Love from Mecca to Medina

By S. K. Ali

On the trip of a lifetime, Adam and Zayneb must find their way back to each other in this surprising and romantic sequel to the “bighearted, wildly charming” (Becky Albertalli, New York Times bestselling author) Love from A to Z that’s a “contemplative exploration of faith, love, and the human condition” (Kirkus Reviews, starred review).

Adam and Zayneb. Perfectly matched. Painfully apart.

Adam is in Doha, Qatar, making a map of the Hijra, a historic migration from Mecca to Medina, and worried about where his next paycheck will come from. Zayneb is in Chicago, where school and extracurricular stresses are piling on top of a terrible frenemy situation, making her miserable.

Then a marvel occurs: Adam and Zayneb get the chance to spend Thanksgiving week on the Umrah, a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, in Saudi Arabia. Adam is thrilled; it’s the reboot he needs and an opportunity to pray for a hijra in real life: to migrate to Zayneb in Chicago. Zayneb balks at the trip at first, having envisioned another kind of vacation, but then decides a spiritual reset is calling her name too. And they can’t wait to see each other—surely, this is just what they both need.

But the trip is nothing like what they expect, from the appearance of Adam’s former love interest in their traveling group to the anxiety gripping Zayneb when she’s supposed to be “spiritual.” As one wedge after another drives them apart while they make their way through rites in the holy city, Adam and Zayneb start to wonder: was their meeting just an oddity after all? Or can their love transcend everything else like the greatest marvels of the world?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simon & Schuster
• Release date: Oct 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665916097

S. K. Ali

S. K. Ali is the author of Saints and Misfits, a finalist for the American Library Association’s 2018 William C. Morris Award and the winner of the APALA Honor Award and Middle East Book Honor Award; and Love from A to Z, a Today show Read with Jenna Book Club selection. Both novels were named best YA books of the year by various media including Entertainment Weekly and Kirkus Reviews. She is also the author of Misfit in Love and Love from Mecca to Medina. You can find Sajidah online at SKAliBooks.com and follow her on Instagram @SKAliBooks, TikTok @SKAliBooks, and on Twitter @SajidahWrites.

Book preview

Love from Mecca to Medina: A Novel, by S. K. Ali. Author of Love from A to Z. “A Page-Turning Celebration of Love in All Its Beauty and Complexity. Breezy, Witty, Honest.”. –Sabaa Tahir, New York Times Bestselling Author of All My Rage. Includes a Bonus Adams & Zayneb Story!.

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Love from Mecca to Medina, by S. K. Ali. Salaam Reads. New York | London | Toronto | Sydney | New Delhi.

DEAR READER,

If you’re cracking open Love from Mecca to Medina after having finished Love from A to Z—well-acquainted with the story of how Adam and Zayneb met—then I have a surprise for you!

I present, hands engaged in exaggerated flourishes, a bonus story: The Eid Gift: An Adam and Zayneb Story, in print for the first time!

I wrote and posted this story online during the lockdown of spring 2020 as an Eid gift for all readers, of all backgrounds, who longed for a joyful reunion with Adam and Zayneb.

Little did I know at the time that it would become the perfect segue story for the sequel to Love from A to Z.

For this reason, my team at Simon & Schuster and I decided it would be the best bonus material for the paperback edition of Love from Mecca to Medina—with one clarification: because it is a story bridging the two novels, here it is all the way at the beginning of the book instead of at the end, where such extras often reside. (Let’s call this breaking of rules the artful choice it is!)

I hope you enjoy The Eid Gift before you join Adam and Zayneb’s journey in the sequel to Love from A to Z. But of course, should you choose to skip ahead and plunge right into the novel, please do so.… I just know you’ll come back to The Eid Gift for an extra dose of joy.

With love from me to you,

S. K. Ali

---

PS: Please read the content note prefacing The Eid Gift; it is more mature than my other YA writings to this date, as it focuses on A and Z’s nikah, and I wanted to make sure you’re aware of this in advance. I would also be remiss if I didn’t note that Love from Mecca to Medina is similarly more mature in this regard; I share this in hopes you have a comfortable reading experience.

