Resisting A Cocky Billionaire

Chapter 8

A big thanks to all my readers!
Chapter 8- "I do. I do."

Aisha's POV
I play with the golden ring on my finger, admiring the way it makes me look mature. A month ago, I debated if he truly is the one and now, damn am I sure. It sends shivers down my spine as I think of becoming Mrs Malik in three days time.

But of course I'm not talking about Omar, definitely not him. Yousuf proposed to me a week ago and we didn't want to waste time. I walk into his office to submit my rough sketches for the fashion week magazine and he smiles sweetly at me. I have come to love him more because of his heart and because he's a good Muslim.
"Assalam alaykum." I say as I step in and he wishes me back.
"When do you get to design your hands with henna so I can drop you there?"
"Tomorrow and you don't need to disturb yourself, I'm going with Yasmin."
He pouts his lips and whines, "But I wanna take my princess there."
"Better luck next time Prince Charming." I walk out and pick my bag before heading home.

After asr, I scroll through Instagram page and re-read our last chat. Gosh! It's being a month last I saw him or heard from him and it feels damn good. No more Mr arrogant and his crazy bossy behaviours.

My phones rings and I answer, pressing it against my ear. "Assalam alaykum Ummah." I wish my soon to be mother-in-law.
"Wa alaykum assalam dear. How are you doing?"
"Alhamdulilah. You?" I ask.
"Alhamdulilah also. We will come tomorrow so we can get everything prepared. I've talked to Yousuf and no more work for you, you need to rest and be ready for the big day. Bye dear and take care." She disconnects the call, I smile at the thought of how lucky I'm to get a good mother-in-law. When we met, I thought that she was gonna despise me at once for being from a middle class, but she was welcoming. His father is just like mine, doesn't talk much and most times, serious. I take my phone, a little bag with water and sandwich. I put on my headphone before grabbing my keys and closing it. I walk to the nearby Gym and get on the treadmill, setting the treadmill low, I put on my headphone and jog slowly. I close my eyes and notice a change in the speed, I start going a bit faster and it increases again. Soon I start sweating and running. Weird as it is, I open my eyes and he looks at me with his headphone round his neck.
"Said hi a million times but you didn't hear me that's why I did this. Anyways, you need to reduce that fat body of yours." He says casually. Hurt by his words, I reduce the speed of the treadmill and increase the volume of the song. The speed increases again and I reduce it without looking at him. He takes off my headphone, places it over his ears before he removes it and shoves it in the nearest bin. I shoot a glare at him. "Why the heck did you do that? What the hell is wrong with you?" I quarrel about his stupid act and peep into the bin. I find a disgusting spoit banana next to it and give up on the idea of being a hero.

Bananas are evil and this rotten banana makes the whole situation worse, it's like karma isn't on my side.

Omar hands me his headphone and says, "Yours is old and the sound is a bit cracky, take mine."
I smile sweetly at him, collect it and break it before throwing it into the bin. If mine gets ruined, so does his.
He frowns at my little act and snaps, "I do something good for you and this is how you thank me. All you middle class women, always being ungrateful!"

Woah! He did not say that. "If this is your idea of being generous, then take it and shove it in your fat ass! Acting all rich, just because I'm not the daughter of a billionaire doesn't make me stupid! And if you're rich, why don't you just by this place or get a gym in your house?"

I leave for the exercise bike and as I glance over to see if he's there, I see no one and I sigh.

Good riddance!
                            • • • • •
"You look so beautiful in this." My mum sniffles and hugs mother-in-law. Tears cascade down their cheeks and Yasmin says sarcastically, "Please stop crying, I will have to pretend and cry too." Mum smacks her with the back of her hand and I laugh.
I gaze down at my lacy white wedding dress and can't help but agree with her.
"Is this the dress?" Mum asks and I nod to confirm it.
Next stop is spa, wasn't my idea! Don't look at me.
Let's just say that my soon to be mother-in-law is obsess with me looking perfect. We get in the car and head for my apartment, I'm ban from visiting my mum's house and Yousuf is ban from visiting home and also calling me. Both parents say it's bad luck to see the bride before the marriage is tied.
After spa, both mums sleep at my house.
I hide in the kitchen to answer Yousuf's call. "Hey baby, ready for the big day?" He says and I imagine him moving his hands in the air. He talks a lot with his hands.
"You bet I'm. You?"
"I know it sounds girly but I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I'm very nervous." I hear him swallow hard and I admit the same. "Can't wait to have you next to me, bye and love you."
"Hugs and kisses." I say and cut the call. I lay on my back and stare out of space. Sleep consumes me and so does the days.

Finally my wedding day comes but a little faster than I expect.

                         •••••
I look at my shaking hand that is interwine with Abubakar's, he gives it a little squeeze and says, "Relax, this is only the beginning." He says in an attempt to make me feel better.

Way to go bro, thanks a million for making feel better. I mentally roll my eyes.

I look at my dress to make sure it has no stain, touching my white headscarf to make sure it's perfectly rolled. He notices my unease and smiles, "You look perfect, don't worry, all will be good."
"In sha Allah." I murmur and nervously smile back at him. The car comes to a halt and as the door opens, the realisation that I'm gonna be a married woman suddenly hits me. I jolt back in anxiety and clutch Abubakar's arm tighter.
"Come on sis, you helped me when I wanted to run away on my wedding day, now I think it's my turn. If you chicken out, you do realise that it will be a disgrace to you and all of us." I nod and muster up some courage to walk in the large mansion. I swallow a non-existent saliva and try not to trip.

The door opens and I walk slowly, looking at the beautifully decorated mansion, all the guests look at me but I do not see Yousuf. I sit with the Imam as we wait for him. People start talking when thirty minutes pass without the groom present. Abubakar whispers the worst words I have ever heard. I try to control the tears that threaten to spill as my groom walks in. He sits facing me with a net material seperating us.
The Sheikh starts talking about Islam and marriage but my mind isn't on him. My mind is far away in the depth of my heart. Is this a test from God? An answer I can't answer. After reading a surah from the Holy Qur'an. Uncle Haroon comes forward and sits next to the Sheikh repeating the words of the Sheikh, "I give you my neice who is in my gaudianship in this marriage in accordance with the Islamic Shari'ah in the presence of the witnesses here and Allah is the best Witness."
I watch him through the material as his deep voice says, "I accept marrying your daughter who is in your guardship giving her name to myself in accordance to the Islamic Shari'ah in the presence of these witnesses and Allah is the best witness."
The Sheikh clears his throat, bringing me back to reality.
"Do you?" He asks. A tear escapes my eyes and I say "I do." I can see the guests smiling and my family. But the look in their eyes isn't that of happiness but pity and sadness.

I look through the net and say it two more times "I do, I do."

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