The Ramadan Romance
"Every Ramadan, Hira helps organize iftar at her mosque. This year, volunteer coordinator Zain keeps finding excuses to work alongside her—and she's not complaining."
The Ramadan Romance
"You're on dates duty again."
Hira looked at the assignment sheet. For the fifth iftar in a row, she'd been paired with Zain for the same task.
"Strange coincidence," she said dryly.
"Careful planning." He didn't pretend otherwise. "It was this or join the washing-up rota to be near you."
"You're shameless."
"I'm strategic. Different thing."
They worked together through the blessed month—setting up, serving, cleaning. The hunger of fasting paled next to the hunger of wanting.
"Why me?" Hira asked during a quiet moment.
"Because you see service as worship, not obligation." He met her eyes. "Because you're beautiful when you're focused. Because I've been trying to find the courage to ask you out since last Ramadan."
"A whole year?"
"I'm patient." He smiled. "Also terrified. Mostly terrified."
He asked her father's permission before asking her. Traditional, proper, exactly as it should be.
"Dinner," Zain said afterward. "After Eid. Somewhere proper."
"And before Eid?"
"We break fast together. Pray together. Wait together." His hand found hers. "Some things are worth doing right."
After Eid, after the engagement, after everything was halal—they finally came together.
"I've waited so long," Zain admitted, kissing her.
"We both have." She pulled him closer. "No more waiting."
He made love to her with the patience he'd cultivated all Ramadan—slow, devoted, savoring every moment.
"Meri jaan," he breathed. "Worth every iftar."
"Worth every fast."
"Our kids will hear this story," Hira said afterward.
"They'll think it's boring. 'You met at mosque?'"
"They'll think it's beautiful. Real. Right." She kissed him. "Like us."
Every Ramadan, they volunteered together—first as a couple, then as a family.
Best dates either of them ever distributed.