The Eid Gift: An Adam and Zayneb Story

To all the readers who’ve loved Adam and Zayneb before, this is my Eid gift to you

WHEN THIS TAKES PLACE:

I’M ASSUMING YOU’VE ALL READ Love from A to Z and this is why you’d like to continue reading about Adam and Zayneb! The Eid Gift is a part of the Love from A to Z storyline; it occurs shortly before the epilogue. (If you haven’t read Love from A to Z yet, please consider doing so before reading this story—some of what occurs will not make sense otherwise!)

SOMETHING TO KEEP IN MIND:

WHILE THERE’S NOTHING EXPLICIT IN the story, it is more mature than my previous YA novels—there’s more physical touch here than in Love from A to Z—so I hope everyone exercises awareness of their reading comfort zones.

ADAM

I MISSED HER.

So much.

I’d read somewhere that you shouldn’t have pictures around of the one you missed, the one you wanted to hold (ideally forever, but logically, as these things go, for around ten more years). It wasn’t like images of parents or family, as, yes, those pictures should be around forever.

But a photo of the one you loved and then let go should stay out of sight.

So I looked at her picture one last time.

I needed to. Her face requested to be imprinted into my memory, because, while she was no longer mine, she’d stolen my heart from the moment she first looked up at me and opened her mouth to communicate her wants and dreams, small as they were.

I’d decided I would put the only photo I had professionally printed of her in my shoebox of mementos and seal it up tight. Any digital images I would erase—save one.

The one from when we first met.

But that, too, I would tuck away in an album titled good-byes.

Funnily enough, no tears came as I gazed into her bright eyes one more time. She was beautiful, true, but her beauty wasn’t mine anymore.

Good-bye, Bertha, I whispered before shutting the photo inside the box.

---

Hanna had named her Bertha. I’d wanted to call her Luna, because she was gray, like how you draw the moon when you’re little.

But Hanna had insisted on Bertha because that’s what Mom’s cat had been named. Hanna had pleaded this all the way from Doha, where she lives with Dad, and when I’d picked out the cat from the shelter, I hadn’t seen my little sister for the two months I’d been living in Ottawa, so I agreed to the name quickly.

Apparently, Dad had told Hanna the Mom-and-Bertha story one day. He told me he’d laughed so much when recounting Mom’s outraged surprise on hearing that Dad thought Bertha wasn’t a suitable name for a tiny kitten with quiet, trusting eyes.

Maybe it’s a little old fashioned, but it’s also a sturdy, strong, long-lasting name! Mom had said when they’d found the kitten behind the dumpsters outside the apartment complex they’d lived in as newlyweds in Ottawa. I want her to grow up to be that way!

But Bertha, the first, had only lasted five years, right up until the year before I was born, as she’d had a heart defect.

Bertha, the second, my Bertha, lasted in my life for five months before I had to give her away three weeks ago.

She went to a family that lived in my grandparent’s neighborhood. I didn’t actually know the people that took her in, just that they’d wanted another pet to keep their elderly cat company.

I have to say, it felt good to have Bertha so close to my grandparents. In case I wanted to see her again, I could maybe stop by and look at her.

But maybe that won’t happen. My desire to see Bertha again.

Because, while I loved her, I sure love Zayneb five billion times more.

And in a week, on the day of Eid, Zayneb’s coming to live with me, as my girl wholly.

---

She doesn’t like cats or any animals, so good-bye Bertha and hello the girl who has my entire heart in her hands.

---

(Honestly, I only want her wholly.)

ZAYNEB

I DON’T GET THE STARING-AT-ME-WITH-THEIR-TAILS-WAGGING part. And the going crazy! I said to Stacey as we walked by the dogs. Kept fenced in their own pens, they wouldn’t stop their staring and friskiness once they’d spotted me. That, and the noisy barks. Like, why all the clamor each time I visit? Come on, I’ve been here every day for the past two weeks, guys!

"Oh, you come on, Zayneb. They’re excited! They can’t speak, so it’s their way to say, Look at me! We’re so happy to see you again! Now give us the same attention! Stacey unlocked the door leading to the cat area of the animal shelter. Anyway, I’m glad you’re doing your sensitivity training with cats. They’re more your type, really."

