Hassan's pov:
She immersed herself in one of the many books she had brought along when she moved in. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she delved into the pages. Clad in one of my shirts – she claimed it was more comfortable – paired with black sweatpants.
Her soft hair, put up in a messy bun, constantly battled escaping strands. Beauty spots adorned her face like constellations, and her heart-shaped lips moved silently as she read to herself. She was a living portrait, a sight to behold.
I was engrossed in checking emails when Halimah entered, looking stunning with her book, distracting me even more.
There are moments when I genuinely can't believe that the girl I've yearned for all these years is finally with me. The day my dad told me she agreed to marry me felt like a dream, especially after she left the room abruptly after hearing the news. That night when I got home after the failed meeting, I stayed in sujood, begging Allah to make her mine. He answered my dua.
Halimah Musa. My wife.
Our eyes met across the desk in my home office. Unfortunately, I was going back to work on Monday, and the prospect of hours away from Halimah, given my demanding job, filled me with dread. I was thinking of extending my leave, but Halimah talked me out of it . I opened up another branch here and would be going back and forth to London to make sure things were also running smoothly here.
Her phone vibrated, startling her before she silenced it then left the room abruptly, leaving me curious. Abia, our playful cat, darted around the room, chasing a yarn ball Halimah had made. I got up to follow when she re-entered, holding my pill bottle and a glass of water. Placing them on the desk, she grinned, "Time for your medication."
I melted as I looked up at her. This is why I fall in love with her every day. Halimah treats me the same even after finding out about my condition, creating a comfortable space for my depression. She never made me feel ashamed. She was my safe space.
She opened the pill bottle, offering me my dosage, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her down. She shrieked in surprise, looking down at me sheepishly.
Whispering bismillah, I put the pills in my mouth as she placed the rim of the cup to my mouth, then poured the water into my mouth. A shy smile adorned her face.
"Thank you, habibti," I said appreciatively, giving her a peck on the cheek.
"You're welcome, Hassan," she grinned in return.
"You're so beautiful," I whispered, still in disbelief that she was married to me.
"Stop," she groaned, covering my eyes with her hands.
Amused, I waited for her to lower her hands, revealing a light shade of pink on her face.
"You mean so much to me. Thank you for accepting me as I am," I told her sincerely.
"You're perfect to me. I wouldn't have it any other way," she replied, giving me a hug. I shifted my chair closer to the desk to reach the laptop.
"When should we start getting ready?" I asked, exiting my email and shutting down my laptop. I've had enough of work. It's strange because I used to drown myself in work to escape reality, but now I just wanted to stay in the present, excited about the future.
She looked up at the clock hanging over the door that indicated it would be Zhuhr prayer soon.
"Right after zhuhr," she replied, getting up, making me miss her warmth. I shouldn't have said anything; I already wanted her back in my arms.
YOU ARE READING
HALF HER DEEN
Romance"Noor Ayn," Hassan began, his gaze intense as he looked at me with a soft expression, "Have you ever wondered why I called you that? It's not a mere term of endearment-it's a reflection of the impact you've had on my life. You coming into my life wa...
