Page 43 of First Comes Marriage
‘You don’t have to thank me, Reshma. I’m doing what I should have done all along. And, to be fair, your family make it easy to get along and join in.’
She smiled as she finished her own drink. ‘I’m going to go and wash the sand and salt off me and get ready.’ Her smile didn’t falter and it filled Zafar with a keener sense of pleasure than he’d ever thought such a thing could as Reshma went upstairs.
He needed to clean up too, so it made sense to follow her up, but he stayed where he was, savouring the feeling of success at being in a happier place than he and Reshma had been before. There was a brightness about her that he’d not seen since the early days of their wedding and whereas back then he hadn’t paid it any attention, he now felt like he wanted to see what more he could do to keep that brightness intact. He longed to see more of the joyful, playful side of her nature and if that led to more intimacy between them,then he was more than happy to pave the way for it.
The flickering of desire he’d felt today had been unexpected and perhaps unnerving in its intensity but not unwelcome. Sure, before he would have considered it to be something to push to the back of his mind and focus on other things, but that wasn’t how he felt today. Today, he felt like going in the opposite direction, to see if the flickering could be fanned into something more that satisfied both of them.
It went against what his grandfather had advocated, but he’d spent the past four years following the path his grandfather had chosen for him, and for twenty-six years before that, and while he still believed in some of his grandfather’s teachings, he wasn’t so sure that they worked in every aspect of his life. He’d just been hardwired to believe that.
Maybe if he had allowed his own instincts to guide him, he and Reshma might have been in a different place. Maybe when it came to his marriage, following his grandfather’s edicts hadn’t done him any favours. The moments he’d shared with Reshma proved that, as did his own feelings of contentment and satisfaction.
Of course, he’d always battle the inevitable guilt he carried when it came to his grandfather, just as he had for those three years he’d spent away from him. Sure, he’d believed in his reasons for turning away, still did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty for standing up to his hero. The man who, up until then, he’d always wanted to be exactly like.
Zafar had the feeling that even with his grandfather gone, there was a side that wanted to honour his grandfather’s ideals and another that wanted to stand for his own beliefs and principles. And the thing about such a war was that either way,hewould lose.
18
Reshma
There was a buzz in the air as the events team added finishing touches to the garden for Saleema and Nomaan’s henna ceremony, which was due to start in a matter of minutes.
The space was rectangular and large, with a swinging bench in the middle surrounded by chairs so that everyone could see where the main action was to take place.
The sun was on its descent, so while it was nice and warm, there was no risk of sunburn for anyone and for those seeking shade, there was an abundance of trees around the perimeter of the garden, interspersed with small hedges and boxes and pots of colourful flowers and plants.
A small gangway had been cleared between the chairs leading to the bench where the bride and groom would sit for the ceremony, beyond which there were cushions and blankets on the floor for the more traditional folk music element of the evening.
Reshma ran a keen eye over the floral arrangements, which her aunt had delegated to her, knowing that Reshma enjoyed gardening and had a knack for flower arranging. Everything looked exactly how she wanted it to and satisfied that she’d done a good job, she told the event planner that she was heading outside to join the family.
There was no colour scheme to follow for the henna ceremony, though traditionally greens and yellows were the preferred colour combination for the occasion. Saleema hadn’t wanted that and with the event being outdoors, Reshma had suggested using an array of different coloured flowers so there was a vibrancy about the place which made each and every colour pop in its own right.
Reshma had got ready for the event before coming to check over the arrangements she’d planned with the events manager beforehand. Auntie Ruqayyah had arranged for hair and make-up artists and Reshma had managed to get ready in record time in order to get to the venue earlier and check that everything was as planned. The events team had followed her plans to a T and she couldn’t wait to see what Auntie Ruqayyah and Saleema thought.
‘Hey.’ The word was softly whispered in her ear from behind, making desire roll down her spine and leave a trail of sparks in its wake, much like it had when she’d been dared to sit on his lap.
Reshma turned and found Zafar standing to the side of her near the entrance to the garden, looking fantastic in his straight-cut trousers and long silk kurta. His hair was slightly tousled, probably due to the soft breeze, and his jaw was clean-shaven. He looked so good, Reshma was tempted to touch him, but she held back, cocking her eyebrow at him instead.
He grinned as he flicked the sides of his kurta out and put his hands into his trouser pockets. She noticed that he’d rolled his sleeves up just enough to show off his forearms. What was it about Zafar’s rolled-up sleeves and forearms on display that made her want to keep looking at them?
‘I thought you were going to come later with Daadi?’ She looked beyond him in a bid to get her errant thoughts under control.
‘She’s coming with Auntie Bilqis. I was at a loose end, so I figured I’d come and join you, see if you needed a hand with anything.’ He looked around at the arrangement and then at her, a big smile – dimples and all – on his face. ‘This looks brilliant. You’ve got a magic touch, you know that? Any event you’ve arranged has looked spectacular. The set-up you did for Daadi’s party last year was fantastic and now this.’
Reshma felt warmth blossom in her chest at the words of praise Zafar was showering her with. He’d never been this effusive before, simply giving her a ‘thank you’ or ‘this is nice’ whenever she did anything. Making arrangements for Daadi’s eightieth birthday party had been a chance thing because the event planner Zafar had hired fell ill days before the event and Reshma had volunteered to step in, making changes here and there to make everything more to Daadi’s taste. At the time, Zafar had given her his ‘this is nice’ compliment and left it at that. This was the first time he was acknowledging her work with such high praise and it left her momentarily speechless, so she only said, ‘Thank you.’
‘But you know what?’ He took a step closer and lowered his face until it was mere inches from hers, her heart suddenly racing. ‘It all pales in comparison to how you look. That little Romeo, Haroon 2.0, better keep his distance today.’
Reshma felt heat suffuse her cheeks and Zafar winked as his grin widened while she blushed. She giggled like a teenager at his compliment wrapped in possessiveness. She knew he was joking, but it made her feel tingly on the inside nonetheless.
She was wearing a peach lehenga with a cream blouse. The blouse had a large bow on the back so the stylist hadput her hair up so it could be seen in all its glory. The lehenga had gold print work on it, as did the matching organza dupatta. Peach and cream glass bangles jingled with the slightest movement and her gold and pearl jewellery completed her look.
Zafar took a hold of her hand and held it up as he moved the index finger of his other hand in a circular motion, asking her to twirl.
She did so, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up her throat.
‘This is so silly, Zafar.’
‘No, it’s not. I want to see you properly.’ He twirled her three times, her lehenga flaring out with her movement and brushing against Zafar’s legs. When she stopped spinning, he was standing so close that her hands landed on his shoulders, her breasts brushing against his chest. ‘You look gorgeous.’ His voice was deep and husky, making a pleasurable shiver go through her, which he probably felt because his hands were resting on her waist.
