Amanda Marries Mustafa

When you started this path, you'd envisioned being closer than this. Closer than the back of a mosque, closer to her than the distance you were presently at. But that wasn't entirely honest. Because you wanted her to be over you too, and proximity didn't lead to that. You wanted conflicting things, and you couldn't blame her for resolving those issues against some of your wants and in favor of others.

All the customs they were going through were ... foreign to you, strange. Even in Dubai, you'd be sequestered away, like a harlot, waiting for rough men to have their way with you. You fidgeted with your hijab. There weren't many here -- Amanda's family, looking exceptionally uncomfortable, and Mustafa's family from abroad, looking on with satisfaction as their son had successfully conquered a white harlot. It was true. And you'd let it all happen, submitting to this path every step of the way. It made you want to vomit. Or was that the terrible demon wracking your body once more?