He craved the sweetness of her touch, crazed in a frenzy for a woman too pure for his bitter life.
* * * *
Tasneem was a natural artist. She could create masterpieces with anything whether it be makeup, paints, or cooking. Her tuition bills are beco...
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Tasneem Uddin
I sat in front of the vanity table, drawing a winged line on my eyelids. My fingers uncapped the mascara bottle, coating my lashes with the black coloring. I pouted my lips as I added the red tint to them, further accentuating my natural features. I pulled away from the mirror and examined myself. Not bad, I thought.
The pink dress fell down my hips and legs in an elegant way. The sleeves touched to my wrists, small white gems swirling around my arms. The neckline on the dress was deep, but my light pink hijab covered it, making sure no cleavage or skin was on display. I picked up the long veil and placed it on the crown of my head, using a diamond headpiece to keep it in place. Standing up, I moved further away from the mirror.
Perfect.
Today was our Walima. Usually, most Muslim couples had their Walima right after the Nikkah, but Ibrahim was quite busy. He had just finished the final remodeling structure for his hotels and landed a business contract with an Arab business in Dubai. He wasn't home most days and I would only see him at night when he picked me up from my parent's café. By the time we would come home, Ibrahim would be too tired to do anything else.
I felt saddened by his absence. After our heartfelt moment that night, our relationship was slightly different. We still slept separately because Ibrahim still needed to get used to the idea of a wife. I promised that I would wait for him even if it took years, I would still be patient. Time was something Ibrahim was never given enough of.
Knock Knock.
"Come in!" I yelled.
Mom and Ibrahim's grandmother walked in, followed by Kanza and Amira. Mom walked over to my side, adjusting the gold bracelet Ibrahim bought me onto my wrists. Her slender fingers brushed against my henna stained hands. Ibrahim's grandmother added another set of bracelets onto my other wrist, which were connected to a ring on my finger.
"There, you look even more beautiful than you did on your wedding day," smiled his grandmother.
"Thank you," I said as I averted my gaze away from her.
Amira nudged my shoulder with hers. "Don't be so shy," she laughed.
"Easy for you to say," I mumbled. "If I remember correctly, you were pretty nervous on your wedding day," I gave her a sly grin.
Amira scoffed, "I had good reason to be bashful."
Kanza rolled her eyes. "You married girls are such a pain," she grumbled.
Amira gave her a knowing glance. "So there isn't anyone you would potentially marry then?" she asked.
"Boys are disgusting. I don't even know how you two managed to snatch two guys for your own," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
