Shadows of enmity

PART 5

In the heat of the moment, I couldn't hold back any longer. Anger, frustration, and resentment boiled over, spilling out in a torrent of words as I unleashed my fury upon Hafsa. Every insult, every accusation, every pent-up emotion erupted from me like a volcano, each word a dagger aimed at her heart.

For a moment, it seemed like I was winning, like my words were piercing through the armor of her arrogance.

In the midst of this explosive encounter, my mind wandered to someone else entirely.

Was Mohammed really who I wanted?

Did he see me for who I was? 

or

who i wanted to be for HIM?

The questions gnawed at me as I let the argument with Hafsa dissipate. My fury ebbed away, leaving a hollow feeling inside. I turned away from Hafsa, her expression a mixture of shock and anger, and began walking towards my car. Each step felt heavy, burdened with the weight of my own uncertainties.

As I reached my car and fumbled for the keys, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Mohammed's name on the screen. I hesitated for a moment before answering, my voice steadying as I said, "Hello?"

"Hey, where are you? listen ...I can explain" Mohammed's voice was urgent, a mix of desperation and sincerity. "I really want to talk to you."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me. Part of me wanted to hang up, to avoid the conversation I had been dreading. But another part of me needed to hear him out, to understand his side of things. "I'm just leaving," I said calmly. "I'll come over."

As i drove back the cool night hair brushed against my skin through the open window the moon hung low in the sky, a pale crescent casting a silvery glow over the landscape. Stars twinkled faintly, scattered like tiny diamonds against the velvet darkness.The road stretched ahead, illuminated by the soft glow of the headlights, guiding me through the quiet night. The serenity of the scene felt almost surreal, as if the universe was offering me a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

As I approached my house, I noticed a familiar figure waiting outside. Mohammed stood by the door, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety flooding through me. I parked the car and took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart before stepping out into the cool night.

"Hey," Mohammed said softly, his eyes searching mine as I walked towards him.

''hey'' i say gently

he said, stepping closer. "i know you may be upset with me but  I need you to know something important. I love you, not Hafsa. I didn't want to tell you earlier because I was afraid it would make you feel insecure or hurt. But it's you I care about and its always gonna be you"

''good'' i say.

Before I could second-guess myself, I closed the distance between us, my lips crashing onto his with a fierce urgency. The kiss was electrifying, a surge of passion that erased any lingering doubts. Mohammed responded immediately, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer. His hands tracing the outline of my dress, the fabric bunching slightly under his touch as he explored the curves of my body.

Without breaking the kiss, Mohammed lifted me effortlessly, his strong arms supporting my weight as he carried me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, my fingers tangling in his hair as I held on tightly. Each step he took echoed through the quiet house, the anticipation building with every movement.

In the midst of Mohammed's passionate embrace, my mind drifted to Diego. I couldn't shake the image of his dark, curly hair and the intelligence that sparkled in his eyes. Even as Mohammed's lips sought mine and his hands caressed my body, it was Diego's face that filled my thoughts, igniting a firestorm of desire within me.

Mohammed's strong, veiny hands traced the outline of my dress, sending shivers down my spine. Each touch was firm yet gentle, igniting a hunger that threatened to consume me. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, but it was Diego's name that lingered on my lips, a forbidden whisper in the heat of the moment.

i moaned with pleasure and triumph because all i wanted was for HIM to swoop me up and carry me away so that i could be HIS

And yet, even as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, a part of me couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Mohammed's love was real, his passion undeniable, and yet here I was, lost in a fantasy that belonged to another.....

Before I knew it, Mohammed's hands were on me again, guiding me towards the bed. His lips captured mine in a fervent kiss, our bodies pressing together, the heat between us building with each passing second. His hands roamed my body with a sense of urgency, exploring every curve, every inch of exposed skin.

Mohammed's lips trailed down my neck, his hands caressing my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips, my body responding eagerly to his every caress. But in the depths of my mind, it was Diego's hands I felt, Diego's lips I craved.

My heart banged and oozed with desire as Mohammed forced my body to collide with the bed, the intensity of his need matching my own. His strong, veiny hands gripped my hips with a possessive urgency, lifting me slightly as he positioned himself between my legs. The rough fabric of his jeans brushed against my inner thighs, sending shivers of anticipation through me.

We collapsed onto the bed, our bodies spent and worn out from the intensity of our lovemaking. The air was thick with the scent of our passion, the room still echoing with the remnants of our desire. Mohammed's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as we lay there, breathless and sated.

His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his skin slick with sweat. I nestled into his embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting contrast to the cool night air. Our limbs were tangled together, a testament to the intimacy we had just shared.

Mohammed's hand stroked my hair gently, his lips pressing soft kisses against my forehead. "You were amazing," he whispered....

A small smile tugged at my lips as I looked up at him, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. "So were you," I whispered, trying to match his sincerity. But even as the words left my mouth, a pang of guilt tightened around my heart.

I had been there with Mohammed, feeling every touch, every kiss, but my mind had been somewhere else, with someone else. The memory of Diego's face, his touch, his presence, had been a constant whisper in the back of my mind, overshadowing the reality of the moment.

was this really me?

was  i..doomed to be unsatisfied with my life with Mohammed due to the attraction i have for Diego...

my thoughts are disrupted by the..eye contact i make with Mohammed again..

Oh no...