Yup, they keep to their snobby selves. Just the way I like my animals. I walked by the cages of cats all lazily licking themselves or blinking slowly as they contemplated their thoughts, well hidden deep in their furry heads. I stopped by the cages of some of my favorites and meowed at them to say hi. They deliciously ignored me.

I was so, so glad Adam had a cat. Of all the animals my fiancé could have had, Allah had granted him a cat! The animal that interferes the least in the lives of humans.

I mean, I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I could believe it was, because my Adam had a cat, and I was going to be moving in with him at the end of the week, after we did our nikah on Eid, in fact, before—sob—he left for Doha again.

He had a cat, and I wanted to surprise him with the fact that I was okay with his pet. That I’d take care of it when he went back to Qatar.

So every day since I came to Ottawa for the special program in conflict resolution that’s part of my college course in justice and ethics, I took the bus over to the shelter to learn to like cats.

And Adam? He knew nothing about it. It was my Eid gift to him.

I wanted to be a Complete Cat Lady by the time we got hitched.

---

The idea to get nikahfied on Eid had come from Dad.

Mainly because he saw that Adam and I were making it a point to meet at the coffee shop almost every single day, mostly in the evenings after Taraweeh prayers, with all our friends from the mosque (but we had our own table of course! Of course!), and he heard that sometimes these meets of ours would go on for hours and hours, right until the coffee shop closed, in fact.

And one day Dad called me, with Mom on the other phone of their landline.

Zayneb, he said, before clearing his throat. I know we settled on a nikah date already. June tenth, we said.

Which is two months away, Mom said, calling up her habit of pointing out the obvious.

But we were thinking, instead of you coming down for Eid, let us all come to spend Eid in Ottawa with you, Dad said.

Everyone? I sat up on the hard bed on hearing this. I had the worst room in the dorms we’d been assigned at the University of Ottawa, with not much natural light due to north-facing windows, but I swear, when Dad brought up them coming over for Eid, a ray of sunlight pierced the ugly brown-and-teal carpet. Even Mansoor and Sadia?

Yes, they’re looking into taking time off work. And maybe even Hodan, if she can get a leave also. Dad cleared his throat again. And we’re talking to Adam’s dad. He’s going to try to come too. With Hanna.

Really? I stood up in glee. Hanna? I loved Hanna.

And Adam’s dad was so kind and gentle.

What a total Eid surprise!

So, since everyone’s going to be there, we thought it would be a good time for you two, you and Adam, to get your nikah done too. Dad slid it in smooth like that. We’re not doing the reception until later anyway, so there’s no need to wait any longer.

And we’re concerned with how close you two are becoming. Mom let the truth out. Adam’s dad, and us. Even Sadia and Mansoor. We all discussed it, and we think it’s best you get your nikah done as soon as possible. To prevent unforeseen circumstances. Um.

OMG.

Ew.

They all think we’re getting horny for each other.

Adam and I both agreed so fast.

Because yeah.

ADAM

FASTING HEIGHTENS YOUR SENSES. EVERYTHING is sharper, clearer.

I was fortunate that this year I’d been able to fast, to take my medication in the evening and apply the clarity of an empty stomach to finishing the art installation I’d come to Ottawa to work on.

Half my studio apartment had been dedicated to the piece—had been because just yesterday the art gallery sent movers to transport the mass of white wires that I’d spent months shaping into an interpretive vision of a supernova transitioning into the order and precision of sacred Islamic geometry. And then it all ended with wire becoming verses in Arabic. Surah 24, verse 35:

The example of His light is like a niche within which is a lamp,

The lamp is within glass, the glass shining like a radiant star,

Lit from a blessed tree,

An olive tree that is neither of the east nor of the west,

Whose oil would give light of itself even though untouched by fire.

Light upon light!

All my work this past year had been on the topic of light, and I’d been fortunate to show my pieces in Istanbul, Beirut, and Dubai, in addition to Doha. When the head of an Ottawa gallery had seen my show in Dubai and asked me to do a special installation here in the series, I’d jumped at the chance.

Because Zayneb.

