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Amie merely smiled, momentarily unable to speak.

As it turned out, the “business” Malik had had to take care of the other day was actually booking a large venue and sending out a rush of invitations to dignitaries, friends, and close associates of his family. He’d also managed to book a catering service from a restaurant Amie had loved during her stay in the Middle East. She was in shock when he revealed his plans to her, and couldn’t believe he’d already taken the liberty of making the plans without even consulting her.

Still, she grinned to his family and talked with feigned girlish glee about the venue, the dress, the ceremony, and—as per Malik’s instructions—how they would be having another ceremony back in Chicago for their American friends and her family.

“We still have to meet your family!” Sadira insisted; her eyes welling up with tears. “Please, make it so. You must come back with them, all expenses paid, of course.”

“Of course,” Amie said through half-gritted teeth, shooting Malik a fierce look.

“We spoke with them last night over the phone,” Malik lied confidently. “They both gave their blessing and can’t wait to meet you.”

“We can’t either,” Mahumet said with a laugh.

As Malik’s parents explained how traditional wedding celebrations in Rabayat would last a week or more, depending on the family’s finances, Amie couldn’t help but wonder how the bride didn’t end up with the record of “Worst Hangover Ever” after a full week of partying.

The festivities, Sadira explained, would begin with a small group of friends and family, and then eventually the entire party would arrive to celebrate with the happy couple. Hundreds of guests, she insisted. Hundreds.

Amie didn’t even know a hundred people.

At the wedding, there would be a weeklong feast, complete with henna painting, music, and storytelling. Zafina informed Amie that on one of the days leading up to the ceremony, all of the men in the bridal party would attend a bathhouse and endure an intense cleaning ritual that involved slick shaving and singing.

Hearing this, Amie’s eyes went wide, but she resisted the urge to tell Zafina what men in America did the night before the wedding: strippers and beer. Somehow a clean shave and a couple of frat-house jokes seemed much more appealing.

Still, with the abrupt timing, Sadira said this would have to be a compacted version of a traditional ceremony, and she hoped Amie would still find joy in her smaller wedding. She said there would still be a procession of cars to celebrate, as well as fireworks later in the evening, but everything else would need to be cut down exponentially.

For his part, Malik’s usually curt father was all smiles and welcoming embraces tonight, giving Malik sound, fatherly advice on how to be a good husband and to lead his household with dignity. In fact, the whole family seemed elated by the spontaneously-booked wedding. Even Zafina sat back in her chair with a broad grin on her face, as though she couldn’t help but be infected by the joyous excitement in the air.

True to Malik’s fears, both of his parents made subtle digs about his former life as a man about town. His father teased that there would be no more women in Malik’s life, unless he wanted to suffer the wrath of an angry wife.

“When she’s not happy,” Mahumet laughed heartily. “Nobody’s happy! So you do your best to be a good man.”

The dinner went on as most of their other social gatherings did: light and airy with the overwhelming ambiance of family, and of course, amazing food. This time, Amie didn’t particularly care about making a good impression, but still, she stuck to her contract, acting every inch the refined and excited bride-to-be.

The only part of the evening that puzzled Amie was Zafina’s reaction. Aside from a brief “congratulations”, the sister said very little to either of them. It was surprisingly unlike her to be so fuss-free.

Since the ‘wedding’ was to take place the following morning, the entire family was staying at Malik’s palace so they could get ready together.

Later, as the happy couple were heading to their respective rooms, Zafina finally made her strike.


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