Laiba Hayat Hussain stared at herself in the mirror, dressed in a floor-length golden chiffon gown and a full-sleeved red embroidered overcoat that swept the floor when she walked. Her doe eyes were made to look more prominent with the application of thick dark kohl. Her full lips were coated with bold maroon lipstick and her hair was tied in a bun, a golden hijab wrapped loosely around her head.
Perhaps the entire look was too glam for her liking.
The sound of cars entering the mansion grabbed her attention. She lifted her dress with both hands and took slow and tentative steps towards the window. She moved the curtain a little and peeked down at the crowd gathering in the courtyard. A distant hum of people greeting, talking, and laughing could be heard from where she was. She spotted Haider Ahmed, enthusiastically welcoming the guest.
Men from the groom’s side wore traditional suits and women were in abayas. Among them, were her would-be-in-laws.
Arbaaz Hamadi, his wife Shazia Hamadi and their son, Shehbaz Hamadi.
Laiba knew Shazia Hamadi from the mosque and vice versa. They saw each other almost every day but she had not realised the woman had taken a liking towards her, enough to ask her hand in marriage for her son.
It was shocking.
Especially for a girl like her, to receive a marriage proposal from someone as reputed and wealthy as the Hamadi(s).
If her stepmother and stepsister got to know about it, they would accuse her of bamboozling the Hamadi(s) into this marriage.
Laiba was zoned out, staring absentmindedly at the crowd when Shehbaz Hamadi caught her eye, breaking her out of the reverie.
She couldn’t tell how much he was able to see or whether he recognized her from the distance but she thought she saw the corner of his lip turning up into a smirk.
Laiba swiftly backed away from the window, her heartbeats picking a pace.
She only met Shehbaz once and according to Haider Ahmed, he was a decent man.
Laiba believed him.
Yet, she couldn’t shake off that weird feeling.
Sarah stepped inside the room after a knock.
“Hey!” She beamed, ambling towards her in an off-white lehenga, “You look beautiful. Allahuma barik!” She engulfed her in a hug.
“Is everything okay?” Sarah pulled away and held her at arm’s length.
“Yes.” She lied.
“Nervous?”
“No-” She was about to sprout another lie but then thought against it. “I mean…duh!” She slumped her shoulders in resignation.
“Understandable.” She bobbed her head, “That was a stupid question, right?”
Laiba let out a breathy laugh, “Yes, you are stupid.” She agreed.
Sarah chuckled and wrapped her arms around her for the second time, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m gonna miss your boring a**.” She said, her voice giving away the hidden emotions.
Laiba didn’t say a word, closed her eyes and tried to memorize the warmth of the only person who had ever hugged her in her entire 23 years of life.
Sarah rubbed a hand on her back, “Can I ask you something?” She whispered-asked, sensing the shift in her body language.
“Hm..mm.”
“You did not consent to this marriage only to get away from us or did you?” She questioned.
Laiba pulled herself away, “Of course, not.” She lied.
“Look at me.” She held her at arm’s length and forced her to meet her gaze. “Tell me, honestly. Are you okay with this?” She asked her for the millionth time that week.
Her answer had always been ‘yes’ but something made her pause that day.
Whatever the cause of her uneasiness was, it was certainly too late to do anything about it.
“Laiba?”
They both looked up at Haider Ahmed who was standing at the threshold of her room, smiling.
“Allahumma Barik! May Allah keep you always happy, dear daughter.”
Laiba gave him a lazy smile.
This man meant everything to her. He had been more of a father to her than her real father per se. A maseeha was sent by Allah who gave her a place to stay and treated her like their own daughter for two whole years.
“Sarah. Can you give us a minute?” He requested.
She squeezed Laiba’s hand and left the room.
As soon as she was out, Laiba faced him, knowing very well why he was there and what he wanted to talk to her about.
“So?”
“The Hamadi(s) are here.”
“And?”
A moment of silence passed between them.
“It’s okay. Tell me.” She urged him.
He pressed his lips in a thin line and shook his head.
She lowered her gaze, disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Laiba.” He was feeling sorry for her.
Why does it hurt so much? She screwed her eyes shut.
“I tried every way possible to reach him.” He added.
It was easy to find a lost person but one cannot find someone who doesn’t want to be found.
“Excuse me, sir.”
A maid poked her head into the room.
“The Hamadi(s) are asking for you.” She announced.
Laiba turned away, immediately, wiping a year that had escaped her eyes.
He spoke to Laiba in a low voice, “Listen to me. I know this is not how you wanted things to be but he left us with no choice.” He paused, “We have to proceed without him. You understand me?” He asked her.
“Laiba? I’m asking you something.”
She forced herself to give him a nod.
“Good. You have some time before the ceremony. May Allah give you sabr(patience) and strength.” He patted her head and walked out of the room.
Laiba dropped herself down on her bed and faced palmed herself, distressed.
How was she to get married without her father? Without a single blood relative?
Sure, Haider Ahmed and Sarah had been no less than family.