Chapter 16, So Much Love.

The morning of Hasan's wedding arrived, a stark contrast to the restless night he'd endured. Sleep had evaded him, replaced by a nagging fear. The reality of marriage, the huge commitment, loomed large, a terrifying prospect. He desperately wanted to reach out to his friends, to pour out his heart to them, but the lateness of the hour silenced him. For years, he'd masked his vulnerability with a jovial facade, a wide grin like a clown concealing a heart riddled with anxieties. The future, the uncertain economy, and the daunting prospect of love—these were his constant companions. He'd welcomed Mariam into his life, despite his reservations, a gamble he now regretted. He felt utterly pathetic, a fraud for trying to project an image of unwavering strength.

When his mom called him for breakfast, he was a mess. Dark circles shadowed his big brown eyes, his face was gloomy, and he was a ghost of his usual self. When she asked if he was okay or sick, he initially brushed it off, but after further prompting, he confessed he wasn't feeling well.

Hasan: "Mom, I don't think I'm ready for this."

Mother: "Hasan, my dear, you can't back down now. It's your wedding day."

Hasan: "What if she gets sick and I can't afford her medication?"

Mother: "Calm down. You're a nurse, inshallah, you'll manage. Let pray for good health for both of you."

Hasan: "What if we have children and I can't give them a good life? What if they resent me for bringing them into this world?"

Mother: "My dear boy, you're a man of strong faith. I've never heard you talk like this."

Hasan: "It's been on my mind for a long time, really, my whole life. It's not that I don't want to marry or have children. I do. But what if I fail them? What if they end up alone, like I did after Dad died and my brother disappeared?"

Mother: "Hasan, I know your father's death deeply wounded you. But he'd want you to marry, have children, and be happy. As for your brother, he's on duty. He's a military doctor assigned to a remote base, that's why he's been gone so long. He misses us, I'm sure. And while I know you and Halima are hurt by his silence, I know my son. He didn't choose to leave. He'll come back to us."

Hasan: "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to whine. I don't know what came over me."

Mother: "It's alright, dear. Everyone gets stressed on their wedding day. Now, go shower and get ready for your big day."

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"Hasan, honestly, you look like you're going to a funeral," Halima said, her small hands fiddling with his tie. She was standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach the knot.

Hasan shifted uncomfortably in his crisp, dark suit. "I'm just... nervous, Halima."

"Nervous? It's your wedding day! You're supposed to be beaming like the sun," she scolded, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tightened the tie. "Look at you, all handsome and serious. You're going to make Mariam look bad! She's glowing, and you're... well, you're frowning."

Hasan tried to relax his tense jaw. "I'm not frowning."

"Yes, you are! You're the one who's always got that big, silly grin, remember? The one that makes everyone laugh? Where's that Hasan?"

Halima stepped back, her hands on her hips, scrutinizing him. "If you don't smile, people are going to say you don't like Mariam that much."

Hasan's eyes widened. "Don't say that! I love Mariam!"

"Then show it! You're going to walk in your wedding looking like you're about to sign a contract, not marry the love of your life. Imagine the pictures! 'Hasan looks like he's regretting his decision.' That's what they'll say," Halima said, mimicking a gossipy tone.

Hasan ran a hand over his face. "Okay, okay. I'll smile. I just... I want everything to be perfect."

"It will be perfect, Hasan. But a perfect wedding includes a happy groom! Now, smile for your little sister," Halima said, poking him gently in the ribs.

Hasan took a deep breath and forced a smile, a little stiff at first.

"A little wider! Think of Mariam's smile, think of the party, think of all the delicious food!" Halima prompted, giggling.

Hasan's smile began to feel more genuine. He thought of Mariam her bright eyes and infectious laughter, and a real, warm smile spread across his face.

"That's it! That's the Hasan I know," Halima said, beaming. "Now, go get married and make Mariam the happiest bride in the world. And don't forget to smile!"

