Trust You [TRUE STORY]

Chapter 39

MY MOM WASNT HOME WHEN I CAME BACK.

I arrived at the house around eleven at night, only to see that my mom's car was not in the driveway. I took this as the chance to immediately go inside, using the spare keys I have.

The house was dark, empty even. I was the only one home and I took advantage of this by watching some movies before finally going to sleep. I wondered where my mom could possibly be but at the same time I didn't bother calling to ask because then I'd have a early confrontation from her before she's even home which, if you didn't know, is not at all what I want.

Leaving Yassef was hard. I mean, I was leaving-leaving per-say, but I was taking a break from him. Part of me felt bad for cutting him off every time he wanted to explain but I felt that if I let him speak, he'd find a way to excuse himself and I'd forgive him only to get hurt again two weeks after.

Why do I even like Yassef? I've never even asked myself that. He might be my husband and we might have been forced to marry each other, but that shouldn't be the only reason why I have feelings for him. Is it his looks? His crazy brown curls that drive me nuts? (Especially in the sun light). His bright brown eyes that sparkle every time he laughs? Or what about when he smiles at me? Genuinely smiles because he thought what I said was funny or cute?

Is that why?

Maybe it's his lips? Those addictive little things attached to his mouth. They moved nice against mine, maybe that's what it was. But I liked Yassef before the lip lash thingy. I liked Yassef before I knew Yassef.

He's goofy when you get to know him. He gets funny, and he's very stubborn. Maybe it's those good and bad qualities about Yassef that I admire. Or maybe it's how he changed with me, how he developed and finally started to get along with me.

No, this is toxic. We are toxic.

In the morning, I smelled coffee burn my nose and the smile smell was enough to wake me up and drag me to the kitchen. My beautiful mom had her back to me, facing the coffee maker as she poured herself a nice cup of coffee—

She turned around with the cup in her hand, only to raise her eyes from the glasses that hung from her nose. When she caught sight of me, she slightly jumped before catching her breath and holding a tighter grip to the cup in her hand.

She angrily put down the cup on the counter and marched towards me, grabbing a hold of my ear and twisting it, "What is wrong with you! Huh? What are you doing here?"

She let go of my ear, leaving a red mark and a burning hot feeling in them, "I'm just going to stay here." I croaked, "Sorry for scaring you."

My mom suddenly softened, her eyebrows going back to normal. She saw how sad I felt and practically held my face in her hands.

"How have you been?"

It's been so long since be talked to my mom. She's been the first person who I knew the doors would always be open (almost always) and would also help me with my personal problems.

Actually, not really. I don't know why I said that. Well, my mom is good at other things.

"I've been fine." I rubbed my arms. My mom didn't know about Karen. She didn't even know Yassef was a little haram kid in his past. I wasn't going to tell her, it's wasn't any of her business, "Yassef and I are...doing fine."

"Lies." She grabbed my chin, "You wouldn't be here if you were."

"He's just—" I tried to find a word, "Frustrating?"

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her coffee and adding whatever she wanted inside of it. I saw her add a few spoons of sugar before facing me, "What part of it is frustrating?"