She’d told me back in September that one of her courses at Northwestern ended in a month-long workshop in Ottawa in April, and how she was going to take it to explore my hometown. When I told her that I’d be there with her, she muted herself and covered the camera on her laptop because she was ugly crying, and you’re not ready for that yet, Adam.

I thought I’d be staying with my grandparents, but they’d rented their place out while they spent a few months in Finland, so I ended up getting a temporary rental.

---

And now it was time to fix this place up. Get it ready for the weekend.

After we got nikahed, Zayneb was going to spend a week with me before the apartment lease ran out and she went back to Chicago and I went back to Doha, where I had another art contract to finish.

I scrubbed and mopped and wiped and arranged the few things in the cupboards and on the counters neatly and precisely, and then I turned to the space emptied of my artwork.

That was where I was moving the bed—back to where it had been, in the full natural light of a corner of tall windows.

Right now the bed was crammed into the space beside the closet, so crammed that I couldn’t even open the closet doors, and so I kept all my clothes in my luggage.

Luckily, the floor was hardwood and the bed was light, so it wasn’t too much effort to move it into place. Then I redid it with freshly laundered sheets, and it was all set.

I lay on it for a moment and thought about her.

---

The simplicity of her.

How she’d been against getting a hotel room for our first night. How, during our discussion at the coffee shop about her dad’s nikah idea, she’d said, Adam! We want to explore the world together! So let’s put hotel money into our world fund?

But what about special? Don’t you want special?

I got special, she said, sipping tea from her giant refillable mug. She raised her eyebrows high and looked at me. He’s sitting right across from me.

I’m gonna make dua you always think that. I leaned back and raised my own eyebrows at her. Because one day you might not think so.

On that day, please find me the best therapy. Please.

I laughed and looked at her, and then that thing happened.

Again and again it had happened lately, more and more.

It was like she was the best cake in all the land, and I could only look but not have any of it.

---

I just wanted her. And so, one day, I kind of told her.

How fasting was the best at this time, but this seeing her every day after we’d decided to do the nikah was hard. That, and, with the last ten nights of Ramadan starting, the holiest nights, I wanted to concentrate on ibadat more.

And so we stopped seeing each other last week, just saying salaam when we saw each other after Taraweeh prayers at the mosque.

We stopped being around each other when all these things were happening inside.

---

But still, the truth was the want didn’t stop.

Two more days.

ZAYNEB

SO, YOU KNOW WHAT HE said? That it was like seeing cake and not being able to have any! I looked around. It was just me and her, but still, I leaned closer and whispered. If you ask me, that’s kind of explicit? Like, you know, the whole eating thing?

She looked at me without responding, just moving those eyes wider and smaller like she did when she was really listening. So I went on. Honestly, I was shocked. But then when I looked at him, he didn’t even flinch or make a weird face, so I’m thinking he’s so innocent, maybe due to living in Doha all this time and not watching much TV and stuff, that he doesn’t know he’s being kind of crass, you know?

She purred in response while squeezing her eyes shut. I knew from my cat guidebook that this was an excellent thing—that she really liked me.

I thought I would tell Stacey I was ready for her to open the cage and do the thing where she put a cat I choose to reduce my fear with into my lap for the first time.

I thought I could pet her.

I’d already done so with one finger, gently, through the bars of the cage, and she’d been so nice about it.

Like, I’d been scared when she sniffed it—afraid she was going take a bite, too—but she’d just done a tiny sniff and turned so I could touch the side of her neck.

This cat here was gentle and kind and, I believed, slightly interested in me, too. Whenever I came in and said hello to the others, she’d come to the front of her cage and settle to wait for me to get to her.

I always got to her last because we needed a lot of time together.

She was the one I told my secrets to.

---

Like what happened last week, the day before Adam and I decided to stop seeing each other.

We were sitting there having our Book Club! discussion. (We had topics sometimes for our discussions. Like I’d just yell out, Okay, Iron Chef!—which was when we’d say what dish we would make with the three challenging ingredients we listed for each other—or Shipwreck!—which was a topic Adam came up with to ask me how I’d fix something if I was on an island by myself, though I believe he brought up this topic whenever he wanted to laugh at all the ways I’d do things. Like what’s wrong with using a coconut to hammer a hammock canopy into place? Why would he assume I wouldn’t get shipwrecked with a hammock AND a canopy?)

