Veil of Truth

Chapter 11

Amina didn't want to turn around and look at him, nor did she feel the need to talk to him. What could he possibly want, she wondered. But she knew, despite her desire to avoid him, she couldn't just ignore him—it would be rude.

If you're wondering who this is, then you guessed it right... the great Amir. note the sarcasm

"Yes?" Amina said, her tone cold and distant.

He stepped closer. "Amina, I just wanted to thank you one last time for all your help," he said, before unexpectedly taking her hand.

Without thinking, Amina pulled her hand away sharply, her anger flaring up. How dare he touch me? she thought, fuming inside.

Amir quickly withdrew his hand, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I'm really grateful to have a friend like you," he added, as if trying to calm her down.

Friend? When did we ever become friends? Amina thought bitterly.

She simply nodded, not trusting herself to say anything else. "I have to go. My Parents are waiting for me," she said quickly, eager to leave the uncomfortable situation behind.

Amina turned to walk away, but then froze in her tracks.

Zayd was standing there, glaring at her with eyes full of anger and something darker—hatred.

Her mind went blank, her heart skipping a beat. She stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what was happening. When did he get here? she thought, but the question barely registered. All she could focus on was the way his eyes burned into her, like he was ready to devour her whole.

A shiver ran down her spine. Slowly, she began to regain her senses. Why is he looking at me like that? she wondered, her chest tightening. She felt as though, in any moment, he might lash out.

With slow, deliberate steps, Amina moved toward her parents, doing her best to ignore Zayd's burning gaze. She stood beside her mother, feeling a slight sense of relief.

Mrs. Sarah, beaming with excitement, turned to everyone and said, "Let's have dinner outside; it's a big day for my two daughters!" Her enthusiasm was contagious.

Amina smiled softly, though the fabric of her niqab concealed it from view. Hearing Mrs. Sarah refer to her as a daughter filled Amina with an unexpected warmth. She felt a small, quiet happiness at the connection, even if it was something she hadn't quite expected.

"Yes, Mom," Layla replied as she rejoined them after coming back from the restroom. Amina's parents nodded in agreement, happy with the suggestion.

But then, Zayd spoke up, his voice cutting through the moment. "Mom, I can't join you all for dinner," he said to Mrs. Sarah.

Amina couldn't help herself from thinking, He has such a good British accent, the thought slipping into her mind unbidden. Amina had always been a fan of the British accent ever since she'd first heard it years ago. She liked the way it sounded—smooth, confident. She, too, has a decent British accent, but not like his. Maybe it's because he grew up in London and I grew up in India, she reasoned, trying to comfort herself with the thought.

"Zayd, no work today." Mrs. Sarah's voice was tinged with a hint of annoyance. She then added, her tone shifting to something lighter, even teasing, "It's a very special day for your sister and soon-to-be wife. How can you miss it?"

Amina's heart skipped a beat. The mention of soon-to-be wife hit her like a wave, and before she could stop it, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. Why am I blushing? she thought in a panic. It's not a love story. She quickly reminded herself that it was all just part of the situation—a forced marriage, after all. She silently thanked Allah that her face was hidden behind her niqab, or else her embarrassment would've been all too obvious.