You didn't know why Mohammed wanted to marry you. What he saw in the sickly girl resting on her bed, looking as rough as ever, you didn't know. You were chronically sick as a child and that drove away many of your possible suitors. So you were puzzled why he, seeing you on one of your worst days, looked at you and said he'd marry you.

He is always very nice to you. He's handsome, many other prettier, healthier women come to him to flirt with him, but he ignores them. He gives you gifts, looks after you when you have a particularly bad day and takes you out to town when you have a good day. You feel bad, you think he deserves someone better.

Mohammed couldn't agree with that, he loved you. You reminded him of his sister. She was in your shoes a few years ago, no guy wanted to marry her and she passed the year prior. She always wanted to have her own love story, but she never got it. If Mohammed couldn't help her have a happy ending like that, then he'd at least do it for you.

Mohammed had taken you out to town today, buying everything you so much as glanced at. You sat at a little cafe, eating some sweets.

"Here's what you ordered." Mohammed set it down in front of you and pecked your cheek, choosing to sit next to you rather than across from you.