“You know...” Dayyaan starts, “Marc’s not as bad as you may think he is.”
“Ok give me a minute,” I take out my phone and unlock it, “let me call a doctor since you’re clearly not feeling well.”
A laugh escapes his lips and soon we both look at the couple in front of us as we conversed.
“So...how comes I’m only just meeting you?”
“Hm maybe because I haven’t been here,” he says in a ‘duh’ tone. So he’s a sarcastic one then? Idiot...I glare at him for a moment before he speaks again.
“I was in Spain,” ah so that explains the tan, “and before that I was in India, meri dost.”
I smiled as I recognised the urdu phrase that I’d picked up from Hafsa, my half Pakistani cousin. “So exactly what do you do that requires you to travel all around the world?”
He looks at me, his face serious, “modelling...for Calvin Klein boxers and underwear.”
Can you blame me for my reaction? A Muslim man modelling...in underwear... with my jaw two inches away from the ground, I stare at him, in shock and bewilderment.
The next thing I know, the idiot is booming with laughter. “You- you’re re-reaction!” he manages to choke out between laughter.
As I realise that he was lying, I myself also start laughing with him. How could I actually believe him? “So exactly what do you do?”
“Marc and I are partners, I work with Marc and sometimes I travel around the world to meet with clients.”
“So how comes Marc didn’t go with you,” I frown, coming to the conclusion that Marc makes Dayyaan do all the dirty work while he sits his behind in an office.
A chuckle escapes his lips, “he’s volunteered before, multiple times actually...but I always manage to convince him to stay with Anaya. I can hardly take care of myself so how can I guarantee that I’ll be able to take care of someone else?”
“So exactly how did you last in Spain and India?”
“I don’t know to be honest...all I can say is, Alhamdulillah I’ve made it back in one piece,” he grins.
“Are you both done now?” Dayyaan and I turn to look at an annoyed Marc, “Dayyaan...shall we get to work?”
“Marc you spend a lot of time at work,” Amanda pouts, “I hope you’re not going to be working on our wedding day.”
Marc rolls his eyes and I refrain from doing the same. What a jerk, really.
“Amanda, you should be used to the way I live by now...else I don’t know how you’ll manage with me if you don’t,” he pulls out his phone and busies himself with it.
“Err, yeah I-I’m sorry, I just...I didn’t mean to anger you,” Amanda stutters, unable to face sir.
“Shall we go?” sir gives Dayyaan a pointed look.
Dayyaan nods and follows sir out, “I’ll see you two ladies later, Salaam.”
----
“So, just because you don't agree with the whole wedding sha-bang, you’re calling your older sister and begging her to come over?”
“Pretty much...I’m sure Marc will listen to her,” Anaya nods as she scrolls through her phone.
I scoff, finding it hard to believe that Marc would listen to anyone, “Ok I have two questions.”
“I’m all ears.”
“So apart from Marc and your sister uh...?”
“Melissa,” she informs, looking up from her phone screen.
“Right, Melissa... is there any more brothers or sisters that you have?”
“Nope: just me, Melissa, Marc,” she chuckles, “and Dayyaan. Second question?”
“Actually, I’m curious as to why you don't like Amanda?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I don't like her...more like, I absolutely wish she would disappear off the face of the earth and stay away from us – well, Marc - and just let us live our lives peacefully,” shrugging, she returns to her phone. “I’m positive that she’s got some reason for wanting to marry Marc and love isn’t it.”
“I think you watch too many films Anaya,” I grin, “do you really think she doesn’t love him? Because I think she does.”
“Whatever,” she sighs, “Where is she anyway?”
“I think she’s gone to get a massage or something, I’m not sure. But she should be back in a few hours.”
“Oh the joy,” she rolls her eyes and presses the phone against her ear. Just as she does so, my phone beeps; Hafsa. Excusing myself, I leave the bedroom and gently shut the door behind me.
“Hello, Assalaam Alaykum.”
“Wa’alaykum salaam, what time are you coming home?”Hafsa asks hurriedly.
“Well, I’m not sure but are you alright?”
“No, Isra...” she heaved a shaky breath before speaking again, “Isra, I...I’m pregnant.”
_____________________________
Ohmygosh, it's been some time since I've uploaded... But better late than never!
So here are my excuses for not uploading earlier and for then uploading such a short chapter ..... ahem.....
- I had (and still do) need to stay after school till late for extra revision and stufff
- It's exam season :( so i kinda don't need added stresssss from wattpad to regularly upload
- It was my 16th birthdayyyyy :D so I had to #TurnUp oh gosh I need to be stopped *face palm*
aaaaaand this stupid, unwanted and irrelevant thing....
- Writer's block ..... it sucked :(
I'm done
Mayyaaaaaaaaa x
YOU ARE READING
Working for Him...
SpiritualMeet Isra; a 19-year-old Muslim girl who doesn't seem to know how to think before she speaks or act. All in all, she's funny, charming and super friendly. However, Isra's life is turned upside down when she makes a decision out of love for the ones...
