Scandalous Engagement✅(PREVIEW).

41|All Bark And No Bite.

Like bloody hell.

I was curious as to what Daddy did to Juicy Sips magazine because in their latest and previous editions there wasn't a word about me, not even about my wedding which means that he has really done something quite serious about them but wasn't willing to share what it was with me.

Well, I must know due to the fact that his thing with them has every single thing to do with me. I was used as a bait to get him so the bottom line is I was the line drawn between the fuckers and my father. And also because I love it when idiotic human beings were threatened, there's a sort of power in that.

After I was done offering my prayers I took a bath and changed into a very pair of comfortable pjs and a pair of fluffy slippers that matched my headgear, a soft blue cotton veil with polka dots in white.

Staring at myself in the mirror I patted my cheeks with both hands muttering "You're not a coward you can do this" to myself and headed out to the kitchen.

I know how to use microwaves so I wasted no time in getting my business done, I took the box that had the drink I got for us earlier and attempted to fill two glasses even though there were tons of canned and gaseous drinks in the refrigerator.

I'm a sucker for fruit juice.

Thinking it twice I hesitated in pouring the drink into the glass cup because I am prone to a little bit of clumsiness that results to accidents here and there. I don't want to find myself covered in shattered glass and pineapple drink.

Ew.

With little excitement I amble to our room holding a tray that had the box containing the drink and the cups and the pizza like a frickin' maid, cleared my throat and called out his name.

The room was quiet, only the sound of the knob turning pierced the air as he opened it and I was forced to stare beneath his neck.

So, apparently the courage I mustered earlier wasn't enough.

"Do you care for dinner?" I asked in a voice that was utterly not mine. I'm never meek. I'm boisterous.

"Sure" he drawled, helping me with the tray and ushering me into the room. "Or we can take this in the living room?" he asked, already making his way out of the room and I was fine with that.

There was this stretch of awkward tension between us that made me regret what I did. It was so palpable that you could fist it with your hands.

I'm making a comparison of Kamal with a turtle, I don't need to explain any further.

So now, he's the turtle that has its head in its shell and I was the cause of it.

I didn't mean for us to be neck deep in this sort of tension, you could cut it with a blade right through the air and I fought the urge to scream at the top of my lungs.

I hate this.

He turned the TV on as we put ourselves into comfortable sitting positions, while we ate his attention was riveted in whatever the TV was showing while mine was focused on eating without succumbing to the urge that was eating at me.

The urge to throw a tantrum.

Why? I do not know why.