...
Malika,

I'm glad I found the letters, even if you didn't want me to read them. Without them, I would have never known your soft heart, your strength and resilience, or found the words that speak directly to my soul.

Not many can love the way you do. There's a lot to learn from the way you continue to view your loved ones with forgiveness and kindness.
...

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, and before Malika knew it, she was sitting for the last finals of her University life.

It was more underwhelming than she expected it to be. Malika walked into the building she frequented for four years like any other day, and walked out realizing this was the last time she'd be a full time student, considering she had no plans for higher studies.

Unlike most of her peers, Malika was glad to be done with this stage of her life. She realized that she still had a lot of healing to do from the experiences she had in high school. So before entering the next phase of her life, Malika dedicated the last few months of her University life, and also some time after that, to healing, finding herself and strengthening her relationship with God. She sought out professional help for her anxiety as Dahlia suggested.

Malika realized she had every right to build a relationship with Allah if she wanted to, and that she could no longer let her past define her. Allah did not discriminate, only people did. Her insecurities may have stemmed from other's treatment of her, but they settled in her heart because she allowed them to. She needed to learn to see her own worth if she ever wanted to be valued. She needed to learn to love herself and her religion properly before she could love anyone else.

On the day of her convocation, Malika stayed curled up on her bed and watched reruns of Friends. Her mother insisted she was going to regret it someday. But Malika doubted it. She had no special friends or attachment to her University. However, she did show up as a guest for Dahlia and Layla's convocation, who graduated four months later, and cheered for them wholeheartedly.

The girls were done throwing their caps into the air and bidding their classmates goodbye as they walked towards her.

"Finally stepping into the real world," Dahlia cried as she stepped closer to Malika. "What's it like on the other side?"

"Meh." Malika shrugged. "Kind of sucks, but you'll get through it."

Their graduation dinner was hosted by their mothers unanimously, along with some of Dahlia's sisters and Salman. They went to the famous kabab house with the bright pleather cubicles. Malika heard this place was being turned into a burger joint. She roamed her eyes sadly around the familiar interior as she recalled the number of mundane afternoons she had spent here with her brother and friends, and couldn't think of a better place to celebrate.

Idle chatter was going around the table. Malika knew the stress of figuring out what they wanted to do would be upon them soon, but for the time being, she wanted to enjoy the moment surrounded by her loved ones.

They were knee deep in kabab platters when Dahlia pried her away from the crowd. The girl just murmured in her ear that she needed her for a minute, and then the next thing Malika knew, she was clutching her arm and leading the way.

Malika thought they were going to the bathroom. But she saw Dahlia striding towards the front door.

"Where are we going?"

The hijabi looked over her shoulder. There was a sly smile on her lips. "There's someone here to meet you."

Malika widened her eyes. Her heart leaped to her chest. Her friends were going to be the end of her someday. "Dels, what did you do?!"

"Oh, Ibi wanted me to hand them to you but I thought he should do it himself!"

"What are you talking about?" Malika cried cluelessly. "Hand me what? And wait, he's here too?" Realization dawned on her.

They were already out of the door. The city welcomed them with endless honking. At one end of the parking lot, Malika noticed a white car and Ibrahim leaning against the hood.

He was bobbing his leg up and down in anticipation. At their sight, Ibrahim stood up.

He was in simple jeans and a polo shirt. His curly hair had grown a little and covered most of his forehead. The old watch glimmered on his wrist. Ibrahim was constant and comforting even with the way he looked.

Malika stood a few feet away from him. The wind picked up around them, whipping the scarf wrapped around her head on her face - a practice she adopted right after her own graduation. Making the decision to stop caring about what others thought of her looks and dress to please Allah alone was the most liberating moment of her life.

Malika let herself be in Ibrahim's presence before she approached him. For a moment, she waited for that feeling of pain to come back, like they always did around him.

But it didn't.

It was, at that moment, that Malika realized she no longer felt that desperation regarding him. She still felt the sadness that accompanied unrequited love, but the feeling of worthlessness that followed her love for all those years had disappeared.

