Rebellious Spouse

⋇⋆26⋆⋇

Amirah
.
.

As I descended the stairs, I spotted Mom flipping through the TV channels like she had all the time in the world.

"Where are you going?", she asked, her eyes still glued to the screen.
"To pick Zayan from school", I replied, opening the shoe cabinet in the foyer. I grabbed my favorite pair of heels, slipping them on with a bit more force than necessary.

"But Samaira's at the mall. She could pick her son up", Mom said, flipping to yet another channel. She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I clenched my jaw. Of course she was at the mall.
"I doubt she would even remember", I muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

Mom shot me a sharp look, finally peeling her eyes off the screen. "Don't bad-mouth your elders, Amirah. She is his mother x, she said with that annoying, high-and-mighty tone that grated on my nerves.

"Yeah, sure, 'mother'", I mumbled sarcastically. If we were waiting on Samaira to pick for her kid, Zayan would be waiting in the rain for hours.

"I am leaving", I called out, not waiting for a lecture. I pulled the door open and stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air like I was escaping a suffocating room.

The white BMW was already waiting for me, the driver standing at attention. As much as I appreciated being chauffeured around like royalty, I couldn’t help but miss my own car. Oh, how I missed my black Lamborghini. Faizan had insisted I leave it behind, saying his family had more than enough cars, and my Lambo would just draw unnecessary attention.

What a man of honor, I snorted at the thought. He had that 'provider' mentality, something I found ridiculously hot, if I was being honest. But did that mean I had to give up my baby? Apparently so.

I slid into the backseat, and we headed toward the kindergarten. The drive was smooth, barely fifteen minutes, but it felt longer today. My mind was running through a million scenarios of how Samaira had probably didn't even consider picking Zayan, ever because the chauffeur was appointed for the task.

Zayan mentioned how he wished  for his parents to pick him up like his friends and I couldn't help but to feel bad for the little one and eventually took the matter on my hands.

When we pulled up, I stepped out and stood among the sea of parents waiting for their kids. I could already feel the judgmental stares from a few moms, probably wondering who the new woman in heels and a designer outfit with a head scarf, was.

"Hey, I haven't seen you before", a voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see a man standing next to me, with a too friendly smile, in fact. His eyes practically screamed 'interested',

I raised an eyebrow. "I have been picking up my nephew for the past month", my tone was as flat as I could make it, hoping he'd get the hint.

He grinned wider. "Oh, must have missed you. My daughter is in the same class. Kabir, by the way",

I let out a sigh. Seriously?
"Oh", was all I said, clearly not giving him the attention he wanted.

Where are these kids?, I thought, scanning the school doors. Of all days, they decided to take forever.

"Pwincess", I heard Zayan's excited voice ring out, and relief washed over me as I spotted him running toward me, his face lit up with pure joy.

"Hey, handsome", I grinned, kneeling down to catch him in a big hug. His little arms wrapped around my neck as he giggled.
"You came", he squealed.

"Of course, I did. I promised, didn't I?" I chuckled, pulling back to ruffle his hair.

As other kids started filing out, I noticed Kabir was still standing there, holding his daughter’s hand but very clearly looking at me. Gross.