Chapter 4

«No matter where or what you do, what is already written for you will always come true». «Marriage is a sacred bond from Allah, no one can tear it apart except for Him». «No one knows tomorrow except He who is Alimi gaybi Wash Shahada (The knower of the hidden and opened)». **** I was finally getting married to a stranger; a stranger I knew nothing about, a stranger I never saw before, a stranger who I only knew his name. "Ya Allah, make it easy for me". I whispered silently. If someone told me or informed me that I would get married at the age of eighteen, I would have exploded like a time bomb. But here I was, well dressed like a true princess, when actually I was a pauper who only knew how to disturb and create troubles. "Sofia, get ready the car will be moving in 10 minutes," I heard papa's stern voice calling me out. "I'm coming," I replied dejectedly while checking the mirror again, before descending down. Reaching the car, I turned around and looked at everybody and tears filled my heart. Was I really getting married? This was really not a joke or prank? The man I was to marry, I didn't know anything about him. I had thought it was an expensive joke or prank but it wasn't. I started crying. Was I really getting married? Maryam came beside me and patted me, reassuring me that everything would be good and cracked some jokes to lighten up the atmosphere. I smiled and entered the car and I felt nausea by thinking I would not be coming back here as a girl but as a married lady. I was going to miss them all. Mama's food. Papa's scolding. Brother's pranks. And lastly Maryam craziness. I would miss them all. ** We entered different cars after the sermons and vows had finished. I couldn't believe I got married within thirty minutes. It was a small wedding, papa said he wanted it to be a small wedding because of some unknown reasons to me. Well, he was the only one who understood his reasons. I cried and cried harder; hugged papa, mama, brother and my friends. The car stopped at the front of a gigantic gate and my mouth flew open in surprise. Maa sha Allah! I didn't know that he was very rich. May Allah continue to shower His blessings on him. Aameen ya rabbul Aalameen. I'd never really seen a big house before apart from movies, but this was a mansion- I mean an actual mansion. I entered the house, tip toeing on the floor like it was breakable. The house was silent, if a pin was to be dropped, it would have resonated around the house. I sat down on the couch, waiting for my husband. The husband I didn't know and I'd not seen before. I was damned! I heard the front door open and his voice came, "Assalamualaikum, wifey," a velvety smooth, deep voice resonates around the silent building. Subhanallah! The voice. I couldn't even reply; the voice had cast a spell on me to be rooted at where I stood. The voice could lure me to sleep without thinking of tomorrow. This man in front was a typical definition of beauty; this man was extremely handsome, not handsome! He was beautiful. He was 6'ft tall compared to my 5'4ft; I shrunk a little feeling intimidated. His suit fitting shows his prominent broad chest.  I raised my head to study his face, I was shocked; I gasped. He had a sharp jaw with a black full beard. His brown chocolate eyes twinkled with amusement as if he knew what I was thinking. His pink lips- kissable lips twitched revealing his dimples. His long eyelashes testify to his beauty. Lower your gaze!. My brain commanded my eyes but the treacherous eyes of mine, sarcastically replied to me, "he is my husband and I can check him out". I thought I'd fainted!. The man in front of me wasn't handsome but he was beautiful. I couldn't believe it. I was married to beauty while I was plain Jane. I was still gawking at the man in front of me. I didn't know when he moved closer and tapped my nose. As his hand touched me, I felt shivered in delight because the warmth the little touches passed to me was unspeakable. "Um, ahem... I'm sorry! I spaced out. Argh, I'm Sofia Ali," I introduced myself. I groaned out, introducing to my handsome, sexy husband, was that a good impression? He laughed out loud. Wow! His laugh did something to me. It made millions of butterflies swim in my stomach. "No need for any introductions, Mrs Umar. I know almost everything about you." Mrs Umar!. Mrs Umar! . I stared at him dumbfounded. "You are Sofia Ali, best friend Maryam, no favourite food because all food is your favourite, colour blue, k-drama fan, obsessed with ice cream, hobby-sleeping, eating and watching films," he replied with lips twitching to smile. He knew everything-I mean everything about me." Should I continue wifey?" he asked teasingly. I was dead. "Welcome home wifey," he said, moving closer as he touched me. I snapped. "Don't touch me," I moved away from him. "Why, wifey?" he asked, confused by my reaction. "You," I pointed my index finger at him. "I hate you (lies my eyes rhetorically replied), I can't live with you, plan wrecker. You destroyed my plan. I will make you regret the day you saw me, the day you thought of marrying me. I will make you regret marrying me. I'm going to frustrate you into divorcing me," I said with promise lingering around the words and walked out. I'd been obsessed with his beauty to forget that he was the reason my plan was destroyed; he was the reason papa slapped me for the first time, the reason why papa wanted to disown me. I would make him regret marrying me.