Today we are attending a dinner party, that Sarah organized. Only Ahmed's immediate family will be there, all his brothers, along with their wives and children.

I wore a mauve tulle skirt, that matched with a white lace top. I just finished combing my hair and tying it into a bun, then I put on a silk black hijab. I did my makeup — light and neutral. I look at my reflection on the mirror and smile limply. To be honest I am not eager to attend the dinner party. Right now all I am is a woeful and glum bride. I just want to sit down, without being reminded one way or another, that I am a bride and my husband is Ahmed.

The game of silence began, this time it was I who started it. Two days have passed, without talking, though small-talk was present. There's nothing left to say...

He doesn't spend the day in the villa, he either goes out with Imad or just goes out alone, when we part ways — when I go out with Sarah. I don't know where he goes, but when he goes out alone, Ahmed comes back at dawn after I have prayed fajr prayers. I don't feel the need to ask him about his whereabouts, it's not my business.

I miss familiarity, I miss my best-friend who knows exactly what to say to cheer me up. My mother's hugs, that I really need one right now. I miss my parents. That's my family... was my family. Now all I have left is Hudaa (alhamdulliah) and she isn't here. I thought I could do this alone, but it got harder the moment having hope in Ahmed, became illusive. How am I suppose to have dinner with him accompanied with his relatives, when I can't even look at him.

Howbeit, you know what my mum would say to me if she were here with me, she would tell to have patience and give Ahmed time and that marriage isn't easy and it takes a lot of sabr (endurance).

I sniffled quietly, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. I didn't want to cry, my eyes would swell and turn red. I head to the bathroom and get a tissue, just in case... I force a smile, practicing for the dinner party. After regaining control of my emotions, I put on my shoes and go to check on Imad. He should be ready by now. I knocked on his door and spoke: "Imad are you ready?" I asked as I entered the bedroom.

"Yes I am," he replied, walking out of the bathroom. Wearing a Batman t-shirt and dark-blue jeans.

"You look nice," I told him and smiled. He ran over to me and hugs me.

"Layla you look like a princess," he spoke and looked up at me.

"Thank you." I smiled genuinely. "Put on your shoes and come downstairs to wait for your Uncle Ahmed."

"Okay!" He yelled excitedly, and put on his shoes. I made my way downstairs, I wore three inch heels that Sarah made me buy. Thanks to Hudaa, I am less likely to fall down the stairs because my best friend made sure I wore heels at some point of my life. I got downstairs, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Imad rushed down the stairs and went to the living room balcony, he loves it there.

The main door opened, and Ahmed walked in. Already dressed, wearing a suit and holding a bouquet of red roses. Ahmed looked like one of those guys from a romantic movie, you know the one where the guy gets all dressed up to make a grand gesture for the girl. "Hi," he says, and closes the door.

"Hey," I reply and shift my gaze to my cold hands, clenching my clutch bag. I walk cautiously towards the living room, making sure that I don't fall. Ahmed strides over to me and stands in front of me, he says nothing for a while. I could feel his stare, that makes me self-conscious, at times.

"These are for you," he said, handing me the bouquet of roses.

"Thank you?" I spoke hesitant. Why would he get me flowers?

"Yeah we should get going," he spoke, walking away without an explanation for the flowers. I nodded my head, in agreement. As I took a step to walk, I tripped over my skirt and lost my balance. Ahmed turned swiftly and promptly put his hand on my waist and held me against his chest. I kept my hand on his chest, to keep some distant. His hand still on my waist and our gazed locked. Barely blinking, his eyes were like falling stars, that couldn't hold themselves up anymore. They were dim and tired, probably worn from days of regret of poor decision. I was tied up in knots, for a little while. I felt overwrought, my heart pounded. I gathered the little courage I had and stepped back, his hand leaving my waist instantly and his gaze shifting.

"Imad!" He yelled. "Time to go." I held on to the flowers, and breathed out. I turned around and walked towards the kitchen counter and kept the bouquet there. Why is he so perplex?

We got in his car, I sat in the front with him and Imad sat at the back. I looked outside the window, looking at the tall, diverse buildings. As we were driving to our destination, Imad and me played a game, "I spy" — to refrain from the silence and boredom. In a matter of minutes the car stopped — by the docks. There was a cruise, with beautiful string lights that made it look so lively. Imad was the most excited, he couldn't wait to get on. The sky filled with still-grey clouds, the chilly air that brushed against my face. My hijab annoyingly flying on my face. Ahmed led us into the cruise, we walked on the creaking board. With with each step I took, my heart beat escalated.

