Chapter 14, Finding Love?

3 years later :

"Hasan, my dear," his mother began, patting the cushion beside her, "Come, sit with me for a moment."

Hasan sighed internally. He knew this tone. He sat down, bracing himself.

"Hasan," she continued, her voice softening, "You're not getting any younger, you know. Men your age are already starting families."

Hasan rolled his eyes. "That's not true, Mama. Omar and Maher are still single, and they're older than me! And frankly," he added, puffing out his chest slightly, "they're not even as handsome as I am. If you're saying that my chances are not good then what about poor them?"

"I don't care about Omar and Maher," his mother said firmly. "This is about you. It's time. It's settled."

"Settled?" Hasan exclaimed. "Mama, I don't even have time for this! I'm busy with work, and... and I don't even like anyone in particular!"

"It's not necessary that you like someone," she replied, waving her hand dismissively.

Hasan stared at her. "So, who am I supposed to marry then?"

"I'll find you a good girl," she said confidently.

"You'll find me a girl?" Hasan asked incredulously. "Mama, shouldn't you at least ask me what my type is?"

His mother smiled knowingly.

"I know your type, Hasan. That's exactly why I'm choosing the girl for you. Your type is... well, let's just say it's toxic. I'll find you someone good, someone suitable, someone who will make you happy."

Hasan threw his hands up in an objection.

"Mama, that's not what I meant! I have standards! I like girls who are..."

He was trying to articulate his highly specific vision.

"You know, not too tall, not too short. With beautiful eyes, of course. And a sense of humor! And good taste in food. And she has to be able to cook well, obviously. Someone who knows how to make me smile, and laughs at my jokes. Not too sensitive, not too strict... and definitely not allergic to cats! Oh, and most importantly, she has to understand all the references in my favorite show'!"

His mother stared at him, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"Hasan," she said slowly, "you're being very shallow and childish. Those things are not important for a successful marriage!"

"But Mama," Hasan protested, "those are the things that make me happy!"

"Happiness is not the only thing in marriage, Hasan. You need stability, responsibility, and companionship. I want to find you a mature girl who can take care of a family, because frankly, Hasan,"

she added, her voice softening with concern, "you're already childish and irresponsible enough for two people. If you end up with a girl just like you, it will be a disaster! Your poor children will suffer!"

Hasan slumped back on the cushion, defeated. He knew his mother was probably right, but the idea of marrying someone he didn't even know, chosen by his mother, filled him with dread. He longed for someone who understood him, someone who shared his passions, someone who laughed at his jokes and quoted Phrases from his favorite works of fiction with him. But maybe, just maybe, his mother knew best.

_____________________

Hasan shuffled reluctantly behind his mother as they approached the house. He knew what this was.

Another "potential match." He'd lost count of how many he'd been dragged to.

His mother had known this woman, her friend Fatima, since they were children. She'd seen Fatima and her daughter, Mariam, in the park recently and declared it a "divine sign." Mariam, he'd been told, was an English teacher. Beautiful, smart, and shy, his mother had gushed. Hasan remained skeptical.

They entered the house and were greeted warmly by Fatima and her husband. Hasan mumbled a greeting, his eyes fixed on the intricate pattern of the rug.

He sat down, as instructed, and remained quiet while his mother took over, launching into a lively conversation about their shared childhood and how perfect Mariam would be for Hasan.

He just nodded along, feeling awkward and trapped.

Then, Mariam walked in.

Hasan's carefully constructed indifference shattered. He was speechless.

Mariam was... breathtaking. His mother hadn't exaggerated. She was indeed beautiful, and there was a shyness about her that he found incredibly endearing.

He felt his cheeks flush crimson.

Mariam, equally flustered, offered a shy smile and took a seat. She didn't say anything, her own face mirroring Hasan's blush. The air crackled with unspoken tension.

The two mothers, oblivious to the silent communication happening across the room, continued their animated conversation.

Hasan and Mariam just sat there, nodding occasionally, too flustered to speak. Every time their eyes met, they quickly looked away, their blushes deepening. Hasan felt like his tongue had swollen to twice its normal size. Words simply wouldn't come.

Finally, the visit came to an end. Hasan's mother stood up, beaming I'll. As they were leaving, Hasan, in a sudden burst of courage, managed to stammer, "Goodbye, Mariam."

