"There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be..."
"This story is a gripping tale of desire , jealousy , and unforgettable characters as real as the emotions that bring them together"
This is a story about Khadija afrah and afaan...
The next morning, I opened my eyes to find Afaan's arms wrapped romantically around my waist, my head nestled comfortably on his chest. The events of the previous night flooded back to me, and I couldn't help but think, Oh God I tried to shift but found I was pinned down by his solid weight. A tingling sensation shot through me, bittersweet, and I felt the red marks on my neck, which made me involuntarily moan.
My melodious moan seemed to wake him up, and he stirred slightly, giving me a cheeky wink.
"Easy there, babe. You weren't planning on running off and leaving Daddy, were you?"
"Umm," I stammered, So I'm 'babe' now?
"What's up? Did the cat swallow your tongue?" he teased, grinning.
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Kamanta ne" trying to push myself up.
"Ummi, daddy, Ya Khalifa, Adda Zara, Adda Scarlet—come and save me! He's killing me! Tell him to stop, Ouch !" he mimicked dramatically, and my eyes bulged in horror. I quickly dove back under the sheets, covering my face.
"I'm in trouble with this man!"
"No, you're not, babe." He slipped under the sheets and kissed my forehead softly.
"Allah ya miki albarka, you've given me the best gift a wife can give her husband. You'll be one of the women of Jannah, Insha Allah. I love you so much. Now stop smiling and rest, you need it." I felt my eyelids grow heavy and dozed off immediately after his words. ******************************************** When I awoke again, a delicious aroma wafted through the air, but I noticed Afaan was no longer beside me. I tossed the bedcovers aside and padded to the bathroom for a soothing hot bath in the jacuzzi. Afterward, I slipped into one of his shirts, changed the bed sheets, and headed downstairs.
As I entered the kitchen, I spotted him, shirtless and deep in concentration as he cooked. He looked incredibly serious, and I couldn't help but lick my lips as I watched the sweat trickle down his back, the effort he was putting into the meal evident in every one of his movement.
"Babe, you know you can just come and touch me instead of looking all sexy and gawking at me, right? And stop being shy, you saw everything yesterday," he added.
Okay, Afaan will definitely be the death of me.
"Ya Afaaaaaan, good morning! I came to get this apron—oh, I meant spoon!" I stammered, darting out of the kitchen.
I chuckled to myself as I switched on my phone.
I decided to FaceTime Zara and Munirah.
"Heyyy, baby girl!" Zara exclaimed, wiggling her brows suggestively as she answered.
"Ohhh girl, you're glowing! Let me see the other side—damn girl!" Munira teased, a playful lilt in her voice.
"Seriously, you guys, nothing happened, really!"
"Oh really? Can you explain the 'Ohhhs' and 'Ahhhs' we heard yesterday? And besides, where's the Macho Man?" Munira asked.
Just as I was about to answer, Afaan strolled in, cutting me off.
"Well, Macho Man is here, cooking for his babe and about to feed her ," he declared with a grin.
They squealed and burst into laughter, quickly dropping the call. I knew I wouldn't hear the end of this. He stretched, and I couldn't help but think he looked like Jamie Dornan.
"Wait, you cooked this?" I asked, still trying to process how he managed to whip up such a feast.
"Afrah, I went to a cooking class for a year," he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Afaan, you're full of surprises," I said, genuinely impressed.
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After we finished eating and cleaned up, I suggested a game. "Let's each write down five things we love and dislike and share them with each other."
"Sounds fun," he said, and we both got to work. I shared that I loved cats, food, clothes, surprises, and nice people, while I disliked unexpected visitors, storms, lightning, dogs, and rude people.
He wrote on his love list that he adored a neat wife, a wife who could cook, a cute wife, a beautiful wife—"And that's you, Afrah."
"Please, who told you, Afaan, that this is a poem? We're just trying to get to know each other here!" I laughed.
We continued playing and learned so much about each other. Just as we were getting into the groove of things, his phone rang. He had to leave urgently for a meeting at work, and I felt a pang of disappointment.
"Promise me you'll be back soon?" I asked, not wanting him to go.
"I promise," he said sincerely, leaning down to kiss me softly. "And don't peek at my paper!"
As soon as he left, boredom set in, and with it, the gloomy rain began pouring outside. I considered calling Zara to come over when suddenly, the lights flickered and went out. I hated the dark so much. I fumbled up the stairs, using my phone's flashlight to navigate.
Just as I reached the kitchen, I heard a strange sound. "Who's there?" I called out, my heart racing.
When I entered the kitchen, I noticed a broken tumbler on the floor. My heart sank further as I shined my light around the room, revealing a woman clad in all black, perched on the counter with her mouth covered by a mask. The only visible features were her piercing eyes, framed by dark kohl.
"Who are you, and how did you get in here? What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound brave.
"I'm your worst nightmare," she replied coldly, and suddenly, darkness engulfed me.
Every day we have plenty of opportunities to get angry, stressed or offended. But what you're doing when you indulge these negative emotions is giving something outside yourself power over your happiness. You can choose to not let little things upset you. ~Joel Osteen
