When you're arranged to marry a complete stranger.
18 year old, Abel Kareem is arranged to marry, 27 year old, Italian, Gotti Diorgio.
With a lot of obstacles in their way -- will they last? Or are they bound to fall and crumble?
This story is in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
| Abel Kareem |
I jumped up out of my sleep -- heart racing as I heard the downstairs door slam shut. The whole house rattled. I jumped out of bed, immediately rushing to the top of the stairs to see who had entered my home. You had to get passed security to enter the gates, but anything was possible. My heart stopped when I seen him stumbling into the house.
Gotti.
I shook my head and cursed under my breath as I watched him, eventually making my way down the stairs to assist him. I could smell the alcohol on him from here -- I could see from a distant his blood shot eyes.
I was disappointed. Disgusted.
I wrapped his arm around my shoulder as he mumbled incoherent words and tried to push me off. Gotti' been good for months now -- no drugs, no alcohol. Why am I not surprised that when he goes out with Jackson something like this happens? I made a mental note in my head that I would need to sit down with him and have a real conversation. Gotti was a grown man who was trying to work past his demons and he didn't need anyone messing it up -- brother or not. I know I can't put all the blame on him, Gotti should have known better and I'll be talking to him too. I had finally managed to get him up the stairs, I led him into the guest room -- he was not shout to sleep in our bedroom intoxicated and out of his mind. I wasn't dealing with it tonight. I stripped him of his clothes, him constantly trying to push me off and I placed a bucket on the side of the bed. I made sure he had water, and an aspirin on the side drawer and left him be.
The next morning I was awoken to my son's cries. I yawned and stretched before heading into his nursery. He was sitting in the middle of his bed, tears running down his face as he waited for me to appear. My wis' was now 6 months old (honestly I forgot how old the baby should be. If anyone remembers drop it in the comments I'll love you forever lol) and getting bigger as days went on. He was a mixture of Gotti and I although he did inherit Gotti icy blue eyes, for the first few months even his hair was an orangish red but once he turned six months it became a light brown. He had curls to die for. I loved my son with everything in me though and in the end it was definitely worth it. I changed his diaper and his clothes before heading down into the kitchen. I put his bottle in the warmer as I bounced him on my hip. He was beginning his teething stages so he's been crankier than normal but I recently bought him a teething ring so that's been helping along with my fingers he liked to chew on. Once his bottle was warm enough I placed him down and propped his bottle up. He occasionally likes to hold his own bottle but some days he does like to be lazy and have someone hold it for him -- and I know propping a baby's bottle isn't good but I'm learning. I turned the baby monitor on and headed upstairs to check on Gotti. He was laid across the bed, only in his briefs -- his hair was a mess, he looked a mess and the room wrecked of vomit. I pulled the curtains apart and watched as the sun shined through.
That got him up.
He began to groan and tried getting up but failed. I just shook my head. I watched as he took the aspirin and downed the water I left him.
