There comes the groom

*Jasmine's POV*

Today our whole household was in a state of uproar. My eldest sisters Jaleesa and Aïsha, who were already married, helped us prepare for days now. My sisters were flying around the house to get everything cleaned in time. It had to be spotless and absolutely perfect.

I was tasked to make tons of sweets, which I really enjoyed. But I couldn't understand why Naïma was so overly excited about meeting the total stranger, with whom, if everything went well, she would marry within a month.

Honestly, I couldn't figure out why she was so thrilled with the occasion. I mean, wasn't she afraid to be trapped in a loveless marriage? It sounded like a complete nightmare to me. My hopes and dreams consisted of books, gaining knowledge and having a career of my own. Dad met mom when he was on a business trip in the United states. Mom had a doctors degree and dad had always been in awe of her passionate character and her fondness to expand knowledge. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I sighed.

"Yazz!" Naïma shouted. Confused about the sudden fuss, I stared at my sister. "Why aren't you dressed yet?!" Naïma went on in the same shrieking voice. I glanced at my stained kitchen apron and snickered while I examined my flower covered hands.

Naïma didn't look amused, so I coughed to masquerade my laugh. "Well…" I started while looking at the clock above the kitchen door. "To be honest I actually don't understand why I have to be there. I mean, he is coming to marry you, so why do I need to fuss?" I said sourly.

"Jasmine I have told you and I will tell you again, that the choice has not been made," My brother in law said, interrupting the conversation. What an up tied prick, I thought to myself. He thinks he is all that because he is the son of a sheik. I hated him with everything within me. For the last couple of months he had made my life a living hell.

"But-" I tried. "Don't start," Saeed said waving his hand as in to stop me from talking. "We will make sure he won't pick you anyway. Wear your eye veil and say and act like we've practiced. For God sake, you should just act like yourself, that would put him off instantly. After Naïma is married, I will ask father for your hand," he said eyeing me from head to toe.

Horror struck,I froze in place. I should of known that this was what he wanted. Every night of these last few months he stalked into my room at night. If I was lucky, he would only stare at me. "Yes an eye veil to cover those precarious green eyes of yours," Saeed added in a tone I couldn't identify. I was going to throw up.

"What?!" Naïma questioned Saeed, after she threw a shocked expression in my direction. "I have discussed this with Aïsha and she is fine with it." Saeed said as if that would explain his claim. "Why would she want to marry you, you're my sister's husband?" Naïma asked puzzled. Hadn't she notices the quick 'accidental' touches, the strange long stares --. "And even if you weren't." I said without concealing my disgust. I would regret doing so later.

"Listen to me and listen very well" Saeed proceeded. "Your father is very sick, God only knows how long he has. Considering your dreadful feminist ideas and that sharp tongue of yours, you are very lucky that I want to marry you at all. And if you behave, I might let you take a course or two." My stomach twisted again and fury build up. "You might let me what?!" I almost shouted. "What I will and will not do, will never be up to you. I would rather die than to be your second wife."

Did my father know about this monstrous proposal? I mean dad would never agree to let me get married at 17 right? It wasn't uncommon in our society. "I will marry you in six months and that is the end of that." Saeed growled. I swallowed loudly, unable to look at his direction. "Naïma will you help me get dressed?" I finally asked meaningfully, trying to get away from this nightmarish situation.

Naïma nodded and without acknowledging my brother in law's words, I walked past him, following Naïma out of the kitchen. Before my feet hit the threshold, Saeed yanked me back by my wrists. "Don't try anything funny in there, you hear me," he said threatening. "You will be mine," Saeed added possessively. Naïma and I fled up the stairs, all humor gone. Neither one of us brought the subject up again.

I quickly thought of something to talk about, before the subject of marriage to Saeed would come up. I was trying so hard to hold it together, I just wanted to die. "So if I get this straight-" I began while Naïma helped me get dressed. "That guy is here to decide which sister he is going to marry?" I squeaked shaking my head.

What cruel game was this? Jaleesa walked into the bedroom and soothed Naïma, who was sobbing quietly. "Don't worry, he'll choose you. We'll make sure he will," she said while raising my sisters chin and drying her tears. As usual, I was mystified by Naïma's way of thinking. How could she, so eagerly want to marry a man she had never met?! Sure, our father didn't have much time left, so finding a husband became even more urgent. But still… by marrying him, she would have to leave us, leave our country. I would probably never see her again.

There had to be another way.

The doorbell rang. It wasn't time yet, was it? I gave myself a last glance in the mirror, but there wasn't much to see, rather than black. I wore a black abaya over my dress and my eyes were veiled. We hurried down the stairs. I sighed.

Normally we would only wear the black cloak when we went outside our home. My covered blond curly hair, that reached till my hips, was tidily made into a bun. I heard two voices from our dining room when Naïma and I walked to dads room. I looked at Naïma but she just held up her shoulders.

"The young man has made an unusual request." Saeed frowned when he walked into the room. He wants both of you to make him a dish of your own choice. They will help you cook and then, he wants you to serve him the dish and have a little talk with him. I know this is very unaccustomed, but I have agreed to it." Saeed directed himself to my father.

'They'?!

"No, I can't, I just can't." Naïma said shaking her head franticly. "This is bad Jazz," She said with a pleading look in her eyes. "Naïma's cooking skills weren't bad, but it did not help that I excelled at cooking. "What do you want me to cook father?" she asked anxious. "Naïma if you prepare your future husband my favorite meal, then Jasmine can make a dessert," Dad said coughing.

A dessert? "Seriously?!" I said. "Couldn't he have come up with this brilliant idea last night or something. I mean come on, he could of said something to you about this yesterday, when you met him and his family?" I complained. "He's not supposed to enjoy your dish anyway," Naïma said.

"You should only be concerned about helping me," She continued. "Sure sure," I replied and pouted my lips. Of course I didn't care whether he thought I could cook or not. Still, I didn't like the feeling of being put on the spot like that.

While I was getting started on the rice pudding, I heard an unfamiliar voice from behind and I jumped. "I'm Daniel and this is my friend Ryan." A short guy with dark curly hair and eyes as black as night said.

I was horror struck. That was not 'Ryan'! Our eyes were locked.