Their Fate

chapter 35

Only a couple more chapters are left  :|

Hairah

The preparations went well for tonight's feast. All this while, I am sure Ibrahim must have noticed my moodiness. Like other days, I am not trying to make conversations with him. I feel guilty though. My rational side is angry with me for behaving like shit.

It's not his fault, that he is all happy in that photograph. It was his nikkah. He wasn't aware of his fate at that time. But, seeing how happy he was with her and he doesn't even have a smile on our nikkah, pangs my heart.

It's stupid, I know. I am the worst.

The feelings I have developed for him are clawing my insides to converse with him. The glances he is giving me, fuel the guilt in me. Maybe I am being too selfish.

Mature up, Hairah!

Now that I know who Wafa is, or should I say, Jasmine? I wanted to know what happened between them, the truth.

I can't believe Jasmine is Wafa. The image of her drinking champagne that night at my cousin Sana's house pops up every single second. The way they kept talking about those models' abs. And some terrible things Sanjana told me about them, keep giving me this uneasiness.

I'm not judging Wafa. It's just that, what she did was out of our Islamic culture. Ibrahim is pious and God-fearing. And she is the antonym. I feel disastrous. The mixed feeling of love, uneasiness, jealousy everything is killing me. I hate this feeling.

But these reasons, these feelings, don't give me the right to give Ibrahim a cold shoulder. He is already gone through something I'm not aware of, I can't make it worse.

I look at Ibrahim who is sitting on the couch, resting his head on the headrest, his eyes closed. He looks tired. Sudden guilt nips my heart. Allah! Why did I do that?

Closing the pot with a lid, I make my way toward them. Yes, Ali is rolling on the couch, spreading his legs on Ibrahim's lap. "Ibrahim?" No response. I look at the clock for the time, half past five. He usually doesn't nap at this time of the day. "Ibrahim?" I call a little louder this time.

"Hmm?" He sits up straight a little abruptly. Did I startle him? "Sorry, I didn't know when I fell asleep." He gave me an awkward smile.

"Do you want something to eat, a snack or something?" I ask giving my best smile.

His body relaxes and he leans back on the couch. "No, thanks." But his face shows something. So, I sit a few inches away from him on the couch—–ready to open the shutter of my vocals.

"What do you think I should wear today?" I mentally slap myself. Why did I ask that? That was an out of question. And It's not like I always ask him to choose my dresses. And all my suspicions came to a confirmation when I see him raise his eyebrow.

"Your wedding dress," He shakes his head and chuckles. Allah! Bury me inside the earth this instant. "Hee..." A very sheepish smile decorates my face.

"I thought you got tired of making me engage in a conversation. Guess it's wrong," He said, the smile never leaving his face. A flood of relief drowns me in it when I see Ibrahim all smiling. Was he truly affected by my silence?

I quickly jump back to my old self. "Yes, you are wrong. Do you wanna me to get you water before we begin?" I ask with an innocent face.

He ignores me and tickles Ali instead. Okay, that doesn't anger me. I still glare at his face not taking my eyes off him. His attention is fully on Ali, who is laughing hard. Ugh, I give in. It's too much to ignore the fact that they are laughing.