C.H.A.N.C.E.S [✓]

38: IT'S MY DUTY!

It's been 3 months now and Omar and I couldn't be any closer. We still teased and annoyed each other of which one result of that is the green ends to my hair. About 5 inches actually. He carried me from the kitchen one day after he returned from work and pulled my bun off from under my Hijab,  and long black hair fell down my back over my hijab. He held me tightly as he piled the hair together and dipped about 5 inches into some liquid. After that he rinsed it with warm water then dipped it into another liquid. I thought he was about to cut my hair or something but he left me in the bathroom and instructed me to take a shower. After showering I noticed the bright lime green color bursting at the lower ends of my hair.

"Omar!" I ran out of the bathroom in nothing but a knee length bathrobe covering me.

Omar stared at me for a while before bursting into laughter. I swear I've never seen him laugh like that before. He looked good doing it and I wondered why he never did it often.
I threw my wet towel that I used to wipe my hair at him before I grunted and went back to the bathroom. I got used to it by now, infact I was rocking the look. Good thing I wore hijab and no one could see it.

School was going great and I was almost at my finals. I did alot of work online and ended up completing the syllabus as I had a lot of free time at home. In a month time I'll be preparing for my finally paper and I will graduate with the part time students who started a year before us. I was excited to graduate.

I was almost done with Omar's office and it was already looking great. I had issues here and there with the workers but since Omar placed by cabin in his room I was able to work peacefully and quickly. I decided to stay with la Arias and work from home, but Omar insisted I stay with him. He said he'd gotten used to me being there.

*****

The house was quiet as soon as Omar came back home from work an hour ago. I just finished making dinner and I walked into his study where he baries himself with work, to call him to eat.

"Omar food is ready." I knocked on the door.

It was his private area and he preferred no one to go in it. Not even Bisma.

I opened the door a bit to check up on him. He  lwas standing with his hands on his desk and breathing deeply. I got in the room emmdietly ignoring his warning.

It was a mess. There were brocken things everywhere and books and files were all over the place.

"Omar!" He turned around and ran his fingers through his silky black hair. He was blessed with fast growing hair, I must say.

"What are you doing here?!" he scolded.

"Dinner is ready. Are you ok?"

"I'm perfectly fine." He grunted pushing the stack of papers on the desk with one wave to the floor.

"Omar!" I rushed to pick up the stuff on the floor as he slumped back on the chair exhaustedly.

I put some of the stuff back on the desk.

"Omar what's wrong?" I said softly standing next to him on the chair as he leaned with his elbow on the desk. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed his face with his hands. He looked devastated. He was bothered for sure.

"Omar please tal..." Before I finished talking he wrapped his arms around my torso placing his head on my stomach.
Nothing surprised me more than when he began to sob. Was he crying? Omar... Yes...he was.

"Omar is everyth..."

"It's impossible Ayah. Everything is ruined. Nothing is possible." his voice muffled in my stomach as he held me tighter. I wrapped my arms around him too and began to rub his back.

"Everything will be alright Omar." I shushed him while rubbing his back.

"Not it won't... it's all ruined!" he pulled away and hit the table with his fist.

"Tell me what happened Omar."

One thing's for sure. Times have changed over the past few months and so has our relationship. To the point where he started telling me his personal problems.
And one thing has been noted.

Omar was just a brocken soul that needed heeling. He's been though alot. And I wanted to try everything in my power to help him.

It's my duty!

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Hijab- scarf (head covering)