Elhaam!

Chapter 25

Not edited!!!

With a clock not in sight, I was sure a couple minutes went by with me just shifting my weight from one leg to another.

"you don't plan on sleeping outside, do you?" he interrupted the silence, in an attempt to clear the awkward air.

I shot him a nervous lopsided smile as I went in after him. I had no idea what I was to do now, or what was to happen. the wedding night perception not helping in anyway.

"umm...I should probably go to sleep?"

I cursed myself for letting my nerves slip through my tone. the last thing I wanted was for him to see as a 'mere childish girl'. As absurd as it may sound, I wanted to impress him.

"you should freshen up. The second room upstairs by your left should have all you need" he calmly stated.

I took that as my opportunity to move. The house was the exact sample of an uncompleted building. Except the windows, tiling, and the electrical appliances were intact.

Stepping into the directed room, I immediately recognized it to be the room fahaad occupied before all 'this' happened.

His cologne evident in the air. I take it as the permanent lingering scent of the room.

I wasted no time  fishing my nightie, towel and toiletries out from the small box that accompanied me here.

For some reason, aunty fa'i insisted me only come with a small box. At this point, I had no idea what they planned for me. Even if I was curious to know, who will I ask, no one. My brother didn't find it necessary to tell me I was to be conveyed here, that's a sign I take no one will tell me anything.

I pushed my thoughts aside and proceeded to the bathroom. It wasn't to be classified as 'luxury'. It pretty much just had the toilet fittings done. In defense, the house wasn't ready to live in. I wonder how I'll survive the coming days.

Thirty minutes later, I walked out, half my fatigue washed away with the soothing hot water. Midway dressing up, I recalled I had yet to prayed Isha.

Hurrying to put my PJs, I headed for the door.

Suddenly, I came to an abrupt halt with the realization of what I had wearing.

It was perfectly normal to saunter around the house in your pj top and trousers knowing your husband is there, yet in my case it wasn't!

I resisted a shriek as I ran back to the room. Rummaging through my clothes, I finally found a hijab, then walked downstairs.

I walked on him in the kitchen. It looked like he was preparing something, a quick snack probably.

He had changed from his earlier kaftan to a t shirt and sweats. I took that opportunity to study him, even if it was from a back view.

He moved with effortless grace, almost like a professional. I never got the chance to ask anyone where he comes from, but his olive skin color always stood out. His dark hair going in perfect sync with his skin.

I still had no idea what he was making, he could be done any minute, and I wouldn't want to be caught checking him out on the first night of our marriage. It would be beyond embarrassing. So I decided to make my presence known.

"What're you making?" I stated moving deeper into the kitchen to stand beside him.

"Oh you're done. I figured you didn't get the chance to have dinner, so I'm fixing a snack for us"

"You didn't have to. Anyways, I wanted to ask for a praying mat."

"I'll get it. Can you wrap this up?"