Accepted With Flaws

-Embracing change -

˹We let you know this˺ so that you neither grieve over what you have missed nor boast over what He has granted you. For Allah does not like whoever is arrogant, boastful—
(surah Al hadid -23)

Luth's PoV
"Omaiza, we're home!" I notify. "Jazakallah," she says and gets out. "Would you like to come in?" I shake my head politely, "Nah, it's fine." "Please! It's okay. You can come in, it's been a long drive anyways!" I was still unsure. "What about Yasmin aunty?" She shakes her head, "Forget about her." Sighing, I follow her.

We step out of the car and ring the doorbell. "Assalamu alaikum," Omaiza greets, entering her house. Asma aunty hugs her, "Walaikum Assalam, baccha. You returned early." "Yeah, I... I was feeling a bit sick," Omaiza replies. Aunty caresses Omaiza's cheek, "It's okay. I was just asking. There is a guest waiting for you upstairs." She furrows her brows in confusion and runs upstairs. Who could it be?

I follow her and see a tall, handsome guy dressed in dark jeans and a folded black sleeve Fendi shirt. His eyes are hazel brown, brown hair, and pretty fit for his age.

A smile broke on Omaiza's face when she saw him. "Zaithoon! You were supposed to come tomorrow!" she covers her mouth to which he grins, "Assalamu alaikum, beautiful, I was already in Sharjah (a city in UAE) when I texted, so I thought I'd surprise you." The way he spoke to her made me uncomfortable? "Thank you," Omaiza smiles and looks at me. "Luth h , this is my best friend, Zaithoon. And Zaithoon, this is Luth . He's the one—" "The one you're getting married to." I complete the sentence.

I shake his hand, "Assalamu alaikum, Zaithoon. Nice meeting you." "Walaikum Salam, brother. You can call me Olive. It's nice meeting you," he spoke with a slight Arab accent. So best friend huh? Omaiza excuses herself and leaves the room.

"So, Luth h , I know everyone has already thanked you for what you have done, but I just want to do one thing..." He hugs me. The sudden affection tenses me up, but I am able to relax enough to return the hug. "She may be annoying, but she's innocent and naive. Omaiza has a talent for overthinking," he sighs and continues, "I've known her since playschool and all she ever wanted was to bring a smile to everyone's face. It was difficult for her to adjust. You know it's not easy being a hijabi because no one wanted to become friends with her." He looks at me, waiting for a response. "I know right, I've seen those weird stares people gave my mum and sister," I resume. "And then Yusra and her mom," he rolls his eyes. "In short, I hope she finds peace with you Luth ." I'm short of words. "In sha Allah," I genuinely smile. A part of me is jealous, but I'm also glad he's friends with Omaiza. If they weren't, she would've sealed herself in her own bubble.

I checked my phone after hearing it vibrate and sigh. "Hey, I'm sorry, I'll have to leave." I stand up. "It's okay. We'll see each other soon, in sha Allah." We hug once more, and I walk down the stairs.

A pain shoots in my heart after talking to Zaithoon. Ya rabbi, jealousy? No no ways.

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Omaiza's POV

"Okay, I'm back! Sorry it took me a while." I apologize. Zaithoon was on his phone, but Luth h was nowhere to be found. "Where's Luth ?" He smirks, "Missing Luth h already?" I roll my eyes, "Shut up." He lets out a soft laugh, "I think he just had some work to do. He got a text message and just left." A text? I hope everything is fine.

"Okay, sit. Now tell me your nikkah plans." "Uh, well you see..." Zaithoon takes the seat next to me , "Za, what happened?" I take a deep breath. I want to be frank, with no twists and turns. "I'm getting married tomorrow." I stare at the floor as if it's the most interesting thing around me. "Tomorrow? What? Why?" He waits for me to continue, but I stay silent. "Please, explain yourself!" No response. "No wait, you are not... using Luth ?" I shake my head, "Olive, I just want to leave. I want to get away from them." He looks at me in pain, "Please don't tell me you're only using Luth h to get away!" He gets up from his seat and runs his hands through his hair. "No omaiza, that's not you! How could you be so selfish?" A lump forms in my throat, hundreds of thoughts running through my mind. "I'm not being selfish! I'm just tired of all the criticisms and bullying!"

