joked as Aunt Kate handed the cups out to each of us. I took a sip and immediately flinched, burning my tongue.

"Ouch, that's hot," I scowled as my aunt and Dad laughed at me.

"That's the point of hot chocolate, Damian," Aunt Kate winked.

"You could've at least warned me," I grumbled, feeling like a kid again as the adults continued to laugh. One glance at my ring reminded me that I was no kid. I was a fiancé.

Once the tests were done, a nurse came out and told us we could come in again to wait with Mum until the doctor returned. Seeing her again made my heart clench every time, but I just fixed a smile on my face and sat by the bed, gripping her hand.

"Your hands are warm," Mum commented, her hands icy against mine. But it wasn't long before I transferred my warmth to her. If only I could transfer my health to her, and make her better again. Wouldn't that be nice?

"We're going to give you some stronger pain medication, but this might give you some more side effects, such as drowsiness," the doctor informed us.

"That's no good, I don't want to be drowsy at my son's wedding," Mum said light-heartedly, and the doctor raised his eyebrows, glancing at me.

"You're getting married soon?" he questioned incredulously, and I smiled, flashing my ring.

"Yep."

"You seem a little young to get married," the doctor commented.

"Excuse me, but weren't you telling us something important?" Aunt Kate butted in, and I chuckled at her sass. The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing.

"I think it's best you start preparing from now on, and take it easy. This medication might help with the overall pain, but your body will be getting weaker, and you may find yourself sleeping more. Going to a wedding, as such, might be a little too overwhelming for you in a couple weeks."

"No matter how hard it gets, I want to be wide awake," Mum proclaimed, squeezing my hand. "I don't want none of this drowsy business. I'm tired of sleeping."

The doctor chuckled along with the rest of us at her pun. "You may find that sleeping is all you'll be capable of doing, and for now, it's the best thing for your body. Sleep is important."

"Not when you spend 75% of the day doing it," Mum grumbled.

I saw a flicker of sympathy on the doctor's face and I was reminded that he was human too, though seeing all these doctors dealing with dying patients each day made me wonder how they could still go through another day without breaking down. But doctors still had feelings too. At least I hoped they did.

"My advice to you, Mrs Brewer, is that you do what you can, and plan it so that you have time to eat and spend time with family while also balancing your sleep time. You are at a very difficult stage in your...cancer, and it's better not to force anything, not if you can't handle it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Doctor, you do," Mum nodded before stifling a yawn.

"Fighting the exhaustion already?" The doctor smiled, and Mum just closed her eyes and said, "I'll fight it till the end."

"Don't fight too hard, it may do you more harm than good," the doctor advised as he stood up with his clipboard in hand. "You are free to go home now. Take care."

"We will," I replied.

"Oh, yeah, and congratulations on the engagement," the doctor shot a smile at me.

"Thanks." I couldn't stop grinning after that, and I pulled out my phone so I could tell Mariam, She'll be alright.

Alhamdulillah ☺

Mariam's POV

"Show me the ring, girl."

I held out my hand, unable to control the grin that took over my face, and Priti and Amy inspected it with awe. "Is that real diamond? Wow, that must've costed a lot," Amy remarked.

"He must be loaded," Priti added.

"I wouldn't say he's loaded, but yeah." I was never much of a ring kind of gal, but I was already used to it on my finger, since it fit so perfectly. Also, it was very pretty, and I found myself staring at it in class occasionally. Of course, since it was so bedazzling, some of my other friends also noticed it, including Clive. But he wasn't the only other guy to notice.

"I heard you're getting married," Zaid fell into step with me while on my way to the carpark, and I nodded, focusing on finding my beautiful blue car which I had grown so fondly of. Was it weird that I got excited to drive it? Probably not.

"Yes, that's correct," I replied curtly, unlocking my car. Zaid had parked several cars down, but he lingered for a while longer, hands in his pockets and expression neutral.

