HER BROKEN HUSBAND

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"There were still too many questions left unanswered for Hisham and as for Isma, there were still too many tables left unturned!"- Amalk807.

A shoe!

Followed by another shoe!

Followed by a pillow!

Followed by a hairbrush!

Almost followed by a lampshade!

All these were very much dramatically flung against the wall with only one thing continuously coursing through Isma's mind...

Just.

Why?

Couldn't.

The.

Interview.

Have.

Been.

Normal.

N...O...R...M...A...L.

Was that something too much to ask for?

Blood rushed to her cheeks and she embarrassedly buried her face in her hands, her mind getting fully clouded with thoughts of only one person...

HISHAM HOSSEINI.

Why hadn't he just said who he really was right from the very beginning?

Why had he chosen to play along?

Why was he so annoying yet not so annoying?

Why was he just so...?

Aargh!

Okay, it was official...

'She didn't really like him!'

With her beautiful face now utterly crimson and in a desperate bid to prevent herself from dying due to embarrassment, she hopelessly tried to mimic his very much deep, very much masculine voice...

"Excuse me, who gave you permission to walk right in?"

"Interviewing time is over!"

"Don't be late ever again!"

"I wasn't day dreaming!"

"Yes, SSIIIRRR!"

A very much adorable laugh escaped her lips upon of course miserably failing but that still didn't stop her from mimicking him further and further and just when she was about to fling another pillow against the wall to try curb her immense embarrassment, a gentle knock sounded on the door causing her to fling the pillow at the door instead.

"If it's Hafsa or Husna, I swear I am not in. Also, NO you cannot borrow or use any of my things. You're welcome!"

Not knowing why but deep down, all she really wanted was to be left all alone with her current thoughts and much foreign feelings and when the door still began to open regardless, she quickly grabbed one of her old sneakers from the floor, low key hoping that it was one of her siblings so that she could actually, perfectly aim it at them and that too without any guilt, only for her to quickly throw the shoe behind her back the very second her mother entered the room.

The first thing Maryam did upon entering was to slowly look around her eldest daughter's much disoriented room, a huge frown forming on her face that matched her immense disapproval and when her eyes finally came to settle on her Isma, the frown was immediately replaced with a knowing smile and the very first thing she ended up asking was...