°°°
"His kiss was a claim, a reminder of what she was to him—his, and his alone."
°°°
Aamirah’s heart pounded in her chest as she quickly slipped out of bed, moving toward Mohammed’s crib with hurried, almost clumsy steps.
She grabbed the bottle of milk she had prepared earlier, her hands shaking slightly as she lifted her crying stepson into her arms.
Her face was still flushed from the moment with him, but she tried to push it aside, focusing on calming the baby.
She cradled Mohammed against her chest, gently pressing the bottle to his lips. His cries quieted as he began to drink, his small, chubby hands resting against her. Aamirah exhaled a shaky breath, relieved at the sudden calm.
From the bed, she could feel his gaze on her. She didn’t dare turn around, knowing his intense eyes were watching her every move.
The weight of his silent presence sent shivers down her spine, but she forced herself to concentrate on Mohammed, humming a soft lullaby in hopes of lulling him back to sleep.
The soft melody filled the room, a delicate contrast to the tension that still hung between her and him. She swayed gently, her fingers brushing over Mohammed’s hair, trying to ignore the heat of his gaze lingering on her.
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains as Aamirah stirred awake, feeling the empty space beside her. He was already gone. His side of the bed was cold, a reminder of his early departure.
For a brief moment, the memory of last night flickered in her mind—the unexpected closeness she had shared with him, the warmth of his presence against her. But she pushed it away quickly, not wanting to dwell on it.
She rose from the bed, moving quietly to check on Mohammed, who was still peacefully asleep in his crib. His tiny chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and Aamirah smiled softly, brushing a hand over his soft curls.
She sighed, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest as her thoughts wandered to her future. She wanted to continue her studies, but the responsibility of caring for Mohammed, the path ahead felt uncertain.
After getting dressed, Aamirah fed Mohammed and gathered a few things before leaving the house. Today, she planned to visit her parents.
As told earlier driver dropped her at her parents house, she asked him to leave if he wanted but he said 'sir' has given him clear instructions to never leave the madam alone and unattended.
Although she can go back to college? But If she did, who would take care of Mohammed? Osman was rarely home during the day, and the idea of hiring a nanny or asking someone to help was daunting, as she had never done that asking for favour seems a huge deal for her.
She wasn’t sure how Osman would feel about it he might think that she is lacking off, but— she has to ask him no matter what.
When she arrived at her parents' house, the familiar warmth of her mother's embrace instantly soothed her. Her father was still recovering, but seeing him up and about brought her a sense of relief.
The house was just as she remembered, filled with the comforting smells of home-cooked meals and the sounds of her mother’s soft chatter.
"Aamirah, you look tired, dear," her mother said, cupping her cheek with a concerned gaze.
YOU ARE READING
𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬
Romance••• "Just because I haven't touched you as a husband should, that doesn't mean I won't," he said, his voice low and menacing. Her knees felt weak, and she didn't dare move from where she stood, his presence overwhelming her completely. She could b...
