RUWAIDA ✔️

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

"And here is the kitchen, I didn't actually use it for months, I always eat from Mama," Muhammad turned squarely and faced Ruwaida, while she interestingly stared around the medium sized kitchen, which now, has most of the utensils her family had brought amongst her lefe.

After having a simple breakfast of toast and tea, Muhammad decided to show his wife around the house, tho, she could have done it herself too without any difficulty, he still insisted, wanting to spend quality time with her, and probably make it less awkward when they'll be discussing about her hospital requirements.

He wants to vanish any edginess that's between them and if possible, make her feel free with him. He's noticed how uncomfortable she seemed the day before but he was also no less. He couldn't say a sentence straight without stuttering. Unfortunately, no matter how much he tries to ignore it, the fact that they weren't married under normal circumstances never leaves him.

"It's really beautiful, especially the cabinets," Ruwaida smiled at the pooling of brown and black coffee colour of the kitchen cabinets before looking upwards at Turaad. "You chose them?,"

"Yes, why did you ask," Muhammad dragged the long kitchen stool and then sat down, but his eyes fixed at Ruwaida's every move.

"I just noticed your thing for brown, your room has almost everything in such shade," she slowly walked and sat on the second stool, placing her right hand on the table. "Amm...would you like something,"

"To be honest I'm really hungry, and I'm sure Mama will be bringing us food later, but do you want to have something now,"

"Er-not really, but I could make something...I mean, if you want to Er- eat," she shrugged a bit, and sounded like she'd asked and not just stated.

"You don't have to stress, I could just phone Zarah and let her know that we're already starving, yes, I'm that hungry," He laughed out loud and reached for his pocket, then slowly pulled out his phone.

Ruwaida hastily reached for the phone, and then, regretted her actions when her hands grazed his unconsciously. She released the phone and bashfully looked away, hoping the ground could swallow her. She didn't wait to see his reaction as she slightly pushed back the stool and rushed back to her room.

She wanted to stop him from calling Zarah, but then, that had to happen!

She pushed the door closed before slowly walking into the room. She'd managed to escape anymore embarrassment by spending the rest of the few early morning hours while getting dressed in her room. After the Fajr prayer which they'd performed together, she couldn't help the hopefulness of praying behind Turaad again, whilst listening to his heart mollifying recitation.

For her, even getting a basket filled up to the brim with awara wouldn't suffice the feeling she got when he recited. She wished it never had ended and lasted for a lifetime, no! Not because he's her husband, but because he recited her favorite portion of the Quran, reminding her of all the blessings after hardship, and all that awaits the believers after death. Indeed Islam is of the truth!

She looked away from the vanity table and paused from fighting with the head tie, which she's been on for minutes she can't count. She heard the slight knocking ones more before she finally made her way to the door. Ignoring how her heart leaped at the realization of the person behind the door, she levered it open.

"Oh Zarah!," she moved away faintly, giving Zarah way to walk in. She hated the fact that she felt a little bit disappointed, seeing it wasn't Muhammad at the door, but then, thankfully, she managed a smile. "Good morning,"

"Morning! I hope you're loving it here," Zarah looked like the crazy teen she's, wearing a knee length pink trouser, matching perfect with her baggy baby-pink shirt, while her veil's carelessly placed on her head. "I brought you some food, Muhammad's already arranging the table," she turned as she placed the white shopping bag on one of the couches.