Two Tribes

21: Heart On Sleeve

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AFRAH

Afrah buried her face in her palms and cried; her shoulders shuddering aggressively.

When she decided to marry Jameel, she thought her worries and fears would finally vanish and she would have the happiness she had always desired. She knew there were going to be a few hurdles along the way—his mother and his wife, but she thought with Jameel's love and support, she'd overcome all obstacles. She had no idea Jameel would make it harder for her to be triumphant. He was making it super easy for her enemies to get to her.

Afrah had never felt so worthless in her life before. She understood Jameel couldn't come to her the first night due to Amal's presence. No matter how much she tried to justify what he did, she kept failing as it didn't make any sense to her. He left her all alone and took his mother and wife out? If really he couldn't say no to his mother, what stopped him from inviting her to join them?

All Afrah's life, she had always been prioritized by her family and even friends. The idea that she wasn't Jameel's priority was something she couldn't accept. She wanted to be first in his life, not second, and definitely not third. "I hope I didn't make a mistake by getting into this marriage."

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Emerging from the bathroom with her bathrobe draped around her body and a towel tied around her head, Afrah met Jameel lying in her bed.

He looked extremely charming, clad in a white t-shirt and shorts that Afrah had to mentally remind herself that she hadn't forgiven him for neglecting her the way he did.

She ignored his presence and ambled straight to her dressing mirror. Through the mirror, she could see Jameel staring at her. She rolled her eyes and looked away.

"Do you feel better now?" He inquired.

"That shouldn't concern you," she mumbled, and judging by Jameel's facial expression, she knew he heard her even though he wasn't meant to.

Afrah untied the towel around her head, releasing her hair from its constraint and making it fall on her neck.

Afrah's hair wasn't long, but definitely wouldn't be considered short. She had tried different hair products to make it longer but her efforts were futile. She didn't use to care about the length of her hair until Jameel mentioned to her one time that he liked it when a woman has long hair and that he couldn't wait to see her hair when they get married. Ever since that day, she had done all she could to make it longer. She wanted to be everything Jameel wanted in a woman—emotionally and physically too.

"Do you need help?"

"I'm good," Afrah replied, plugging the hairdryer in the socket.

Afrah had her eyes closed as she began to dry her hair. She didn't realize Jameel had gotten out of her bed and was standing right behind her until she felt a hand on hers.

Instantly, she turned the hairdryer off and pulled her hand away. "What are you doing?"

"Attempting to help my wife," he replied and snatched the dryer from her. "Can't I do that?"

Afrah would have stopped him, but doing that would mean talking to him and she didn't want to do that. She wanted to hurt him the way he hurt her and her silence was punishment enough for him. He had always made it known to her that her silence was like poison to him.

"Your hair is beautiful," he complimented, raking his hand through it as he dried it. "So dark and silky."

Afrah rolled her eyes.