Burn the truth (ENG)

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Seeing the crowded dining table with dirty plates and cups, I decided to give Samira a hand.

I took the dirty plates, cutlery and cups to the kitchen by number and piled them up in the sink.

I cleaned the dining table with a wet cloth and wiped all the crumbs off the floor before I started cleaning up in the kitchen.

I filled all the leftover food into containers and stacked them neatly in the fridge.

I folded up the sleeves of my white dress and pressed the soap button with the sponge. I left the tap water open and started washing everything.

I had just finished washing a glass plate when Imran walked in without warning. "Zara. It's about time we started talking about-"

Startled, I dropped the plate and the glass shattered into thousands of pieces in the sink.

"Is everything all right there?" Faid shouted anxiously from the living room.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about!" I quickly called back and began to carefully clean up the shards of glass.

"Zara, be careful!" Imran hissed concerned and pulled my hand towards him before trying to take out the shard of glass.

I withdrew my hand, feeling a painful sting through my palm.

"Sorry," he muttered softly and grabbed my hand again with his palms.

A warm feeling crept up at the sight of how carefully he tried to remove the small shard of glass from my palm.

Tingling spread all over my body at the feeling of his warm fingertips. I miss you.

I held my breath as I felt tears coming. No, Zara. Not now.

Do not Cry. Do not Cry. Do not Cry.

He pulled a glittering shard that was now covered in blood from my skin and threw it straight into the trash.

"Thank you," I muttered softly and pressed a cloth over the wound.

Samira hurried our way with concern. "What happened?"

"I accidentally dropped one of your plates," I muttered and looked at Imran.

"Show me your wound." She pulled my hand towards her and looked at it with concentration. "The shard has caused a big wound. I still have an ointment for you somewhere in my closet. Will you come with me?"

"But me and Zara need to ta-" Imran started, but I soon cut him off. "Yes please, Samira."

~

She took a yellow tube from a cupboard and sat on the bed opposite me. "Oh Zara!" Samira muttered at the sight of the wound.

She unscrewed the cap and pressed the center of the tube, causing the contents to fly up.

I swallowed a chunk and looked at Samira. "Imran, wants to speak to me as you know." I fiddled with the bottom of my dress. "I-I don't know what to do."

Samira spread the ointment carefully over the wound. "Zara, I invited him today for a reason. You need to talk about the current situation. After all, it's about your future."

I bit my lip sadly. "I-I'm not ready, Samira."

Samira rolled her eyes. "If you keep saying that, you'll never be ready. Be realistic, Zara. He's been waiting for you for a year. You're engaged. He misses you." She wrapped bandages around my hand and fastened it with a flap.

I miss him too.

"But what if he gives up?" I asked carefully.

"Is that why you are avoiding him? Because you think he wants to break off the engagement?" asked Samira in surprise. I nodded. "Oh Zara." She held my hand reassuringly. "Imran loves you dearly. It shows in his eyes. When you were gone he turned the whole city upside down looking for you. Just talk to him." She wiped a tear from my cheek. "Should he give up anyway, than he wasn't meant for you."