When we got inside, there was an open space, that had two long tables set up in the middle. Exquisite china plates on both of the tables. The place was decorated with huge floating gold and transparent confetti balloons, and a gold banner hanged up written in a white cursive font, Congratulations Ahmed & Layla. A waitress welcomed us offering beverages, but neither Ahmed or me took one. I was overwhelmed and dumbstruck, I kept on admiring the decorations.

There were number of women, and children. The only person I recognized from the crowd was Sarah, wearing a silver sequenced, fitting dress and her hair straightened. She looked elegant. "The groom and bride is here," she announced, while walking to us. Everyone started cheering and clapping. A little girl approached Imad, held his hand and they ran off together to a group of other kids.

A sudden warmth caught my attention, Ahmed held my hand. He clasped my hand, our fingers interlaced. Sarah walked up to us and spoke : "You look beautiful," she complimented. "Oh and my brother looking dashing as always."

"Thank you," I told her, and smiled. "You look glamorous."

"Layla you are too gracious. I am gladden to hear that," she spoke. Ahmed said nothing, he was still holding my hand. "Can I borrow your wife? I want her to meet the others."

"Yes sure," he said.

"The men are at the deck, smoking shisha. You should join them," Sarah told Ahmed. He let go of my hand. I followed Sarah to a group of ladies, who were all in fancy dresses and expense jewelry.

"So you are Ahmed's wife." One of the woman spoke. "So what did you do to get him to marry you. For all anyone knows he's married to his work... Unless you're pregnant?"

"What no! That's absurd," I quickly jumped to my reply.

"Don't mind her Layla, she's just joking," Sarah said. After being introduced to all the women, they started conversing in Arabic and it was just random talk that I did not include myself in. Until Talal's wife Lamya, started speaking about her husband's mum — Madam Samia. Sarah's facial expression changed, though she didn't engage herself nor stop the conversation.

"She's crazy." All the woman started nodding their in heads in agreement, except for Sarah and me. "I would never want my kids to be around her nor my husband. She only speaks nonsense and among my siblings I am the only one cursed with the worst mother-in-law."

I remained quite, I didn't want to say anything that I would regret. But why doesn't Sarah say something, that's her mother, the one who gave birth to her and raised her. "That woman's only savior is death," Lamya added. I couldn't help it...

"Madam Samia is not crazy she's sick, she has Alzheimer's. Her memory isn't good as it used to be, but all she talks about is her children who abandoned her. You don't get to talk about her like that, because you don't know her. To be honest you don't deserve to have a her as a mother-in-law," I spoke my tone higher than hers. Lamya's glare was sharp, as if lined with shards of glass the edged.

"The food is ready," Sarah said, breaking the awkward silence. Everyone dispersed and headed to the table. Well there goes giving a good first impression. I turned around and see the waiters placing food on the tables. The men also came in and everyone sat next their husbands. The other table was for kids and Imad sat there.

I sat next to Ahmed. Everyone was eating the same thing, and I enjoyed the meal. It was quite delicious, lobster with rice. For the starters, everyone was served soup, that was also delicious. But I couldn't eat properly because Mena still glared at me, from time to time.

When we finished eating, a three tiered cake was brought as dessert. Layla and I had to cut the cake. Sarah insisted that I feed her a piece of cake and I did. Today gave me an excuse to hold her hand, I didn't want to let go.

Layla looked ravishing today, I wish I could tell her. I keep on wishing for things lately, like taking back what I said the other day. I want to apologize but I don't know how I would start, maybe roses would be a nice a peace offering, I thought. I haven't had proper sleep for two nights, being on the same bed as her is out of the question. She doesn't talk much, at least not with me. I would rather have her shout at me, than endure the silence.

After dessert, we left immediately claiming that it has been a long day and we are tired. Which they actually were, in the car Layla and Imad slept during the drive back to the hotel. When we reached the Villa, I woke up Layla and she barely made it upstairs without tripping. I carried Imad upstairs to his bedroom.

When I entered the other bedroom, I found Layla on the sofa. Fast asleep, holding her scarf in her hand. Her kohl-black hair flowed over her shoulders, that covered some parts of her face. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping velvety eyelashes, she looked scenic. I couldn't help but steal glances.

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