Love Me, Mikayla

XV

"I don't think of the people who exist outside but Mikayla, we follow Jesus. And loving each other is the greatest command given by Him. It is as great as the first command; love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your mind, with all your soul, and with all your strength."

"But we can't force it."

"Nobody's asking you to, my love. You'll eventually start loving him."

"How are you so sure?" Automatically, a smile comes to my lips because I know it's never going to happen. My hatred for him is stronger. Besides, I know that, like everybody, my mother-in-law is also confident about her son.

Not her fault. He's a perfect man—that's what they say, right? Perfect. Huh! Even my family is among those people.

"Because he's a good man?"

She shakes her head softly. "Because he's a God's man," she says, totally opposite to my expectations.

I gulp, resisting the urge to frown at her. She unfolds her arms and walks over to me. I don't give a reaction. "He loves Jesus, and he knows what love is. He'll make you feel for him. Soon." With that said, she walks past me, leaving the kitchen.

I stand alone and once she leaves, I release a sigh.

Too much confidence. The Dawoods react as if they've seen the future. Are they omniscient? How can they be so confident that just because he loves his God, I can love him? How can they relate me to him like that?

Their son might be a golden boy who's now groomed into a perfect man but that doesn't mean I will love him.

"Not even in his most beautiful daydream."

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"Uncle Barak, here I am!"

"Not him, catch me!"

"No, me!"

In the middle of the bouncing and laughing kids, I find him trying to catch them. His eyes are blindfolded and he's being a kid with kids.

Wow.

He proceeds to catch one while I go to him, crushing the grass underneath my feet. He bends, making everybody laugh as he spreads his arm in search of the kids. The cool breeze of February surrounds us but they don't feel it.

Just in a shirt, my husband is being a hero.

Keeping in mind that there are his relatives, too, I gently call his name to catch his attention.

He looks in my direction, eyes hidden behind the cloth. Gold strands tickle his eyebrows and his lips are parted a little.

I try not to find it hot.

"Aunt Mickey!" One of his nephews comes to me with a huge grin on his pretty face.

"Are you here to play with us?" His sister asks, giving me a hopeful look through her big brown eyes.

"Uh... no," I say, giving her a sweet smile. I'm not here to become a kid among you, kids. I'm here to talk to Blondie because, after the saree my mother-in-law gave to me for tonight's function, I was troubled as well as angry.

"Then?" comes Blondie's voice as he approaches me with the black blindfold in his hand. Well, black compliments his skin.

"I need to talk to you," I say, ignoring all the kids that surround us now. Why's it necessary?

"Oh, what's that about?" He asks, pushing the blindfold in his trousers pocket.

"Come with me," I take his hand to leave when his fans stop me, not wanting me to take him away from them.