The morning sun peeked through my windows. I put an arm over my eyes, trying to block it. Tasneem and I had woken up a couple hours earlier to pray and then we fell back asleep. I sighed as I thought of my wife. She really was special and different compared to most. Last night, even though I bawled like a child, she didn't say anything. She didn't lie and tell me she understood what I went through. She didn't pretend to care.

She actually proved that she did. She held me as I tried to get rid of those agonizing thoughts. I gave her a separate room because I didn't want Tasneem to witness me in my darkest hours. I had to conceal that part of me from her.

How many girls in the world actually want to deal with so much emotional baggage from their husband? Probably not too many, yet she ran to my room as soon as she heard my silent cries.

God, I felt so fucking weak in front of her last night.

I knew I wasn't weak given the past I had endured, but that didn't stop me from thinking. I still remembered how good her arms felt around me and how tightly she held me as if I might disappear if she didn't.

Her voice was soft and soothing, luring me away from my demons. She was an angel, a perfectly innocent girl. I reached my arm out to pull Tasneem closer to me, but instead touched her pillow.

My eyes jolted open, searching frantically for my wife. I sprinted out of the room, running down the steps as I felt my heart race. Did someone take her? Did that man actually find me? Questions were riling within me and I had no answers to them. I searched through all the rooms that I passed. Still, there was no sign of Tasneem. Fuck, why did I have to buy such a big house? I'm such an idiot, I thought.

"Bashir!" I yelled out. Surely, he would know where she went.

"Over here!" he shouted back. His voice came from the kitchen.

I walked towards the kitchen, hearing laughter and muffled voices. As I walked in, I saw Bashir sitting on a stool, resting his arms on the marble counter. A bright smile was on his face as he laughed at whatever it was Tasneem was saying. Relief flooded me as I saw her wearing her typical white hijab. It was wrapped loosely around her head, her back was towards me. She mixed some batter and poured a perfect circle onto the pan.

"And then I sprayed the hose at Amira, who was not quite happy from getting her brand new hijab soaked," grinned Tasneem as she turned to face Bashir.

Immediately, her light brown eyes locked on to mine. Her eyes widened at the sight of me. I looked down and realized that I was shirtless and only in sweatpants. The room had gotten too hot so after Fajr (morning prayer) I took my shirt off. Tasneem was too tired to even notice, however, now her eyes were trailing down my body. I noticed the top she was wearing really outlined her curves. I remembered how good her soft body felt against me.

She bit her lip as her eyes reached back up to meet mine. I really wanted to kiss her. There was a string that was pulling me straight to her. The urge to kiss the hell out of Tasneem was driving me insane. Through all our stolen moments, I didn't even get to taste those delectable lips.

Knock Knock.

"Bashir, answer the door," I told him, not moving my eyes from my wife.

Bashir groaned, jumping down from his stool. "I always have to answer the door," he mumbled.

I ruffled his black hair. "Sorry, kiddo," I smiled down at him.

He pushed my hand away, pretending to bite it.

"Didn't I tell you to stop biting me when you were four?" I asked him with raised eyebrows.

He shrugged, "Possibly."

"So why do you keep doing it?"

"I like to take risks," he grinned before running off.

I sighed, "Kids these days."

Tasneem turned back to making pancakes. She kept stealing glances at me, but looked away whenever she noticed that I caught her. I wanted to hold her, but decided against it. She's too good for me, I thought. I don't want her to feel attached.

"Want some pancakes?" her sweet voice asked.

I walked closer to her, examining the stack of pancakes she already flipped. She went over to the fridge and got the syrup and whipped cream out. She placed the bottles on the counter and turned back to the pan, pouring more batter in.

I nodded my head as I leaned against the counter. "You like cooking don't you?" I asked.

She slightly smiled, "Yeah I do."

I couldn't resist myself. It took every fiber in my being to keep my hands to myself. Her curvy figure was begging me to pull her closer to me. I missed her touch. Perhaps, I was becoming addicted to my new wife. I shook my head. I really shouldn't be thinking like this especially right now.

A light hand touched my shoulder. Tasneem looked at me with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Sorry, just thinking about last night."

She gave me a sad smile, "We could always talk about it."

I shook my head. "You don't want to know, trust me."

"Ibrahim," she sighed. "I can't help you if I don't know what happened."

