Wounded: Our Journey Home

Wounded- Chapter Nine

Edited

Published: Thursday July 23 2015 8:23 p.m

Jafar:

July 13th

"Batting? You want to take her to a place with those sticks and throwing machines?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Jamila huffed and placed the floor, I could feel the glaring daggers directed at me.

"Taking your wife somewhere to hit things isn't classified as romantic."

"As long as she's not hitting me, I'm fine."

I do admit when I came up with the idea last night it sounded bizarre and different, but it's a good way to relieve stress. Plus, Ayah used to play little league.

"Jafar, when you asked me to help, I thought romantic dinners, midnight walks, stuff like that. But never would I think murdering a ball would get her to shout 'forgive me.'"

I sighed and walked over to the counter to grab my phone. I know she's right, but I want us to do something fun. And it just so happens both of us like baseball. Before I start with any of the romantic stuff, I want us to have fun.

"I know you did, and I appreciate it, but can we think of that stuff once we're past the awkward stage?"

"Fine, but--"

"No buts," I smiled and placed my hnds on her shoulders. "I made up my mind."

"Well, you better not mess it up."

"I'll try my best not to."

-*-

Ayah:

Bring your batting gloves, I'll be over in an hour-Jafar

Batting? He's taking me batting for our first date?

Wow, that's the first time I referred to today as a 'date.' It's weird really. With all the movies I watch, the books I read, I never imagined myself doing something close to a first date. I've always pictured me and my husband--I didn't know I was going to marry Jafar at the time--remaking all the cheesy scenes. I even imagined him having a motorcycle, but unlike the girls who always call them 'death machines,' I would embrace the opportunity to enjoy the wind blowing through my hijab. It's amazing what a twelve year old could think.

"Mama, can I talk to you?"

Mama looked up from her book, nodding and motioning for me to sit down next to her on the bed.

"What can I do for you?"

"It's Jafar," I sighed. Mama looked up at me and smirked slightly.

I thought so. Did something happen?"

"No," I shook my head. "We're suppose to go out today--batting?"

"Batting?" She smiled. "That sounds...different. But a good different."

"It is, but am I letting him off too easily? Am I moving too fast with forgiving him, or should I just relax and let nature take its course?"

"It's all about following your heart. If you feel he deserves a second chance, and if you love him enough to give him that chance then go for it. Don't do it because you feel bad or you're pressured."