Burn the truth (ENG)

| 16 |

October 2019

"Zara, hurry up! The makeup artist has arrived!"

"I'm coming!"  I called back from the bathroom.  I wrapped a towel around my hair and tied the band of my bathrobe tightly.

I quickly slipped down the hallway to my room, a few yards away.

I closed the door with a quick movement and turned around where I saw Samira talking with the make-up artist.

Samira was wearing a red top with a matching ankle-length skirt.  White heels underfoot and hair loose over her shoulders.

"You look beautiful, Samira," I muttered with admiration.

She looked up at my voice and grinned, shaking her head.  "Thank you, dear. Sit down quickly so the makeup artist can dress you up. Imran will arrive soon."

A smile formed around my lips when I heard his name.  "Okay."  I took a seat on the chair and took the towel off my head.

Samira looked in the mirror one last time before leaving the room quickly at the sound of the doorbell.

The makeup artist quietly began to divide my hair into four sections.

"Selena, right?"  I politely asked the makeup artist.

The girl nodded shyly and began styling my hair strand by strand.

I smiled kindly.  "Nice to meet you. I've heard so many stories about your good work."

Her eyes looked at me enthusiastically.  "My sister always told me if you do something with passion and concentration, it will always be successful."

I nodded in agreement.  "Your sister is absolutely right."

~

"Beautiful," I muttered under my breath as I looked in the mirror.

I hardly recognized the twenty-three-year-old woman in the mirror.  The rhinestone hairpiece embellished her updo.  Diamond pear-shaped halo earrings, a gift from her brother, dangled from her ears.  The beautiful design of a necklace akin to the earrings hung around her neck.

Selena, the qualified beautician, had minimal makeup applied to the bride's face.  Her lips were colored red.  A soft glow highlighted her defined cheekbones.  Natural lashes accentuated her glassy, ​​dark brown eyes.

With my fingers, I carefully ran over the fabric of the snow-white wedding dress.  My eyes looked admiringly at the dress.  Designed to hug my figure in all the right places, the dress fell behind my figure in a chapel train of floral elegance and lace.  Under the dress, white heels were tied around my feet.

He leaned his back against the wall and ran his eyes over my figure. "I like the dress. It accentuates your hips."

My fingers released the fabric abruptly and hung in the air.

Inhale and exhale.

My eyes burned when I saw a video of me belly dancing on stage.

He's bluffing.

Inhale and exhale.

The urge to wipe the small smile off my face and ruin the makeup artist's fine work shot up.

When I saw Selena cleaning up, I blocked my thoughts.

Forget it for now.  Let it go.

Samira walked into the room with Mira in her arms.