Manifesting To Be The Rich Man's Wife

17

Amina's POV🩶

I was skeptical when Ibrahim called the first time. I deliberately ignored the call because I was still angry about his disappearance for a whole week, especially since I'd believed he would keep trying to make it up to me. Furthermore, I had told Zoya that we were together, making me appear dishonest and a liar. Initially, I even assumed that she could be the one who warned him to stop speaking to me. However, I decided to take the call, curious to hear what he had to say.

His words revealed that he had missed me deeply, more than I could have imagined.

I smiled with pride and contentment within me, knowing that I had been on his mind all week as he patiently waited for my call.

Look at how everything is aligning with my wishes. I asked Allah once to give me a rich man, to give him to me, and He is answering my prayers. Indeed, what God cannot do doesn't exist. In the past, I wouldn't even dream of something like this because it's a fairytale, and fairytales don't come true, but it seems mine will soon. He's ready to take me to the field, for us to inspect a land together.

Just like couples do. Even though I don't work with him, he will be including me in his work.

But what should I wear? He mentioned he will be here in two days. What clothes are appropriate to wear for a field inspection?

***

Today is the day he will come. I don't know, I don't feel like going. I'm hesitating, but to draw him to me, I have to. I have to make use of any opportunity that comes my way to grab his attention.

I have carefully chosen my attire for the day. I am adorned in a radiant yellow abaya, the color that always fills me with joy. Complementing my outfit are my beloved gold-plated earrings from the previous Eid, a sight to behold. For my hair, I have taken the time to wash and oil it, leaving it to cascade freely, so that it would absorb the sun's nurturing kisses to promote further growth and softness.

My heart skipped a beat as I heard the phone ring, and as I glanced down at the screen, my eyes widened slightly. The name displayed was none other than Ibrahim. My heart was pounding like a battering ram against my chest, threatening to break free from its cage. Every fiber of my being tingled, knowing that he was waiting for me at the field. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my courage and answered the call, the single word "Hello" barely escaping my lips.

"I'm already at the field. I'm waiting for you in the car," he said in a casual tone.

Despite my attempt to suppress it, my lips effortlessly stretched into a wide smile, the excitement and eagerness in his voice bringing warmth to my heart.

"Since you're insisting so much, I suppose I have no choice but to come," I replied, unable to contain the happiness in my voice.

With his playful tone, he whispered, "I'm waiting," and I nearly broke into laughter, brimming with joy.

"Alright," I responded, concealing my joy beneath a casual tone before hanging up the call, a wide smile still plastered on my face.

I quickly prepared myself, combing my hair and adjusting the abaya's veil, allowing it to drape over my forehead. I can't apply makeup myself, so I dedicated the time on choosing the right footwear. The options before me were Crocs, heels, and boots.

After some consideration, I made my decision—boots would be the perfect choice.

I pulled out the boots from the drawer and quickly polished them, as it had been a while since I last wore them. For the last time, I looked in the mirror to ensure everything was in order.