Misty drops adhere on her palm as she froced her hand against the hot cup of coffee. Stinging vapour felt like she had dipped her hand in boiling water. But the slightest pain was leaving enormous pleasure.
"Alina!"
Her hand was rather harshly pulled away, she subconsciously glanced at the woman sitting beside her, her dark skin glowed under the dusky golden light of tubes.
"Look at your hand! what were you thinking?" She frantically yelled, but Alina was too busy, thinking about her aunt's reaction, if she told her the truth.
"I am sorry," Alina hunched her shoulder, her aunt didn't seem to catch the double meaning in her voice, not yet.
"There is nothing to be sorry." Her aunt sighed, ''Show me your hand," thin ebony fingers cupped her pale palm, "put something on it, it's turning red."
Alina didn't spared a glance at her bruised hand, her eyes scanned the motherly concern on her aunt's face.
"Why didn't you adopt a child?" The question wasn't abrupt, random or unaccepted but it swirling around Alina's mind since guilt started to chock her.
"Why aren't you eating?" Lura scowled, clumsily pushing plate piled with food toward Alina.
"I am on fast." Alina cringed her nose when smelled delicious aroma of backed food.
"Astagafirullah!" Lura pushed own and Alina's plates far away. "Why are you sitting here then."
"I have to talk."
"We can talk where there isn't food." Chair scrapped against tiled floor, Alina and Lura, both stood at once. They began stalking toward lounge, each step enhancing the darkest silence before the drastic storm.
"Why you never adopted a child?" Lura sat down on comfy couch, tugging the birms of her warm coat.
"I never lose hope" she sighed, dark lashes blinked once, twice, "and I got you, didn't I?"
"Do you trust me?" Alina uncomfortably stood, knitting her fingers, her guilt blinded her till the point, the darkness dacayed her.
"What kind of question is it?"
"I married a boy." She wanted to close her eyes, an sharp inhale from her aunt had her building courage, crashing down into nothings.
"Ya Allah" Lura strongly caught the side arm in a dead grip, as if fighting aginst the froce of her words.
"I can explain," Alina desperately pleaded, she knew how pathetic her words would have sounded.
"Is it a joke, a prank, if --"
"I did it to save Hannah" Alina had to say the truth.
"What, Hannah?" Lura stood on her feet, her brows knitted.
"Yes aunt, Hannah is alive," Alina tried to smile, tried to share the flicks of hope, she felt by taking her family's name.
"Alina..." Lura interrupted, but Alina failed to notice the whine in it.
"Elijah said if I marry his son--"
"Does he know you? is he here!" Lura's ebony eyes widen at his name.
"No, he asked me to meet him and - and he said he ha - have Hannah and - and--" she continued her rant, it was the chant she read to herself every night, convinced herself, perhaps a song which kept her wailing, quiet.
"Alina, where is Hannah right now," Lura's voice was growing irritational, she merely was keeping her cools.
"I don't know, but - but I will find out, he said that--" Alina was now looking at her own hands.
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Wanted to be loved (Islamic Story)
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