Under That Scarf (Editing)

Chapter Nineteen

'He did not!'

'Ahuh.'

'J tell me you're kidding.'

'You wish.'

'Of course I do! I mean he was so nice. Are you sure you're not...' Rumana had pursed her lips.

'Go on.' Her friend sighed in disappointment.

'I'm sorry, it's just so hard to believe.'

'Yeah well it happened and explaining to my husband wasn't the best feeling.'

'I can't even begin to imagine what mine would've said.' Rumana did a face palm. 'Quit your job, stay at home look beautiful for me and make babies.' She mocked her husband and Jamila chuckled.

'If Harun said that he'd be living on the street.'

'That's right sista! Up top!' Rumana held her hand up for a high five.

'Girl power!' Jamila reflected her friend's energy. This took place less than an hour ago. Jamila has other clients to worry about, Samantha is killing high school, Smelly Santa is finally taking a shower now and the old widow is not so hostile anymore. Progress is happiness Walla. But, the only person I can't fix completely is- Him. Urrr, I hate this feeling of half done work. The troubled counselor redoes her scarf and shifts her thoughts to something less stressful. Ah tonight, what do I wear? I wonder why he's being so... Creative? Goodness, it's both surprising and refreshing. What does he have in store... I'll just have to be patient. Jamila grins and prepares herself for her next client.

Is it too tight? Of course it is! You're wearing yoga pants for Gods sake, honestly who are you anymore. Jamila eyes herself in the mirror, she's wearing yoga pants and a grey top. Why she decided to wear this is beyond her but throwing on a dress seemed too cliché and she isn't the cheesy type. Yep, this is perfect. Do a twirl gurl! Hmm, what will Harun think of it? Jamila ponders over that whilst letting her brown curls fall loosely. It's only seven thirty so she still has half an hour to arrange the table. She sets the China plates, tall glasses and chilled water. Suddenly butterflies erupt in her stomach and she dances excitedly.

'It's almost eight, I better pray.' She mutters to herself. The reality of life can destroy a person if they don't have a spiritual connection. It's one of the reasons as to why prayer is so important. It protects you from immorality and evil and it engages you with a far more Superior and Powerful Being. Jamila stands entranced before her Lord, reciting the perfect phrases she's commanded to and as a result feels the undeniable dose of peace fill her heart. Seeing as she has more time, she flips through the Noble Scripture, Chapter 23 in particular. There are so many Duas of forgiveness and protection. Wow, I need to memorize this and get Harun to do it too. As she checks the time it's almost eight twenty. She frowns and decides to phone her husband. No answer? Where is he?!

Jamila skips downstairs and plops herself on the large sofa.

Where are u? :) There's no immediate reply so Jamila thinks that he's probably caught up. No biggie, I'll just wait. She scratches her eyes, exhausted.

Harun gets home at one thirty and finds a small figure lying on his couch. If he didn't already feel guilty, the sight before him almost kills him. He approaches his wife hesitantly, she's fast asleep. How long was she down here? He takes off his coat and tenderly carries her. Jamila's long curls tangle itself around his arm, her eyes are shut and her lips are slightly parted. He grits his teeth vexed at the idea of having missed their date. He places her on the bed gingerly and tries to move but her hands wind up around his neck, caging him.