Kazim stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his navy-blue tie for what must've been the fifteenth time. It matched his pale-blue shirt and charcoal-grey blazer — an ensemble carefully chosen the night before. He didn't usually dress like this unless there was an important client meeting, but today wasn't about business. Today was far more personal.
He leaned in, frowned, and slicked back a stray strand of hair that refused to cooperate. He let out a deep breath.
From behind, his sister Mahira peeked in through the half-open door. "Still fixing your tie? At this rate, you'll propose to her in 2040."
Kazim didn't even flinch. "I want to look decent. It's a big day."
"It's not an interview, bhai," Mahveen chimed in as she entered with a steaming cup of chai. "Though honestly, you look like you're applying to be her husband through LinkedIn."
"It's not a bad idea," Mahira added. "'Kazim Aziz, 23, Software Engineer. Special skills: making tea, fixing Wi-Fi, and catching feelings since tenth grade.'"
Kazim chuckled despite himself. His sisters' teasing was relentless, but it kept him grounded.
Their mother, Marwa, appeared behind them, shooing the girls away. "Let him breathe, you two. Kazim, beta, have some water. You're looking pale."
He took the glass and drank, grateful for the moment of silence. His heart thudded beneath his shirt.
"You still haven't told us what you'll say," Marwa said gently.
"I don't know yet. I just… want to be honest."
She touched his cheek. "You've waited for years. Just be yourself. That's all she'll need."
He nodded. "Make dua for me."
"Always."
As he stepped out of the house and into the bright Sunday morning, Kazim felt like he was walking into a new chapter of life. No more waiting. No more hiding feelings. He wasn't a nervous schoolboy anymore. He was a man with a job, responsibilities, and a heart full of quiet hope.
---
The walk from the car to Mariam's front gate felt longer than it should have. His palms were sweating, despite the cool breeze. He paused at the gate, took a deep breath, and rang the bell.
A few moments later, the gate creaked open.
There she was.
Mariam.
Wearing a soft pink kurta and a light grey hijab, she looked just like he remembered — calm, graceful, and effortlessly composed. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
"Kazim?"
He offered a small smile. "Hi, Mariam."
There was a long pause. The kind that stretched between two people who once shared a thousand silent glances but no words.
"What are you doing here?"
He held up the small velvet box in his hand — his mother's engagement ring. "I came to ask for your hand in marriage."
She blinked, stunned. "You what?"
"I know it's sudden," he said quickly. "But I've been meaning to do this for a long time. I just wasn't ready before. I wanted to be someone worth marrying. Now, I have a stable job, my own apartment, and… I still think about you. Every day."
Before she could respond, a voice came from inside.
"Mariam, who's at the door?"
Shoeb, her father, appeared in the hallway behind her, adjusting his reading glasses. His eyes narrowed when he saw Kazim.
"Is that… you? Kazim?"
Kazim straightened up. "Yes, sir. Salaam Alaikum."
"Walaikum Assalam. You're here… with a proposal?"
"Yes, sir. If you'll allow me."
Shoeb raised an eyebrow. "Should I come back later, or are you proposing to my daughter on my doorstep?"
Kazim's ears turned red. "I… thought it would be better than texting."
Mariam glanced at her father, then stepped aside. "Come in."
---
The living room was quiet as Marwa and Shoeb sat down across from Kazim. Mariam sat slightly to the side, her hands folded in her lap, eyes flicking between him and the floor.
Sabina, Mariam's mother, arrived with a tray of tea and biscuits. She offered Kazim a warm smile as she poured the tea.
"It's been a long time since we've seen you," she said.
"Yes, aunty. I'm sorry for not staying in touch."
Shoeb stirred his tea slowly. "So. Why now?"
Kazim cleared his throat. "I've liked Mariam since we were in school. But I didn't want to speak until I was in a place to offer something meaningful. I've finished my degree, started my career, and now I'm ready to… settle down."
Sabina gave a knowing look to her husband. Shoeb leaned back. "And you're sure this isn't impulsive?"
Kazim nodded. "I've thought about it for years. I've prayed about it."
Mariam finally looked up. Her eyes met his. For a moment, the world stilled.
Shoeb looked at his daughter. "Mariam? What do you think?"
She swallowed. "I'd like to speak with him privately. If that's okay."
Sabina smiled. "Of course. We'll give you two a few minutes."
As her parents stepped out, Kazim turned to Mariam, heart pounding.
"I didn't want to surprise you like this," he said softly. "But I've held this in for so long. I didn't know if you'd ever feel the same, but I had to try."
She stared at him, stunned. "Kazim… I don't even know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything now. Just… know that I mean it. And whatever your decision, I'll respect it."
There was silence. Then she whispered, "You really didn't knock."
He smiled nervously. "Was I supposed to?"
She shook her head, laughing softly. "No. I think I like it this way."
---
Back home, Marwa paced in the living room.
"It's been almost an hour! What's taking so long?"
"Maybe she said yes and they're planning the wedding already," Mahira offered.
"Or maybe she threw the ring back and slammed the door," Mahveen added, earning a scowl from her mother.
Just then, the front gate opened. Kazim walked in slowly, looking thoughtful.
Everyone turned.
"Well?" Marwa asked, hands on her hips.
Kazim smiled gently. "She didn't say no."
His sisters cheered.
Marwa raised her hands in dua. "Ya Allah, please make it easy."
And so it began — not with fireworks or fairy tales, but with a quiet proposal, a hopeful heart, and a cup of tea.