Inevitable Flaw

Chapter 8: Reveal

"I told you that abaya would look good."

I move past my reflection at mama. Her body is resting on the door's frame, eyes gleaming with admiration. I take in her black abaya, the thin gems encircling each sleeve, and her matching black hijab that gloats her beautiful pale face.

After noticing my acknowledgement of her presence, she lifts her body from the door's edge and walks right behind me. We both stand there in front of the body length mirror.

After hours of mama convincing me to, I finally decide to wear my pink abaya.  Its crystals illuminate multiple colours throughout the room, the lace detailing finally appealing to me. 

 After a fair bit readying, my satisfaction is pleased. 

I look up at mama's face resting on my right shoulder, her teeth visible. There is something in that smile that advertises a lack of truth.

I slowly make the motion to face her, my eyes quickly scanning the both of her's, trying to catch any pain in them. I smile in an attempt to buy time to process my next move, debating whether to confront her about last night's incident or to ask about her recent patterned behaviour. The former choice deems too upfront, so I take the latter route.

"Is there something wrong?"

She looks off guard for a while, her hands feeble around my arms. She moves her head from left to right, her expression paid to act as fine. 

The silence judges the lie. 

She is hurting. 

Knowing it will ruin the rest of the night, I  nod and shake it off, leaving it organized in the back of my mind.

"Are you going to be upstairs all day," Aasif groans from downstairs, his tone dripping impatience. 

"We're coming," mama shouts back with calm.

We are greeted by Aasif, who sports a dark black tuxedo that fits perfectly over his body, his blonde hair sleeked in shine. 

"You like what you see Meera," he parades with one eyebrow raised.

"You wish," I pretend gag. 

As I relish in his entirety, I absorb his resemblance with my father; they are exact reflections of each other. 

The sky is a growing fume of black, the stars the only bright shade. The weather is perfect. I can feel a slight breeze, but even those twirl in friendly ways. 

Not a sound whistles. 

After about less than a minute of walking, we all clustered on top of Adam's massive front porch while presses the doorbell.

Adam's house is three storeys high, a massive pool in the back yard. The house's windows take the majority of its walls. The front has a beautiful garden surrounding it, one that roams a great distance from the residence. His anterior door reaches a good height and is made entirely of heavy glass. Behind the glass is a dark brown door frame that screens the inside of the house. 

The wooden door opens, revealing Adam.

He is wearing a black dress shirt covered by a grey vest, the fit bringing out his masculine physique. His grey tie matches the shade of the vest and the loose dress pants. The way his hair is flawlessly combed to the back, adds to the breath taking appearance. His alluring eyes capture mine, just in time for mine to sprint away. 

We follow his motioned hand into the warmth, the strong delicious aroma of food embracing us. I watch as he shares his mourn with mama before proceeding to hand greet Aasif. I just stand still until his mother comes out of the kitchen. I greet his father briefly before running towards my second mother figure, this odd break from her long business trips pleasing me.