Chapter 17

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The week went by with neither of us talking about him.

I drowned myself in my work. 

But that one caustic thing kept stinging me. 

I didn't apologize for my behavior.

He must be thinking how fool of a man woman I am. 

No. Fool is a small word for manifestation of my eccentric conduct back in the elevator.

He was benign.

'I'll be out for the evening.', he said while adjusting a cap on his big head.

I hoisted my head up to take a glance.

'Date?', I raised my brows.

'No.', he smiled down at me and I knew something fishy was going on in his life.

'Cassandra?', I teased him more.

'No.'

'Then who?'

'I told you it's not a date.', he frowned and headed for his elevator.

'I'll come by nine.', he shouted from the elevator car and I chuckled to myself.

But she is a Jew. And a muslim can't marry a non-muslim.

I sighed and looked past the glass wall. It's my spot.

My gray matter again initiated to stroll around Musa.

'It's actually him that you are supposed to say sorry to.', my eyes involuntarily closed at Zaid's voice.

He was right.

I scanned my watch. It was five-ish in the evening.

Good.

I should meet him, he is just a door away.

I jumped up from my spot and made it to my room.

After a quick shower I slipped into a white blouse with a denim jeans and sneakers.

I kept looking at my reflection.

It's very monotonous.

I gazed down at the small mountain of clothes on my bed. I picked up the sky blue top again that I had changed for the fourth time.

I threw it on the bed and contemplated over mascara.

Yay or Nay.

Urgh

Why am I making a big deal out of this meet up session?

I just wanted to look as if I'm not trying to look good for him. Just presentable.

Yes and I will apply mascara, liner and gloss.

Done.

I ordered a small flower bouquet and waited for it in the lounge. 

We shouldn't go with vacant hands to someone's house.

Yeah Yeah.

I know it's the second time but I wasn't in my senses back then.

The bell pinged and I pushed down the button to reveal that bitch again with flowers in her hands.

She abandoned the flowers on the table and shut the door with a loud thud on her way out.

Bitch

Flowers. Perfect.

I stood up with the bouquet and made my way out.

My Blue Orange [COMPLETED]Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora