In Hibaaq's favour the day had ended as swiftly as it began. Even after a whole week had come and gone, she didn't hear a squeak from the eldest of the Muse family.Gladly.
Layla came by the very next day, this time Hibaaq let her in, treasuring her warm solace. Her father had surprised her with the tightest embrace the same night, picking her feet from off the ground and spinning her around till she shook with laughter. Where she thought he would be livid for the way she behaved, he causally joked about it, telling her he was absolutely fine with whatever she decided on. He obviously had his own preconceptions about Abdihakeem. Hibaaq found it hilarious as he tried to discreetly hide his joy from her choice. Ayeeyo Warsam had also stopped berating her for awhile. Hibaaq wasn't sure if it was because of her health declining, and that she was much too pained to carry on with her browbeating. Either way, she gulilty enjoyed the bit of freedom from the daily verbal abuse.
Today was a dismal day, though. The day she had been dreading eventually came, it was time for Ercole to leave. He would be departing that sunny afternoon, and Hibaaq had no idea when she would ever get to see him again, especially after his remaining week had been so futile. He didn't come talk to her after the ordeal, not that day, or the next day after that, and for the whole week onwards. In fact, Hibaaq hadn't laid her eyes on him ever since. She was deeply confused, and hurt beyond anything she could've ever imagined. She rather have him speak stabbing words that not speak to her at all, and yet he never did. He quietly ate his meals in his bedroom, feigning unwell, maybe he was, though Hibaaq bitterly believed it was an effort to avoid her. He did so very well. She was beginning to think he never existed at all, that he was just a made up thing in her mind, a simple concoction of her strange imagination. Until he wasn't.
He was very much real, and she was now watching him tending to the brew like some mornings ago. She suspected a bout of deja vu, but that wasn't it either. He was real, and he was standing right before her. It felt like reality had suddenly crash landed into her. She repelled a silly smile from forming on her face for it was no smiling matter.
"I made this for you," Ercole pushed a cup of spiced tea across the counter.
"Hmph." Hibaaq scoffed. She didn't take the cup, she simply stared at him for a couple of seconds before pivoting to carry on about her morning. Treating it as if he truly was made up. She was turning the corner when his deep sigh reached her ear, and it irked something within her, so much so she had to retrace her steps and glare him down once more. "What really is the matter with you?" She enquired, irritated.
"I didn't realise there was a problem?" He stated, breathing in as he set his cup down on the countertop. He peered out the window for a moment, trying to savour every bit of the country's opulence as the gleaming sun warmed his face through the glass. Hibaaq hadn't the time to admire his charm, not while she was so vexed with him. The air felt saturated in such a vast space, it suffocated her.
"Then why are you acting strange with me?" The saturation of the air slowly turned into a phantom grip on her throat. It was getting harder to speak, to breathe and to stand, but Hibaaq needed answers and she had every intention to receive them.
"I don't know, maybe your betrothed can answer that." He said, his face stoic, his voice cold.
"Unbelievable." Hibaaq huffed, exasperated. "My betrothed as in Abdihakeem, seriously?! The man I vehemently refused?!" She didn't know what to expect with the cause of his sudden frigidness, but it certainly wasn't this. She didn't know whether to feel flattered that he felt some type of way about Abdihakeem's proposal, or infuriated that he couldn't understand why exactly she refused him. "Unbelievable." She repeated, clutching the material at her thighs the way she always did to stop her fingers from shaking. Her nostrils stung with oncoming tears, her eyes gradually watered, but she couldn't allow him to see her cry. She wouldn't give him that luxury again.
YOU ARE READING
Tale In The Red Sand
SpiritualIn the heart of Somalia resided a young woman by the name, Hibaaq Cali. Sheltered and guarded her whole life, Hibaaq had never been through much trouble or had to face the adversity of poverty. To all appearances, her life seemed blessed, comfortabl...