Hasan chuckled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank you, Halima. You're the best little sister a guy could ask for." He gave her a quick hug. "Now, let's go get me married."

The room buzzed with the excited chatter of family. Hasan, finally adjusted in his wedding suit, saw his grandmother approaching, her face etched with warm wrinkles and a loving smile. He immediately knelt, kissing her hand.

"Mashallah, Mashallah, my handsome grandson!" She exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. She placed soft kisses on both his cheeks, her hands cupping his face. "May Allah bless your marriage with happiness and prosperity."

Before Hasan could fully respond, a line of his aunties, Khala Amina, Khala Farida, and Khala Zarah, formed behind his grandma. Each offered their congratulations with warm hugs and, of course a flurry of kisses on his cheeks.

"Mubarak, Hasan! You look so handsome!" Khala Amina chirped, her lipstick leaving a bright red mark.

"May your home be filled with joy and laughter," Khala Farida added, her kiss leaving a softer, pink smudge.

"We're so happy for you" Khala Zarah said, her kiss leaving a slightly darker red mark.

Hasan, overwhelmed with affection, could only smile and thank them. By the time the line of aunties had finished their greetings, his cheeks were a colorful canvas of lipstick imprints. He looked slightly bewildered, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Halima, his sister, appeared with a small, damp cloth, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh my goodness, Hasan! You look like a clown for real now!"

"I feel like a clown" Hasan chuckled, touching his cheek. "I think They are very happy for me."

Halima gently dabbed at the lipstick marks, her movements quick and efficient. "They are! But now, let's get you looking like a groom again, not a canvas for auntie art."

As she wiped away the last of the lipstick, they both burst into laughter.

"Imagine Mariam seeing you like this," Halima giggled, holding up the cloth, now stained with various shades of red. "She'd think you'd been practicing your makeup."

"Don't even say that," Hasan laughed, shaking his head. "Though, I suppose it's a testament to how much they love me."

"Definitely," Halima agreed, tossing the cloth aside. "But now, you're officially lipstick-free and ready to get married. And you look very handsome."

The lipstick assault from his aunties had just ended, and Hasan was still trying to recover his composure when a new wave of well-wishers approached: his uncles. They were a different breed altogether.

Uncle Rashid, a large man with a booming laugh, was the first to reach him. "Hasan, my boy! Mubarak!" he roared, engulfing Hasan in a bear hug that nearly lifted him off his feet. "You're finally tying the knot! About time!"

Hasan gasped for air, patting his uncle's back. "Uncle Rashid! Thank you!"

Before he could regain his balance, Uncle Karim, a wiry man with a mischievous grin, stepped forward. "Let me see you, my nephew!" He grabbed Hasan's shoulders and shook him vigorously. "You look like a proper groom! But are you strong enough to handle married life?" He winked, giving Hasan another bone-crushing hug.

"Uncle Karim! I... I think so," Hasan managed, his voice slightly strained.

Uncle Tariq, the quietest of the three, but no less enthusiastic, stepped up next. He didn't say much, but his hug was just as powerful, a silent expression of his affection. He gave Hasan a firm pat on the back that resonated through his suit.

"You've grown into a fine young man," Uncle Tariq finally said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Mariam is a lucky woman."

Uncle Rashid clapped Hasan on the shoulder again. "That's right! Now, remember, Hasan, a happy wife is a happy life!" He winked, his eyes twinkling.

"And don't let her win all the arguments," Uncle Karim added, chuckling. "You've got to stand your ground!"

"Karim!" Uncle Tariq said, shaking his head, though a small smile played on his lips.

Hasan, his suit slightly rumpled and his ribs feeling a little bruised, smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Uncles. I appreciate all the... support."

"That's what uncles are for!" Uncle Rashid boomed, giving Hasan one last, hearty pat on the back. "Now, go get married and make us proud!"

As his uncles moved away, Hasan took a deep breath, trying to straighten his suit and recover from the enthusiastic greetings. He looked at Halima, who was watching him with amusement.

