*
According to the Oxford Advanced Learners Dictionary, butterflies are defined as a nectar-feeding insect with two pairs of large, typically brightly coloured wings that are covered with microscopic scales. The definition was standard across most modern day dictionaries.For Afrah however, butterflies could be defined as the ghostly entities which fluttered within the confines of her stomach whenever she looked up to find Adnan staring at her. During such an occurrence, she would clamp down on her spoon and refuse to stare at him.
The man was just too beautiful for his own well-being.
The unease spread all the way to the tips of her fingers, and she desperately sought something - anything - to hide herself behind.
"You're unusually quiet today," he said, lifting his spoon to his lips. Afrah tried not to notice the way they tugged into a lopsided grin. She tried, also, not to notice how pink they were. Or the way they moved from side to side after each spoonful. When he bit a piece of the cupcakes he'd bought as well, a crumb got stuck on the edge of his beard. Afrah forced herself not to reach out and remove it.
Adnan cocked his head to the side, watching her with an inquisitive look in his eyes. He could tell that she was thinking hard about something, but for the life of him, he didn't have a single clue.
"Your ice-cream is melting," he said, pointing to the cup in front of her. Afrah stared down, realizing she had wasted all her time staring at him.
Not that she was complaining though.
"Are you still worried about Amina?" he asked.
Her silence was enough answer.
"Look," he sighed, scratching his beard, "she's going to be fine. Amina is a strong woman. She'll overcome this, and you shouldn't beat yourself up over what happened. Do you understand?"
"It should have been me," Afrah said quietly.
"Don't," Adnan said forcibly, gripping his spoon tightly. "Don't ever say that again."
"It's the truth, Adnan," she said. "If Amina hadn't taken that drink from me, then she would have..."
"Then something else might have happened," he cut her off. Reaching forward, he took her hand in his and rubbed her knuckles slowly. "Afrah, what has happened has happened. Amina is lucky to be alive, but we should leave it at that. As for the baby, well, Allah's decision is not for us to argue over. He has His reasons for doing everything."
"Where did you go yesterday?" she asked, looking up at him suddenly. Adnan blinked hesitantly for a moment, debating whether he should tell her the truth or not.
"I went to see Sa'ada," he said finally.
Afrah withdrew her hand from his.
"She didn't tell me anything reasonable," he said, reaching for her hand again. "But I've relayed everything she told me to the private investigator I hired. He's keeping an eye on her, because I suspect she's working with someone else."
"How did you know where she is?" Afrah asked quietly, noticing the way he suddenly took interest in the smoothness of the table between them.
"I...," he cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "Well, Sa'ada is my ex-girlfriend."
Afrah pulled her hand out of his sharply, a stab of disbelief shooting through her. Adnan saw the hurt in her eyes, and he immediately hated himself for not telling her sooner.
"She's your what?"
"My ex," he replied with a bitter taste in his mouth. "I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn't think she'll turn out to be the crazy ex from hell. Frankly, I thought she was history."
YOU ARE READING
Scarred For Life
Romance*Could you ever love a broken person?* "I understand that you're broken," he said as he lifted her chin so she stared directly into his eyes. "But I want you to understand that it is my job to restore the happiness you lost. I am your husband now, A...