Under That Scarf (Editing)

Chapter Eighteen

'A lot.' Ahmed kisses her forehead. 'Is your prince watching over you? Is he falling short? Tell me.' Jamila chuckles and shakes her head.

'He takes care of me with Ihsan.' (Excellence)

'Hmm,' her father grunts. 'That's what I thought.' The domineering man pats her shoulder and then inquires about her job. The very thought about work only invites guilt over the man she counseled today. She calmly explains to her father that it's been extremely rewarding. 'AlhamdhuliAllah, I thank Rabbul Arsh for your happiness.' (Lord of the Throne) Jamila smiles and looks at the pot filled with water. Where on earth is Harun? It's getting late. I should call him. She dials his number but he doesn't pick up. Just then someone rings the doorbell. The thought of seeing her husband again propels her to answer the door herself. There, her prince stands drenched in water, his hair pasted to his forehead, his eyes dark and unreadable and a smile that almost makes his wife melt, is it weird if I say I missed him?

'Salam Alaykum.' She has a dreamy look.

'Wa Alaykum Salam.' I'm not the only one who was looking forward to being here.

'I missed you.' They say in unison, Harun chuckles and follows his embarrassed wife inside the house.

'Ah ibni! Look at you, you're wet! Come, come you need to change. Zaid get Harun some clothes yalla, Jamila take him to your room.' Aminah orders.

'Mamma what time will dinner be ready?'

'In twenty minutes.'

'Okay.' Jamila surprises herself by taking Harun's hand and leading him to her room. It's probably cos you really miss him Jam, ha spending an hour with Bilal and now you want cuddle with the man who took you under his wing. Yeah smart. Harun's gaze flickers to their linked hands and feels a wave of pride wash over him. This woman loves you to death! You're worrying over nothing. You need to trust her man. 'Go inside, I'll be right back.' Her tone is soft and loving.

'Here.' Zaid gives her a t-shirt and a pair of track pants.

'Thanks.' She heads back to her room and enters without knocking. Her husband stands facing the window. Harun turns sideways and sees his wife staring at him, there's something about her tonight. I can't put my finger on it. I need to apologize to her.

'Come here.' She obeys shyly, why on earth are you being modest now?! 'I'm sorry.' Harun takes hold of her hand, her heart beat quickens, it's like we're meeting for the first time. Gosh, get a grip.

'For what?'

'The way I was this morning.' He tugs her closer. His hand is cold, his shirt clings to his chest and his pants hang low on his waist. Focus, don't get distracted Jam.

'Oh, it doesn't matter.' I would like to know what made him that way though.

'Don't say that because it does.' Harun sighs. 'I'm just a really... I don't like it when... I... Am a protective person.' He finishes off. Jamila bites back a giggle and nods at him. 'Are you laughing at me Sheikha?' He asks playfully.

'A little.'

'What's so funny?' He grins, she's not upset or mad. That's a good sign.

'Your way of admitting things. I get what you're trying to say and you don't need to worry about him.' She reassures him, whilst stroking his beard. Him, she didn't even mention his name, ha. I'm so immature.

'Is that so?' He places a kiss in her palm.

Jamila nods almost hypnotized by this man. Gulp, he's jealous over some guy? He has no idea what he's worried about. 'You have no idea how relieved I am.' Jamila chuckles.