"They certainly have a... unique way of showing their affection," Hasan said, rubbing his shoulder.

"This is just their way of showing how happy they are for you, Hasan," Halima said, smiling. "And they're just excited to see you start this new chapter of your life."

Finally, a sense of calm descended as his friends, Maher and Omar, arrived. They approached Hasan with a more composed demeanor, a welcome change after the boisterous greetings from his family.

"Hasan, congratulations, man," Maher said, shaking his hand firmly. "We're so happy for you."

"Yeah, congratulations," Omar added, giving him a warm smile. "You look... well, you look like you've been through a lot."

"Awful, actually," Maher interjected, a playful smirk on his face. "What happened? Did you fight a bear?"

Hasan sighed, gesturing to his slightly disheveled suit and tie. "You have no idea. Aunts and uncles. It was a full-scale assault of love and enthusiastic hugs. I swear, a moment ago, I looked like a movie star."

Omar, ever the practical one, stepped forward, carefully straightening Hasan's jacket. "Here, let me fix that. Your tie's a bit crooked too." He deftly retied Hasan's tie, ensuring it sat perfectly. "Much better."

"Thanks, Omar. You're a lifesaver," Hasan said, running a hand over his smoothed-down jacket.

"I was starting to think I'd have to get married looking like I'd just rolled out of bed."

"You were close," Maher chuckled.

"Seriously, though, what happened? Did they all decide to give you a group hug at once?"

"Something like that," Hasan said, shaking his head. "First, the aunties came with their lipstick missiles, then the uncles with their bone-crushing hugs. I was a pristine groom, and then, bam! Instant chaos."

"Well, at least they love you," Omar said, giving Hasan a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "But now you're back to movie star status. Just try to avoid any more family greetings until after the ceremony."

"Good idea," Hasan agreed, smiling. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate you being here."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Maher said with a smile.

"Honestly, guys," Hasan sighed, adjusting his collar, "this is so... underwhelming. My wedding is on the roof of my house! On the ROOF! How humble is that?"

He turned to Omar. "Omar, you're a manager, you're loaded. Don't you feel even a little sorry for me?"

Omar raised an eyebrow. "I brought you a gift, didn't I?"

"You call that little fridge a gift!" Hasan exclaimed. "That's nothing for you! You could have at least offered to throw a party somewhere fancy. A ballroom, a garden, anything but my roof!"

Maher shook his head, he was stunned by Hasan's attitude. "It's amazing how you can say that with absolutely no shame, your mother raised you so well how did you become this rude?"

Hasan turned to Maher, his voice sharp. "The one who should feel shame is you! I understand you're a policeman which means you're as broke as me but even my little cousin gave me a better gift than that rusty mixer you brought!"

Maher's face flushed crimson. "A rusty mixer!"

"Very rusty!" Hasan retorted.

Maher had finally reached his limit. He grabbed Hasan by the head, his fingers tightening. "You ungrateful..."

"Maher! Stop it!" Omar intervened, trying to pry Maher's hands away. "It's his wedding day!"

"He's asking for it!" Maher growled, his grip tightening.

Just then, Hasan's cousins, who had been watching from a distance, saw the commotion. They misinterpreted the scene entirely.

"Look, they're going to lift Hasan!" one of them shouted, misinterpreting Maher's actions.

"Yeah, they're going to celebrate him!" another cousin yelled, joining in.

Before Omar could explain, the cousins rushed forward, grabbing Hasan by his arms and legs. They hoisted him into the air, chanting and cheering.

"Mubarak! Mubarak!" they shouted, throwing Hasan up and catching him.

Hasan, initially startled, found himself laughing, his complaints forgotten. "Whoa! Hey! Be careful!"

Omar, watching the scene unfold, shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, that escalated quickly."

Maher, still fuming, watched as Hasan was tossed into the air, his anger slowly dissipating. "They think we were celebrating him?"

"Looks like it," Omar said, chuckling. "Maybe next time, we'll just skip the gifts and throw him in the air ourselves."