"Who's the lucky guy?" the way he asked it was an attempt to keep it light-hearted, but I could tell he genuinely wanted to know. Maybe if I told him he would stop bothering me and leave me alone, so I replied, "You may have heard of him."

"Oh, really?" Zaid arched an eyebrow to my response. I could tell he was aching with curiosity, so I put him out of his temporary misery and said, "Yeah, he goes by the name Damian. I'm sure you've met before."

I could tell Zaid was surprised, and he wasn't enjoying my nonchalant and slightly sarcastic attitude towards it all, but that was the point. "Damian? As in the guy you converted to Islam?"

"Yep, that's him," I said while opening my door, eager to hop into the comfy driver's seat.

"Is that why you did it?"

I whipped my head to face him with a frown. "Excuse me?"

"Is that why you agreed to convert him, so you could marry him?" Zaid asked bitterly.

"That's not how it is," I stated firmly, disgusted. "Now can you please leave?"

"Whatever, Mariam. Have a good marriage," with those last words he walked away, and I slipped into my car, shutting the door with a sigh.

I knew how it looked, me marrying the boy I introduced Islam to. But I didn't realise people actually thought that way. Was it really a surprise that we ended up together? I could've married anyone else, and Damian could've married anyone he wanted, but he chose me, and I accepted him. That was how it worked, wasn't it? If he hadn't converted, everything would've been completely different. He might've ended up with Sam, or anyone, for that matter. But this was how Allah had planned it, so this was how it was going to be. And who was I to argue with Allah's plans? He was, after all, the Best of planners.

Speaking of planning, my parents were currently planning our Nikkah, which of course would have to be held in the mosque so we can perform prayer afterwards and have a sermon present as well. I came home from uni to find my parents in deep discussion of this subject, and I decided I should join them, since it did involve me, after all.

"We should keep it small and simple," Baba was saying to Immi. "All they need is the contract and Du'aa at the end of the ceremony. We don't need too many people present."

"How about the wedding dress?" Immi brought up, and that's when she saw me enter the room. "Assalamu Alaykum, habibti. How was your day?"

"Alhamdulillah," I beamed, sitting myself in the armchair, the same armchair I had sat when Damian had come to propose. Ah, the memories.

"I'm sure everyone commented on the ring," Baba said with a knowing smile, and I nodded, examining it myself.

"Yes, they did. It's a truly stunning ring. I still can't believe it's mine," I responded.

"Well, it's yours to keep, and you deserve to wear such beauty on your hand," Baba told me with an affectionate smile.

"Anyway, what about the dress?" Immi continued, and Baba sighed.

"We will get the dress, Insha'Allah. What matters most is organising the ceremony first," Baba stated.

"I think the dress matters just as much, Baba," I inputted. "Besides, it's the most important part of it all, right?"

"Yes, I know," Baba sounded worn out, and I realised for the first time that all this planning was tiring both my parents out. They really wanted what was best for me, and they were pouring every inch of their hearts into this. "I just wish we had more time..."

"Honestly, I don't need a fancy big ceremony," I decided. "If all we can do is sign the contract, I'm fine with that."

"Mariam, we want this to be special for you, we shouldn't minimise it just because it's too much work," Immi said. "And we are doing it mostly for Kareema too. We want her to be there, In Sha Allah."

"Exactly, which is why the sooner the better is all I'm saying," It dawned on me that perhaps this was why Damian proposed so early, so that his mother could experience his wedding and be there. That was probably the sweetest thing ever, and it only increased my love for Damian even more. Wait, love?

"We are trying our best," Baba said gently. "Maybe we should call Kareema and ask her what she thinks?"

"Yes, we should," Immi agreed, grabbing the phone.

"Wait!" I reached out a hand to stop her, and Immi linked at me in surprise. "She might be sleeping," I added sheepishly.

"That's okay, I'll just talk to Damian's father," Immi said, already dialling.

"But what if he isn't home?" I asked.

"Then we'll talk to Kareema's sister. Mariam, relax, we got this," Immi assured me while pressing the handset to her ear. I leaned back in my chair, releasing a breath. I really needed a holiday.

