Dare You To Love Me

«3» house of glass

It wasn't the sight of Lubna that had turned her stomach, or the smile that she had seen on his face but rather, it was the longing she heard in his voice, and the softness in his eyes, as he gazed at her.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she blinked them away, so unused to seeing such an expression on his face, that it'd taken her by surprise.

How long had it been, since he had gazed at her with such soft eyes, and cupped her chin with tenderness, that she never doubted his love for her? When she was six? Seven?

Now, seeing him like this, instead of the love she felt back then, there was only fear inside of her.

And even though she tried to clamp down that emotion, it was still visible for all to see. From the slight trembling of her hands, down to the faint wobble of her lips.

She blinked, and everything was back to normal. Her father looked contemplative, as he put an inch of space between them, his face mercifully devoid of all soft expressions.

A sigh of relief slipped past her lips, her tense shoulders easing slightly, though she was still poised, ready for an attack from him.

When he looked like this, she could handle it. But when he looked like the father she had lost, she had no idea how to deal with it.

Suddenly, his hands whipped out and gripped her forearm in a punishing grip, his lips pursed with disapproval.

"Where were you when I came back?" he asked in a careful tone, that had shivers racing up her spine.

A sinking feeling settled in her gut. She knew this tone all too well; it meant trouble of the highest order.

Yaseerah gulped, her gaze meeting Lubna's in question, only to find the woman smirking at her.

It was clear that she had been the one who had outed her-and how she knew Yaseerah wasn't at home baffled her, because Yaseerah had been extra careful when she had left for the stables, and when she'd returned also.

"I..." she swallowed past the lump in her throat, unsure of how to proceed. Her father was clearly in a mood, flickering between happy, lovesick, and angry.

"Think very carefully before you lie to me girl," he snapped, his grip tightening a fraction more.

Yaseerah couldn't lie to him even if she dared, but if she told him she was at the stables...

"I was at Mamu's," she squeaked out which wasn't a total lie, closing her eyes, and bracing herself for the first strike.

When it didn't immediately come, she risked opening an eye, to see him staring down at her with an odd expression.

She kept her eyes on him, even as he released her, and went back to his earlier spot, refusing to rub at the sore spot on her arm.

Lubna scrambled up to return to her task of massaging his shoulders.

"The date of your wedding has been fixed," he stated as he grabbed his phone, without turning to look at her. "Do well to remember that."

"When?" she heard herself ask, even though she immediately regretted questioning him, as he fixed her with a stare that told her he didn't appreciate her line of questioning.

"July seventh."

Yaseerah sucked in a sharp breath, the only outward reaction to the fixed date.

Her father's tone was dismal, and she knew better than to dally. She turned on her heels and left for the sanctuary of her room, not before she threw a scathing look towards Lubna who watched her with a scowl.

Though Yaseerah wanted to stay and gloat over Lubna's failed attempts at pitting her father against her, she also knew that she would only be inviting more trouble for herself.

It took everything inside her to not react at the woman's blatant hypocrisy but when Rahma-her sister's nanny-came into the room with a crying Amna, Yaseerah forgot all about the feud between her and the baby's mother, and took the two year old into her arms.

As she walked out of the room, the tension in the air slowly dissipated, replaced by the infectious laughter of Amna, who offered her a much-needed respite.

Burying her face into Amna's neck, she inhaled her sweet baby scent, calming down instantly.

The shift from the stifling tension in her father's room to the lightness of Amna's laughter left Yaseerah breathless, but she was used to it; constantly caught between the contrasting rhythms of her life.

In a couple of weeks, her life was going to drastically change once again. Just under a month, and she would be changing a gilded cage for another one.

At this point, she couldn't even let herself think about it too much or allow herself to truly feel incensed about the whole situation.

She had always known that her life wasn't hers. She was like a marionette doll, her father pulling the strings from behind closed curtains, and steering her life towards the path he wanted it to be.

All she could hope for was that little Amna didn't have to face the kind of life she was now facing, or grow up the way Yaseerah had been raised.

Though she had been raised with love by Mamu, and Bilal by extension, there was still a gaping hole in her heart, where her father's love should have been.

•°•°•••

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A word for Baba Bako, and his wife number six? 😄

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