"Well, I'll just be... around," Dahlia said, pointing over her shoulder. "Let me know when you're done." She looked at her brother.

Malika watched her friend wait a few feet away and then looked back at Ibrahim. He was avoiding directly looking at her, like he often did when around Malika.

She nervously rubbed the palms of her hands on her dress. "Hi," she said.

"Congratulations on graduating," Ibrahim smiled.

"Thanks," she smiled back. "And same to you," Malika said, though he opted not to attend his convocation as well and instead decided to accompany his father for a meeting.

He was fumbling with a couple of envelopes, Malika's eyes landed on his hands to find her letters. Surprise flooded her at the sight.

Following her gaze, Ibrahim lowered his eyes as well. "I came here to give you these."

"You want to return them?" Malika asked quizzically.

"They're not your letters." Ibrahim looked up. She saw something vulnerable lurking in them. "These are the ones I wrote for you."

Malika swallowed. "Oh."

He stepped forward and handed her the letters. Malika took them with nervous hands and stared at them.

"After I read yours, it felt wrong not to respond to them," he said.

Malika didn't know what to expect. She had no idea what the letters contained, but she felt a tremor in her heart just at the sight.

"You responded to my letters?" she asked.

"Yeah."

Malika knew at that moment she could never love anyone else the way she loved him. From the bottom of her heart she made a prayer for him, that he receives the best, whatever it may be. Because if there's anyone in the world who deserved it, it was him.

"You and I have been trying, and failing, to have a proper conversation with each other. Something seems to always get in the way." His eyes twinkled playfully. "It was Dahlia's idea to pen down my thoughts into words. She helped me write them too. I'm not sure where you stand anymore but I hope this gives you clarity on where I am."

Malika looked at him. "I-thank you," she managed to get out. "I honestly don't know what to say."

"That's alright. Take your time. Also, I know you didn't want me to read your letters," he said. "I have them with me as well. So if you want them, you can have them back."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of her old friends. She had, so many times, considered asking for them back.

However, she couldn't bring herself to. She finally felt like her letters had found home. She couldn't think of a safer place for her old friends than with Ibrahim.

"It's okay," she said. "They were written for you after all. You're the rightful owner of them."

"Thanks."

A beat passed, then with a quick goodbye, he left.

Malika read his letters. Then she read them again and again. Just like he did with hers.

"I hope you realize with Ibrahim there's only one future, that's marriage," Layla reminded her one evening.

The words might have scared the wits out of Malika once upon a time, but not anymore. Feeling as she did for him, and knowing he reciprocated them, she had no reason not to want to progress in that direction.

They finally got to have that meeting. This time, Malika was the one who requested it. She decided it was time they clarified all the misunderstandings between them and set a course of direction for where the relationship was heading.

This time, Dahlia was determined to be a mindful chaperone. To ensure that, she arranged their meeting in that waffle place next door.

It was awkward at first, Ibrahim didn't have a lot of experience with communicating with the opposite gender, and Malika still couldn't believe this surreal moment was taking place.

They started slowly, first Ibrahim and Malika discussed the letters, their lives at the moment, and their hobbies. The conversation soon progressed to their futures and what they wanted out of their lives in the long run.

If there was anything Malika learned, it was that a simple life surrounded by loved ones was all she needed. She dreamt of a life with a partner who valued her and a house filled with love and respect to raise a family in. Ibrahim shot her a look of admiration when she said that, because that's all he wanted as well.

He asked her about her favorite Islamic scholars. Ibrahim was a religious man through and through and this was something that was important to him. It was important to Malika too. Religion was what shaped her mind and the past few years of her life, though she was slow to accept it. Malika admitted to him that she still had a long way to go before she could call herself a practicing muslim, but she was working everyday to get there. Ibrahim seemed excited to introduce her to his favorite lecturers.

Soon, Malika confided in her mother as well. Neela Bashir only had one concern, "Do you think you're ready?"

Her mother was worried that they were still young. Ibrahim only recently started working, and Malika had yet to figure out what career path she wanted to take. They had yet to have stability in their individual lives and the rest of their lives remained to be determined.