Mariam's eyes met his for a fleeting moment. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod and whispered, "Goodbye."

Hasan walked out, his mind reeling. He couldn't remember a single word Mariam had said, but he knew one thing: he was in love.

_______________________

Omar and Maher sat at the cafe, nursing their coffees. Omar checked his watch for the third time. "He's late," he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Hasan's never late, especially when he knows I'm picking up the tab."

Maher chuckled. "Maybe he finally found a girl who can tolerate his... eccentricities."

"Don't jinx it," Omar replied. "Knowing Hasan, he's probably just stuck in traffic or something."

Just then, Hasan arrived, practically bouncing with energy. He was positively glowing. "Sorry I'm late, guys!" he said, flashing them a wide grin. He slid into the booth, his eyes sparkling.

Omar and Maher exchanged puzzled glances. This wasn't the usual Hasan. He was... different. Happier.

"What's with the Cheshire Cat impression?" Maher asked. "Did you win the lottery or something?"

Maher then turned to Omar and said. ". You ask him, You know how he gets when I ask . He'll turn it into some elaborate joke and I'm not in the mood."

Omar sighed. "Fine. Hasan, what's up? You seem... unusually cheerful."

Hasan took a deep breath, a dreamy look in his eyes. "Guys," he announced, his voice filled with emotion, "I'm getting married."

Omar and Maher stared at him, speechless. Then, in unison, they exclaimed, "What?!"

Hasan beamed. "You heard me! I'm getting married! And you're both invited to the wedding, of course."

Maher and Omar stared at Hasan, still reeling from his announcement.

"Married?!" Maher finally managed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I didn't even know you were engaged!"

Omar chimed in, equally surprised. "Yeah, Hasan, you've never even seemed remotely interested in anyone romantically. This is... unexpected."

Hasan grinned, a dreamy look in his eyes. "I wasn't looking," he said , "but sometimes, you know, these things just... happen. I found my other half."

Maher raised an eyebrow. "Your other half? Since when did you start believing in that stuff?"

Hasan chuckled. "I didn't, really. But it seems the Almighty took pity on my lonely soul and decided to bless me with a lovely other half. She's... perfect." He paused, lost in thought. "We just clicked. It's like we've known each other forever."

Omar smiled warmly. "Well, Hasan, I'm genuinely happy for you. Seriously. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Omar," Hasan replied, beaming. "I'm sure you guys will find someone too. Maybe not in some grand, romantic, head-over-heels way like me," he added with a chuckle,

"but you'll find someone. You're both practical men, not dreamy romantics like myself."

He then turned to Maher, who was staring at him with a rather... intense expression. "Maher," Hasan said, a slight nervousness creeping into his voice, "you might want to wipe that scary look off your face. No woman's going to come near you if you look like that"

Maher's eyes widened slightly, and he seemed to snap out of his trance.

He blinked a few times, then a slow grin spread across his face. "Is that so? You think I have a scary face?"

But before Hasan could reply, Maher lunged forward, grabbed Hasan's head and started choking him.

"You think you're so special, huh? Mr. Dreamy Romantic! Just wait till I get my hands on you!"

Omar, as usual, stepped in to play peacemaker. "Alright, alright, Maher, that's enough! You'll kill him!"

He pulled Maher off Hasan, who was now laughing and gasping for air. "I'm sorry man. You still can't take a joke"

For the rest of the night, Hasan became a one-man love-struck machine. He regaled Omar and Maher with every detail of his whirlwind romance, from the moment he first saw Mariam to their most recent phone call.

He recounted every word she'd said, analyzing each syllable for hidden meanings and signs of reciprocated affection.

He talked about their shared dreams, their future together, their (as yet unborn) children. He even described, in vivid detail, the wedding he had already begun planning in his head, down to the color of the napkins and the type of flowers in the centerpieces.

Omar and Maher listened patiently, occasionally exchanging amused glances. They were happy for Hasan, truly, but his relentless stream of gushing pronouncements about his fiancée was starting to wear thin. Every time there was a lull in the conversation, Hasan would jump right back in, eager to share another anecdote, another detail, another declaration of his undying love. By the end of the night, Omar and Maher were ready to jump off a bridge.