THE UNLOVED HUSBAND

CHAPTER EIGHT: TRUE LOVE'S KISS

Bismillah.

I still cannot believe this story has reached more than a thousand reads already. Thanks dearest readers! 

Chapter Eight: True Love's Kiss

Isaac's POV

Her eyebrows furrowed in wonder as she tried to digest the words I said to her.

"You miss me? Why?"

"You're a writer, tell me why," I answered.

She's so beautiful that I have to withdraw a breath each time I stare at her this way. Being a man, I have all these intimate thoughts of her. And since it's just her and I in my hotel room, the desire to resist is getting very difficult for me.

"Are we like childhood friends or something? Have I met you somewhere else in the past?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"No, I would have surely remembered if we were introduced to each other before," I said to her.

She still doesn't get it by the questioning look she has on her face.

"Have you ever felt that there's something missing in your heart Fatima? Like everything's perfect in your life but then you feel a small emptiness? Have you ever longed for somebody to love you to bits? Have you ever wanted to just have someone to share a weekend with or end the day with? I've missed you that way. Yes, it's been just 24 hours since we knew each other but as cliché as this may seem and I may appear like a total douchebag for saying this, but ...."

I placed my hands on the arm of the chair I was sitting before I say my next few words.

"You're the one for me."

Total silence enveloped the room. Only the ticking of the wall clock above the door could be heard.

She gulped, lowered her gaze and she bit her lower lip. She seemed nervous before she stood up.

"I.. I don't know what you mean. I think I'm just going to rest in my room before our flight. Excuse me Sir," was all she said before she left my hotel room.

There I sat, my heart in a drum roll, my breath hitching. Only Fatima Maryam has the power to make me this nervous and powerless.

I combed my hair with my hand in frustration. Astaghfirullah, I kept on confessing my feelings for her. I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow I'll say the three words to her. I even improperly proposed at the elevator.

Get a grip of yourself Isaac.

You're such a loser, I told myself.

Now, you freak her out. I got to find a way for her to go my way. I must make her love me. In shaa Allah.

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Fatima's POV

I've been crying in my bed and I don't understand myself. The words Isaac said to me were all familiar. I wrote a poem about that once upon a time, when I was in my first year in college, in my oldest poetry notebook which is hidden inside a small wooden chest I placed underneath my bed in our hometown.

Yet the words he said, captivated me. I knew how it felt to long for someone. I knew how the heart is certain that somewhere out there in this big world, one heart was made for me to love and to be loved back.

And the emptiness he described, I feel that, every day, whenever the day ends. That is I long for someone, wanted someone.

How could this be possible? The man who is locked in a room, in the same floor of this hotel eagerly wants me, just as bad how I wanted a good man to love and take care of me.