Zahrah's POV
The car comes to a smooth stop. I open the door, not wanting to spend another second in the closed-in space with Fahad, who just broke the news to my father that I got into a fight with another person in the gym.
"Get. In." He growls out.
My mouth immediately goes dry as my father's glare strengthens. "I mean two fights in a row, Zahrah; This has to be a record even for you? It's only been five days since you came to live with us." Baba began as my eyes fell into my stupid brother, who walked behind me as we entered the living room where my mother, Abo-Ahmad, Emila, and grandma were in place.
"I have given you every privilege there is to give, and you still disappoint me on every occasion," My father was now screaming into my face, his words gaining volume, which makes me take a hesitant step back.
"Wallah, I didn't do it on our-," I try to plead, but my father is not having any of it.
"No excuses. I've had it up to here with your nuisance," Baba began as I look toward my grandmother, but she was helplessly sitting there.
"Is this why Mama is here?" I asked, "You are sending me back to live with her," I looked toward my mother.
"No," My father began, "Your mother received your acceptance to Stanford Medical School, so she came to tell you in person but then you pull this kind of stunt,"
Couldn't believe I got in? I got in!! My GPA is so average that I was sure no Med school would accept me, and now not any school did but Stanford Medical School.
How is that even possible?
"Ezz, stop; that is enough," My grandmother interfered. "She doesn't need college; she needs a husband and to strengthen her Iman,"
"Did anyone knock on the door and I said no," My father began, "No one knocked on the door for her hand in marriage, and she is now twenty-three," My father said, and I couldn't hold it any longer, I needed to get out of here before I burst out crying.
"Stop it," Mama Noura interfered again. "You two are the reason she is like that. You forced her into medical school, and you were the one who taught her boxing and then forcing her into therapy sessions for ten years so you wouldn't have to listen to her," Mama Noura began as I went in to hug her; finally, mama Noura speaking what I wish I would say.
"Don't encourage her behavior, Mama Noura," Mama Began. "Therapy sessions were she deal with professionals is good for her,"
"No, I am not encouraging her behavior, Astaghfirullah," Mama Noura said, "I am just saying that, Near the mosque, there is an Institute of Muslim Mental Health better than sending her into atheists who know nothing about faith or how Monday Quran classes and the word of Allah could heal her better than your therapy."
" I trust and believe in Allah, Mama Noura," Mama said, adjusting her Hijab. "But still, Therapy is a good thing that we trusted for ten years, and it hasn't disappointed and beside the university needs her to visit the therapist to allow her to continue her Med school,"
YOU ARE READING
Secretly Married to my Professor
SpiritualZahrah Ezz, a furious Muslim woman with a tormenting past, has a secret. Her secret? She is secretly married to her professor. Of course, She can't tell anyone she is married to him. Benjamin Florentino has several rules, and the most crucial one i...
