"Mom", I whine, "I miss you guys so much", I say over the phone, dropping my laptop bag in the backseat. I slam the door shut and rest my back against the car, waiting for the rest to come out.
She laughs, and I feel my heart prick at the sound of it. "We miss you too, but we're not sure you miss us"
"How can you say that? ", I ask incredulously. I cried myself to sleep when you guys left!
"Well, it seems you forgot you have real, biological parents, since you have new relatives huh?", she asks, and I hear the teasing in her voice.
"I can't believe you just said that", I feign a mock hurt voice, "You know I love you two. We're just busy recently, with the move and all".
"I understand, Jamal told me. He calls us every time you know, unlike someone", she emphasizes, and I sigh exasperatedly.
"That's really nice of him", I respond, keeping my voice light and acting as if that piece of information didn't just touch a part of my heart. "Is dad there? Can you put him on the phone?"
"Of course, speak to your father will you, like I wasn't the one who called, wanting to know how my daughter is faring", she complains, mumbling the words daddy's girl under her breath.
I laugh at her words, knowing she's not the bit offended. I speak to my dad for a few more minutes, and the little advice he'd wanted to give me, could fill more than a few pages.
After the flight takes off hours later, Jamal drives us straight to our new home. I wasn't allowed to see it over the past few days, as Jamal insisted only he, Jahid and Hafsah would help with the move. Apparently, he wanted it to be some sort of surprise.
A little moan escapes my lips as I work out the kinks in my shoulder and neck. I never thought packing and moving things would be this hard, even though I didn't do any heavy lifting, Jamal took care of those.
I sneak a peek towards him, his eyes are trained on the road as he maneuvers the steering wheel with one hand. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, muscled forearms. Not the thick, heavy muscled type that makes a man looks sturdy and intimidating. I'd noticed he never misses his weekly workouts at the gym, and the results are clearly obvious. The cotton shirt clings to his taut abdomen whenever there's a light breeze, revealing the slightly rigid outlines of well-defined pectorals. His dark eyes are glued on the road, while he whistles an old Fela tune to himself.
A light cough snaps me back to my surroundings, and I look up a bit startled to find him watching me with an amused look on his face. Like he's trying to hold back a laugh or something. I feel the colour rise up to my cheeks, and for once, thank Allah that it isn't too obvious.
"We're here", he announces in that deep voice of his that carries a touch of his accent. I breath a sigh of relief that he didn't make any remark about my gawking earlier. I think I'd have died of embarrassment if he did.
That's right Nadia, just keep on embarrassing yourself in front of him.
It's not my fault. He should be blamed for looking that good, and those dimples should be banned.
Okay, Now you're just going crazy. I shake my head to put a halt to the mental debate I was having inwardly and get out of the car. The first thing that arrests my gaze is the house, built firmly on a wide expanse of land. It's painted in complete white that gives it a gleaming look, the surroundings well kept and covered with interlocking cement tiles. A tall fence wraps around the land, privately shielding us from the neighbours.
"Home, sweet home". Jamal comes up behind me, carrying the last of the bags from the car. I help him out with one so he can open the door. Mumbling a quick du'a and Bismillah, I take my first step into our new abode.
VOUS LISEZ
Our Stormy Ride
Spirituel#1 Ar-Rahma Series Their names were written down together long before the universe had been created. Life throws them at each other. They collide. An arranged marriage. Their Stormy Ride. For Nadia Ali, life was just as ordinary as a plain white cl...