Book Club! was about books we shared with each other.

Last week’s topic was about a book he’d given me called The Five Love Languages, which I’d finally read.

So, what are yours? I asked him. Your love languages?

"You’re supposed to observe your partner and come to a conclusion about their languages. He took a sip from his refillable coffee mug and raised his eyebrows at me. (One of our mutual love languages was eyebrow movements—we communicated a lot with our brows.) You’re not supposed to ask outright, Z."

Then, what’s mine?

Easy. First one: quality time. Second: acts of service. That’s what you love to do and get.

Wow, you’re good. I lifted and lowered my eyebrows in a series of you-are-the-best-I’m-impressed communications. Okay, so now let me assess your love languages.

I tilted my head and thought hard about Adam. Words of affirmation. That’s one for sure. And quality time. Because you love being around me!

That’s true, but… hm… maybe the words-of-affirmation one is not the strongest. He lowered his mug. And lowered his gaze into it.

Then what? Not gifts, because, yes, you like making gifts for people but not necessarily receiving them, and when you make stuff, you’re actually spending quality time for that person. And I know it’s not acts of service, because those don’t impress you much. Like when I wipe the ring at the bottom of your coffee mug every single day and you don’t even notice, I said, shaking my head at him.

His eyes were still down as he took the lid off his mug, something he always did when he neared the last bits of coffee.

OMG, was he turning slightly red?

Oh, I said. Got it. It’s the fifth love language.

He looked at me right then and said it plainly. Yeah. Physical touch. That’s big for me.

---

And that’s when something happened inside me, I whispered to the cat.

Maybe I should have called her my cat.

I felt this squeeze and turn, and I… I looked around again to make sure all the other cats were preoccupied. They were, but I shrank my voice into an even tinier whisper. I wanted him right then and there.

My cat looked at me—but she wasn’t appalled. Just squeezed her eyes and purred some more.

It’s natural. A part of life. For some. To want. To be.

Two becoming one.

That’s what she told me with her brows, furry and kind.

---

I told Stacey I was ready for my cat. And then I spent the whole evening with her until it was almost Maghrib, and then I left for the iftar at the mosque.

Tomorrow Mom; Dad; my siblings, Sadia and Mansoor; and my sister-in-law, Hodan, would get here for the last day of Ramadan.

And then it would be Eid.

And I was getting the best Eid gift in the world: Adam.

ADAM

"ADAM! WERE YOU SHOCKED SHOCKED? Hanna was a flutter of energy as we walked to the car I’d rented to pick her and Dad up from the airport. SURPRISE and we’re here! All the way from Doha!"

I was happy shocked, I said, opening the car trunk for Dad to hoist their luggage in.

I’d known that Dad was trying to get reasonably priced flights from Doha to be here for the nikah, but he hadn’t told Hanna about it, in case it didn’t work out. So she’d been the one for whom it was a real surprise.

Though she was thirteen, she hadn’t lost her excitable nature that some people grew out of in their tweens.

I loved that about her. How she observed everything in wonder and how she decided what she liked or didn’t like right away based on her well-developed sense of ethics and ideas of fairness. Then she stood by those ideals through thick and thin.

She was a big animal rights activist and had started a club at school that grew its focus from the city of Doha to the entire Gulf region. Now, from the back of the car, she told me about the letters they’d written to the emirs and how one of them had responded.

Her chatter only ceased whenever Dad slowed the car and told her to look out. He’d wanted to drive so that he could point out places to Hanna, especially places important to him and Mom.

Though she’d passed away when I was nine, Mom was always with us.

Always would be.

Even at the nikah tomorrow—because right when I was done repeating the words after the imam, I was going to make dua for her.

---

We drove to my grandparents’ neighborhood to see their house.

Their house had been our house a long time ago.

Before Hanna had been born, before we’d moved to Doha, I lived in it for the first seven years of my life.

