THE UNLOVED HUSBAND

CHAPTER THIRTY - EIGHT: A GLIMMER

Bismillah.

Thank you all for your advises. In shaa Allah, I have made the right decision. This took a long time for me to update, I am ever grateful for your patience.

Chapter Thirty – Eight: A Glimmer

Fatima's POV

There's something about the whiteness of the ceiling that lured me in. It's so white, super white that I wonder why some people say that white isn't a color. Black is the absence of the color, they say. But white isn't the presence of color. It's just white. There isn't an orange, blue, red, or purple in it. White is one lucky color. It knows itself and does not get involved in other colors.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated on the bedside table and my gazed turned towards it. I reached for it, still lying on my back, facing the white ceiling. It was Isaac calling me. I stared at my phone and sighed before answering.

"Assalamu alaykum Baby," his cheerful voice said.

"Wa alaykumusalam Hubby," I said, trying to match his cheerfulness.

"How is the day off going?" he asked.

"Hmm, I am still in bed," I answered truthfully.

At least I can tell him that, my subconscious told me. I hate that I have to keep a secret from him. I hate it so much. But I also am scared of the consequences of telling him, like losing him.

"Want me to skip work and be with you in that bed instead," he joked.

That made me chuckle and blush.

"Can't get enough of me, can you?" I joked on him.

"I really can't Baby," he said in a husky voice.

"You man who is eight years older than me, behave and have some shame," I said in a pretend angry tone.

He laughed out loud. And the sound of it was enough joy and pain for me.

"Alright, alright, I'm gonna behave. I just called that whatever your plans for the day are, I want you safe okay? If you need assistance or help, speed dial me right away, okay?" he asked.

I smiled at his protectiveness.

"Yes Hubby, I will."

There was no response from him.

"Hubby?"

He inhaled then spoke.

"Are you sure you don't want a driver or any of the bodyguard to go with you please?" he said worriedly.

"NO!" I said a bit sharply, sounding alarmed.

"I mean, no, I just want a solo moment. You know how much of an introvert I am," I said, in a normal tone.

"Okay Baby. Eat on time okay?"

"I will," I told him.

"In shaa Allah. I love you baby," he said.

"I love you too," I said. Then he hung up the phone.

I placed the phone back to the bedside table and stared back at the white ceiling.

"Fatima, you aren't white today. You need to be purple, orange, green, red, pink, peach, yellow, and blue," I said out loud before rising up from my bed.

I seriously am going out of my mind. Seven different colors. Seven different men. When all I wish I could just be is just the pure white color who knows itself and is not involved in all other colors.