Changing His Ways

Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER | SEVENTEEN | UMAYMAH | POV

I watched him from where I was on the bed: curled up with a pillow and his chest moving up and down to indicate that he was in fact sleeping. Sighing I began running my temples because it had now been two weeks since we had any sort of proper conversation.

Shoaib always began the day with praying much to my surprise but then continued to ignore my futile attempts to even apologise to him. It was a weird feeling though, no matter how much I tried I just didn't want to give up.

He had every right to be mad at me and if the situation was flipped to me then there's no doubt our reactions would be the same.

"Are you going to carry on staring at me?" His voice was so sudden that a squeal left my mouth and the pillow I was holding on to was now clenched at my chest, trying to slow down the harsh heartbeats.

I slowly turned my head towards his figure and made out the amused look on his face as if he was trying not to laugh at me. It had been weeks since I had gotten any sort of reaction out of him, and this was enough to bring a smile to my face.

"I was not staring. I was just, erm..." I couldn't think of a good enough reason to hide the fact that I was in fact staring at him sleeping.

The look on his face made it clear that I hadn't persuaded him at all. In fact I wouldn't believe what I had just said either, considering I had no excuse.

Rolling his eyes he began to turn away from before I quickly pulled his arm so that he could face me again. This time it was him who was startled but didn't have quite the same reaction as me; his eyes went wide for a second before composing himself and releasing my grip on him.

"Is something wrong?" He questioned, looking me expectantly for an answer.

I wanted to scream out everything about our situation was wrong: how he wouldn't talk to me and make me feel guilty for weeks about something so little that it feels absurd to think it even happened.

"I just want to go back to the way things were." I whispered softly.

I was being bold at the moment by reaching down and placing my head on his moving chest. The fact that he didn't push me away was enough confirmation to me make stay still as we were now.

"It feels stressful doesn't it? To think that everything you do can make things worse and you have to work so hard to make it right? It's what you do to me," he paused and I felt my heart beating faster, trying to digest exactly what he was saying to me. "You make me want to become a better person and I just want to have my rights as your husband, to see your hair. I feel like I'll never be good enough and even with the progress I'm making you'll never allow me to see it."

His words hit me. He wasn't angry at me - he was simply teaching me a lesson to portray what he goes through every time I deprive him of his rights. Was I really being too harsh on him?

Sitting up on the bed I crossed my legs and looked at him observingly. He too watched me, wanting what I was going to do or say next.

"Is it really that bad?"

"It just feels like I live with a stranger rather than my wife." He shrugged.

Getting up from the bed, I began to turn the lights on to our room since the amount of light was no where near visible enough to see things. I didn't look at him as my hands began going up to the material at the top of my head. It's true what they say about a hijabi being nervous when showing her hair to her husband for the first time. Was the wait going to be worth it?

Just as the material slid off my head, so did the thoughts about being nervous. However this time I did look up to see his reaction and the only thing I saw was a goofy smile on his face which made me want to roll my eyes. I began taking the hair band out, completely exposing my hair for him to see.