Malika knew marriage was no joke, and decisions like that couldn't be made on the whim of a heart, Malika learned that much witnessing her mother's life. However, if she felt ready to face the challenges of marriage with anyone, she knew it would be with Ibrahim. She loved him more than she thought she was capable of loving another human - but that wasn't all. Malika felt in her gut that they had what it would take to build a good life together.

Ibrahim's parents were hesitant too, but for different reasons.

His mother sat him down one evening. She told him, "The girl and her family, they don't have the best reputation in this society. I know people can be cruel in their judgment, but you also have to understand that if you choose to marry this girl, you will have to put up with this judgment for the rest of your life." The mother's brows furrowed in concern. "Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"

He met her gaze, his own eyes unwavering. "Mom, you of all people should know I don't make hasty decisions."

"She comes with a lot of baggage. It's not for the faint of heart, Ibrahim."

He held her hand. "You have always trusted me to make the right decision, I ask you to trust me again."

The mother only pursed her lips in response, knowing her son was calm, quiet and logical but he was also stubborn. Once he made up his mind, he wasn't easily swayed.

Malika, though she wasn't confronted directly, sensed the hesitation from his family. She wasn't surprised. She knew she would have to carry her past everywhere she would go. Actions have consequences. She also learned a long time ago that Allah forgives, but people don't.

What was important to her was that she remained kind to herself, despite the outcome of the situation, and remember that things have a way of working out for the best - always.

However, Ibrahim paid little attention to what anyone had to say about her and was ready to stand up for her.

"I know you, they don't," that's what he said to her.

Ibrahim's parents eventually came around as well. Then one fine evening, they were sitting outside in Ahmad's backyard. She was invited to a dinner party. All his sisters were bickering about something, as Malika sat in a corner and watched helplessly. She knew better than to meddle in the Ahmad sisters' affairs. The parentals were also present in one corner of the garden.

Malika found Ibrahim lingering a couple feet away from her. He usually maintained his distance and they were always careful not to be left alone with each other. However, he looked like he wanted to say something. He took the seat opposite hers.

Through the smoke and the haze of his sisters' fight, Ibrahim asked her, "If I asked you to marry me, would you accept it?"

There was no hesitation. No shyness. He was absolutely sure about his feelings.

Malika didn't even blink before saying yes.

Once they were engaged and the dates were finalized, the Ahmads arranged for Malika to meet Ibrahim's grandmother, Nargis Khatun.

Malika was nervous. She knew she had no reason to be, she had Ibrahim's heart and that was all that was needed. However, she also knew that he highly regarded the women in his life. Their opinions were important to him.

Nargis Khatun beamed at Malika the moment she saw her and warmly welcomed her into the family. The elder woman gladly handed her the pearls, finally taking them off her chest after safekeeping the family heirloom for years.

"I can't believe this!" Lily Ahmad cried to Dahlia in confidence. "Malika's a great girl, I know, but she got her approval this easily? Grandma doesn't like anyone, specially women! She has been warning Ibrahim about wenches since he was two!"

Dahlia rolled her eye in response. "You know how. Malika's fair and the woman is as racist as the Brits who enslaved her ancestors."

After Nargis Khatun met the bride-to-be, her disapproving eyes landed on her sons. "Now that you are getting the boy married first you'll have a much harder time finding husbands for the girls," she started. "You need to start looking for them too as soon as possible." Dahlia was unfortunate enough to get stuck in the crossfire. "She's short, average and chooses to cover herself like a nun. Where will you find a husband for her if she's old, on top of it?"

"Don't worry grandma." Dahlia patted her hand reassuringly. "I know Allah has written some fool for me who'll accept me for who I am."

The couple had their wedding on a sunny day in a local mosque. It was a low scale wedding. Ibrahim was adamant on keeping things simple. All Malika cared about was that she had her family and her best friends by her side while she married the love of her life.

They laughed and cried together, and Malika knew that was everything she needed in life.

...
A/N: Epilogue will be posted next week!
Ibrahim is for sure a man written by a woman lol.