"That's the point."

She frowned, "You're not very nice."

"Never said I was."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to her pancake batter on the pan. She flipped it over. I went to stand behind her, mesmerized by how concentrated she was on the food. I placed my hands on her hips, gripping them tightly as I pulled her back against me. She gasped in surprise, but leaned against me nonetheless.

"Is this what they call the honeymoon phase?" she whispered as she closed her eyes.

I nuzzled my face in her neck, placing a tender kiss on her shoulder. "Perhaps."

"Your short answers are quite annoying."

I chuckled against her tanned skin, "I know, sweetheart."

She pulled back to look at me, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion. "So why keep doing it?"

"It's just who I am," I shrugged.

She leaned up to place a kiss on my cheek, her lips forming her bright smile. I was in awe. She was so beautiful. Her light brown eyes twinkled with amusement, her thick eyelashes framing them. Her cheeks were lightly tinted with a shade of pink. Was she blushing?

"Don't let the pancakes burn!" a deep voice exclaimed as footsteps rumbled against the floor.

Thomas, I thought.

Tasneem jolted back from me and placed the pancake on the stack. It had dark brown ridges around the sides and instead of a golden brown; the pancake was a dark brown. She pursued her lips in disappointment.

"No! My beautiful pancake! What have they done to you?" Bashir playfully cried as he fell to his knees.

"They killed it, Bashir! Their romance is killing our food," sniffled Thomas as he fell besides Bashir.

"Oh the pain, the agony, the suffering! It's too much," Bashir continued, hugging Thomas.

Tasneem laughed at their childish behavior and I soon found myself laughing with her.

"I think my heart just broke," said Thomas, wiping a fake tear from his eyes.

I rolled my eyes, kicking his thigh from his kneeling position. "Could you be any more dramatic?"

Thomas grinned as he stood up, offering Bashir a hand as well. He patted the dust off his pants and fixed his tie. "I think I could be an actor, what do you think Bashir?" he turned to my little brother.

"Definitely. Get all those ladies to fall in love with your acting skills," winked Bashir.

Thomas scoffed, "Please, they'll fall in love with my handsome good looks."

"Your mom complimenting you doesn't count," I smirked.

Thomas' jaw dropped.

Bashir coughed, "Get roasted."

"Ibrahim," Tasneem reprimanded. "Don't be so rude to our guest."

"He's not a guest. He's a nuisance," I replied dryly.

Thomas sighed, "My boss treats me like I'm a pest."

"You are one."

"Tasneem, your husband is hurting my feelings," he pouted as he added a couple of sniffles in for a reaction.

Tasneem shook her head, amused. She set some plates on the dining table. "You joining us for breakfast, Thomas?" she asked him.

He eagerly took a seat next to Bashir, "Absolutely! Did you even have to ask?"

"Just checking." Tasneem turned to me, "You should probably go wash up."

"And put on a damn shirt, man!" added Thomas as he stuffed his face with pancakes.

I ignored his comment. I noticed Tasneem went back to making more pancakes as the boys ate majority of the ones she already made.

"Pigs," I muttered as I started making my way up to my room to grab a shirt.

* * * *

Thomas and I talked about our business deal with a recent investor. He was going through the pros and cons of the business deal that I was considering. I intensely listened to the calculations he made as I took another pancake.

Bashir finished eating a while ago. He went to the living room to practice his Qur'an recitation.

Tasneem sat beside me, but I noticed her solemn expression. She leaned her cheek against the palm of her hand. Her white hijab was securely wrapped around her head, making sure no hair was sticking out. With her right hand, she picked at her food. A frown was deeply etched onto her perfect lips.

Thomas continued talking, but my attention moved to my wife. I wondered if everything was okay. There was something about her that urged this protective aura from me.

She absentmindedly played with her fork, stabbing the pancakes a couple of times. I was sure listening to Thomas and I talk business wasn't entertaining. I placed my hand on her thigh, squeezing it.

She jumped a little in surprised, but then she dropped her hand down, interlacing our fingers together. I gave her a sideways glance, which she returned with a reassuring smile. I used my thumb to circle patterns on her palm. She seemed to relax under my touch and I continued talking to Thomas, who was completely oblivious to our moment.

This girl will be the death of me, I thought as I watched her take her bottom lip into her mouth. Then again, that wasn't a bad thing.