Zaithoon kneels down in front of me, placing his hands on his knees. "Omaiza, you are a strong woman," he says slowly. "And about Luth , I just feel like he will be there for you. I feel like he will treat you with care. Just don't cheat yourself za." Tears escape from my eyes, stinging. I bury my face in my hands. "I'm scared, Olive. I'm afraid to trust. What if he thinks badly of me too? I'm not perfect! I'm no good for him!" I hiccup between my tears. "I'm too incompetent for him. I can't ruin his life?" I feel him get up and pat my head.

"I just feel like his feelings are sincere. Like he was obviously shocked to see me, but he held himself from asking about our friendship," Zaithoon speaks out softly. "No one is perfect, Omaiza, but Allah is." I sniffle quietly. How is he so sure about Luth ? "I trust Allah, but I still doubt myself. I don't know what to do." "Pray Istikhara (a prayer of guidance recited during times of indecision). Allah will help you, habibti." I let out a deep breath, "In sha Allah."

We decide to go downstairs after a few minutes of silence.

"Olive, why don't you stay here with us?" Abbu asked. "That's okay, uncle. I already booked a room," Zaithoon declined. Abba nods, "If you need any help, feel free to call me. You can join us for any meal. We'd love to have you here!" "In sha allah, I will," he replies sheepishly and turns to me. "Omaiza, I'll call Luth h and ask if he needs any help for tomorrow. I will text you after freshening up." "In sha allah. Take care!"

I watch him leave and close the door behind him. As I turn around, Asma aunty leans against the wall, arms folded to her chest. "Aunty? What happened?" She hums, "Nothing. Just thinking?" "Oh," I gently pull her sleeve to follow me to the kitchen, "What are you thinking about?" "Nothing, my baccha."

I sit on the kitchen counter, pouting. "Please, Asmu." Her face turns red, "How do you know my nickname?" I giggle, "I once heard uncle call you Asmu." I squeal as she pinches my nose.

"Okay, okay," she huffs. "If Zaid hadn't asked for Mahira's hand, I would have asked Zaithoon to marry Mahira." I look at her, stunned. "Are you for real?" Aunty nods, "But it's okay! 'We plan and Allah plans, and indeed Allah is the best of planners,' so I trust Allah." "May Allah shower loads and loads of barakah into everyone's life, in sha Allah, and may He bless us with what's best for us in this world and the hereafter." "Amen. When did you start talking like a granny?" I laugh sarcastically. "I don't know. I just felt like I needed to say so..."

Should I tell aunty about my nikkah? I'm not sure how she will handle my decision. It's incredibly sudden.

"Aunty, where is Yasmin aunty and Yusra?" "They went to meet up with some of their relatives." I hum, fidgeting with my fingers. "There is something I need to tell you, aunty?" She walks to me and cups my face. "Anything, sweetheart." "Luth h and I will do our nikkah tomorrow, in sha allah." A frown appears on her face, but it disappears quickly. "What? Ya Allah! Mabrook!" she hugs me before continuing, "You're no longer a kid, Omaiza! I'll always support you, sweetheart. I'm sure you have a reason for taking this decision." A smile flickers across my face.

This is why I love her so much. She's never judgmental and supports me endlessly. "I love you, Asmu." She coos, "Aww, stop that, Omaiza. I love you too, bacha."

"What would you like to eat, Omaiza?" aunty asks as she prepares some snacks for us. I shrug as I munch on some pakodas. "I'll eat whatever you prepare."

Tomorrow's going to be one long day...