THAT BURQA GIRL [ON HOLD]

Chapter 3 {Edited}

                •••HAFEEZAH POV•••

As soon as I entered my husband's office, I saw him sitting behind a mahogany desk. He was typing something on his laptop. A serious frown was plastered across his visage. 

He lifted his eyes from the laptop screen as soon as he sensed my presence in the room. His deep blue eyes interlocked with mine for a brief moment. My heart skipped a beat as his gaze bore into mine. It was like he was studying me. My eyes tore away from his and rested on his grey armani suit that had hugged his mascular chest impeccably. The first few buttons of his white official blouse, were undone thus exposing a whisper of his silky chest hairs. His sharp jawline was adorned with a mat of facial hair. His handsomeness was unlike anything I had ever seen. 

He cleared his voice loudly which yanked me from my sea of thoughts. 

"Are you done staring? " His deep masculine voice shook the place. 

"I--umm. " I was lost for words. 

"Since you clearly don't have a reply, have a seat. " He motioned me to a leather chair which was in front of his desk. I strolled to the seat and plopped on it. The texture of the leather against my behinds, invoked a calming feeling. 

There was a moment of silence as he sipped his coffee. His deep blue eyes met mine once more and I quickly looked away. His intimidating gaze had my body shivering. 

"So, why did you decide to still put on a burqa? " He suddenly shot a question at me. 

His question baffled me. "What do you mean by that? " I queried. 

"I asked why are you still putting on a burqa even when the contract clearly stated that you will not put it on. " He added. 

His answer almost made the coffee that I had just sipped, to choke me. 

"What contract? And why does it prohibit me from putting on a burqa?" Questions fired from my mouth. 

"This is interesting. You have no idea that you signed a contract on the day of our betrothal? " He spoke. 

"No. I didn't sign any contract. " All this was confusing. 

He sat back in his swivelling office chair with a satisfied look on his face. He was clearly enjoying my predicament. 

"Tell me which contract are you referring to? And what does this contract say? " I was throwing questions at him as worry took over my senses. Umar on the other hand was watching my actions, calmly with a smirk embedded across his perfect face. 

"You don't recall signing any papers on our wedding day? " He cocked his thick eyebrow. 

"I do recall signing the marriage certificate. That's the only document I signed on that fateful day. " I retorted. 

"Fool! The contract was attached to the marriage certificate. You should have read through everything before signing it. Anyway, what's done is done. Now, you have no choice but to meet the terms of our agreements and by that I mean, the terms of the contract. One of the key terms states that you are NEVER to wear a burqa. "

"The burqa is my cultural wear. I can't just stop wearing it because some god forsaken contract that I didn't even know about, says so! " I was seething with rage. I felt like smashing something or someone.