Wahaj's POV
He pulls in another lungful of air, chest rising and falling harshly, eyes locked on mine before trailing to the car once more and back to me - over and over.
And then he does the last thing; I would've ever expected him to do.
Ibrahim moves around me - and rushes towards the car door.
"Ibrahim, what are you doing? Where are you going?" I breathe quickly and anxiously, close at his heels.
He doesn't answer, simply keeps walking determinedly towards the door. "Ibrahim!" I hiss, and hustle in front of him, blocking his way.
"Wahaj, I don't want to hurt you, move out of the way," he murmurs almost absently, eyes firmly on the car door as if in some sort of trance as Layan is watching him inside the car while Lila was asleep.
"I want to see them. I want..."
I feel my indignant fury returning, my protective instincts taking over me.
Whether Ibrahim knew the truth or planned to do anything at all and what exactly is his game is something I'll have to think about later. Still, it doesn't change the fact that this man coldly stomped on my heart one day and betrayed my trust. He blew into my life like a whirlwind – and out of it like a hurricane without warning.
I refuse to let him do that to my daughters.
"You want what? What exactly do you want?"
He doesn't answer me, just keeps staring at their faces behind the glass window.
"You don't know what you want, Ibrahim! You never have!"
He stands there with his eyes glued to the door, nostrils flaring but doesn't respond.
"This is not a game, Ibrahim!" I say through clenched teeth, glaring up at him as I moved him away from the car. "You can't open that door on a whim, or simply to satisfy your curiosity! You can't enter this world for a few hours and then be on your way until you figure out what exactly it is that you want! They are not a game!"
"THEY ARE MY DAUGHTERS!" he howls, so forcefully that it shocks me into retreat. I take a couple of steps back while he locks me inside his furious gaze; eyes were burning with a fire I've never seen before.
He stalks over to me, but then suddenly staggers backwards.
"Ya Allah. Oh, Allah, They're my... they're my daughters," he reiterates in a choked voice as if he's just realized what's actually occurred here.
After a few seconds, he straightens up and glares down at me again, his breathing hard and erratic, but I won't cower down to him. I bowed to his will unquestioningly once and ended up hurt beyond words. I won't let him do it to my daughters.
YOU ARE READING
The Secret Life of My Husband, The Professor ✔️
Spiritual❝ You are a Lair, Professor! ❞ I said as I slapped him across the face. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. ❝ No student of mine may disrespect me like that and get away with it ❞ He said with a force that would have made any person in the wo...