Wait, did I get a honeymoon too?

"Let's just focus on the Nikkah first, Mariam," Baba told me once I asked him.

"Yeah, good point, Baba."

***

"So when is the Nikkah?"

"I think my parents said it would be not this week, but the week after," I replied to Yasmine on the phone that night.

"Ugh, that's way too far away! I wish it was tomorrow," Yasmine moaned.

"Patience, child," I said with a laugh.

"But then again, that gives us time to find a dress to wear!" Yasmine exclaimed excitedly. "I literally have nothing to wear for the wedding. I have to buy like a whole new outfit."

"You don't need to do that," I insisted, though I knew everyone invited would do the same. Speaking of invites, we still had to make a list of who would come. There was so much to think about in so little time, but In Sha Allah it would all fall into place.

"Well, I want to, Mariam. And we should go shopping together! Especially to buy your dress," Yasmine suggested gleefully. "Oh my Allah, I am getting so excited!"

"Okay, calm down, it's just a Nikkah," of course, my words did nothing to tame my best friend's excitement, and eventually, her excitement infected me too.

"I can't believe this is all happening, Yaz. Like, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine Damian as my...you know."

"Oh, trust me, I know," Yasmine said slyly. "And to be honest, me neither. Do you remember how annoying he was, in year seven and eight?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," I groaned, pressing a palm to my forehead. "And it wasn't just those two years, but all of high school. Honestly, I'm just glad he grew out of that phase."

"I feel like he'd still be the same old conceited jerk he was if he hadn't met you, though," Yasmine mused. "You changed him."

"Yeah. I did," I said softly. "But what if...what if his mum never got sick? If she was still healthy today...I don't know. I feel like things would be different."

"Way different," Yasmine agreed. "There'd be no bet. There'd be no communication."

"I feel like he still would've annoyed me, one way or another," I butted in.

"True," Yasmine said. "But you never would have become friends. Or fallen in –"

"Okay, that's enough," I interrupted. "I know the story."

"Yes, and it's a very nice story," Yasmine smiled. I didn't have to see her to know she was smiling. "But you know what I think, Mariam?"

"What?"

"I think Damian also changed you, in a way."

Well, this was news to me. "He did?"

"Yeah, he did. You used to be judgemental of the world, and a little untrusting of other people, but I can see now that you're finally opening up and seeing things in a new perspective." Yasmine's words brought to light something I had never considered before. All this time, I had believed I had influenced Damian and only I had caused the changes, but maybe it had worked both ways. Maybe Damian had also affected me too.

"Wow, Yaz, I never looked at it that way," I said. "Do you really think I've changed too?"

"Absolutely. I think Damian softened your hard edges a bit," Yasmine chuckled. "Love does that to people."

"Love?" I echoed.

"Yes, Mariam. Love," Yasmine deadpanned.

I laughed. "I wouldn't call it that just yet."

"Let me know when you do," Yasmine teased. "But don't try to deny your feelings like you did before. I mean, what would you have done if Damian never proposed to you?"

"I don't know, I never thought of that possibility," I joked.

"Oh, Mariam, always so modest," I could imagine Yasmine rolling her eyes at this point. "But seriously. What if Damian proposed to another girl? How would you have felt?"

"I don't know," I murmured, trying to imagine this horrific prospect. "I'd probably feel a little sad at first, but then I'd keep supporting him, because I'd want him to be happy."

"Interesting," Yasmine sounded like she was deep in thought, the kind of deep in thought that involved stroking the chin. "That just proves my point, then. You love him. Enough to still be there even if he chose someone else, because you want him to be happy. Now that's real love."

"Yasmine, all your psychological talk is kind of freaking me out," I said, pretending to sound scared. "When did you get so wise?"

"Let's just say I have an awesome best friend who always knows how to give good advice, and now I'm returning the favour," Yasmine replied. "Plus, you're easier to read than you think, Mims."