Hanna had been inside many times as we always stayed with my grandparents when we visited Ottawa, but right now, with the new tenants, we couldn’t go in, of course. So she requested to get out and walk around the property.

She and I did while Dad stayed in the car to call the hotel to fix a mix-up with their reservation.

Look what Grandma did with the garden! Hanna pointed at the many tulips just about to bud. Those weren’t there last year!

They were, but we always get here in July, so they’re already done blooming. I glanced up ahead, and something about the couple crossing the street reminded me of the people I’d given Bertha to.

Maybe we could go see her now. Hey, you want to see Bertha?

Yeah! Dad said we’re going to go to your apartment before we go to the hotel! Hanna stood on her tiptoes. Can I give her treats? So that she likes me right away?

Uh-oh.

Oops.

Did I really forget to tell Hanna I gave Bertha away?

Yes, because we’d reduced our talking due to Ramadan. And I’d given Bertha away three weeks ago.

Okay, so this is where I tell you a hard truth, I began.

Am I going to like this hard truth? She stopped bobbing up and down on her toes.

No, but that’s what hard truths are like.

"Adam, but it’s Eid tomorrow. Don’t tell me hard truths now."

Let’s take a walk over this way. I started to cross the street, and Hanna followed me. You know how Zayneb’s coming to live with me?

Yeah, after you guys get a nikah, Hanna said. Dad told me all about how it’s going to happen.

Remember how she’s scared of animals?

Hanna slowed her walking. Oh. What does that mean?

It means I gave Bertha away to a loving home. A really loving, kind home.

Hanna stopped walking.

I waited. And the loving home is right there at the corner. And they’re so nice, they said we can come by and see Bertha whenever we want.

Did Zayneb ask you to give her away? Hanna began walking again.

No, not at all. I leaned in to Hanna. She doesn’t even know I did it. It’s like a surprise I’m doing for her.

But maybe you didn’t need to do it. Hanna’s face showed she was trying hard not to be upset. Maybe she would have liked Bertha.

Hanna, I couldn’t make it hard for her to stay with me. It’s part of being married. Compromising.

Is she compromising too? Hanna asked as we neared the door.

Life gives you turns to. I paused and faced her on the porch. And now you get to meet Bertha.

---

The man at the door told us something that made Hanna’s face crumple and my heart sink.

I’m so sorry. Bertha didn’t work out with our elderly cat. He was inconsolable with a new family member, so we had to give her away.

---

Like a butterfly closing its wings for a rest, the flutter of energy left Hanna immediately.

I felt it too.

ZAYNEB

THERE WAS NO WAY I was bringing everyone to see my ugly dorms, so last week I’d been so happy to hear that Mom and Dad had booked a room for me and Sadia to share.

When they arrived, I was all packed for them and for the weekend. With Adam.

And then I was going to come back to the dorm with him to pack up all my stuff.

After spending time talking with everyone in the two-bedroom suite Mom and Dad were sharing with Mansoor and Hodan, and going through the clothes Mom and Sadia had picked out for me to select an outfit from to wear on Eid (which would then be my official nikah clothes too!), Sadia and I retreated to our room.

I had to admit, I was happy Sadia’s husband Jamil hadn’t been able to come due to work travel.

Now I get my sister all to myself.

We’d just changed into pajamas and settled into our beds when my sister said something that made me wish I was back in my dorm room. Mom and I didn’t show you all the clothes we bought for you. We also went lingerie shopping!

I lay down and lifted the blanket right above my face.

What? From the sounds, I could tell she’d sprung out of her bed. Oh my God, Zayneb. Are you really that shy?

I kept my blanket on top of me. "Sadia. You’re my older sister. And you just told me that you and Mom, my mother, went shopping for skimpy clothes, maybe all the while imagining me in said skimpy clothes, to be with my dude."

So? You know it would have happened with all your friends if this had been back home. A bridal shower. Where they bring you lingerie.

That’s my friends.

I would have been there.

Yeah, but something feels off here right now.

Take that blanket off. I want you to see them.

I sighed and drew it down.

Is this the reason they got me into a hotel room with

Reviews for Love from Mecca to Medina

[Madiha Siddiqui · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was the most perfect book I've ever read! ?✨