"There were still too many questions left unanswered for Hisham and as for Isma, there were still too many tables left unturned!"- Amalk807.

A shoe!

Followed by another shoe!

Followed by a pillow!

Followed by a hairbrush!

Almost followed by a lampshade!

All these were very much dramatically flung against the wall with only one thing continuously coursing through Isma's mind...

Just.

Why?

Couldn't.

The.

Interview.

Have.

Been.

Normal.

N...O...R...M...A...L.

Was that something too much to ask for?

Blood rushed to her cheeks and she embarrassedly buried her face in her hands, her mind getting fully clouded with thoughts of only one person...

HISHAM HOSSEINI.

Why hadn't he just said who he really was right from the very beginning?

Why had he chosen to play along?

Why was he so annoying yet not so annoying?

Why was he just so...?

Aargh!

Okay, it was official...

'She didn't really like him!'

With her beautiful face now utterly crimson and in a desperate bid to prevent herself from dying due to embarrassment, she hopelessly tried to mimic his very much deep, very much masculine voice...

"Excuse me, who gave you permission to walk right in?"

"Interviewing time is over!"

"Don't be late ever again!"

"I wasn't day dreaming!"

"Yes, SSIIIRRR!"

A very much adorable laugh escaped her lips upon of course miserably failing but that still didn't stop her from mimicking him further and further and just when she was about to fling another pillow against the wall to try curb her immense embarrassment, a gentle knock sounded on the door causing her to fling the pillow at the door instead.

"If it's Hafsa or Husna, I swear I am not in. Also, NO you cannot borrow or use any of my things. You're welcome!"

Not knowing why but deep down, all she really wanted was to be left all alone with her current thoughts and much foreign feelings and when the door still began to open regardless, she quickly grabbed one of her old sneakers from the floor, low key hoping that it was one of her siblings so that she could actually, perfectly aim it at them and that too without any guilt, only for her to quickly throw the shoe behind her back the very second her mother entered the room.

The first thing Maryam did upon entering was to slowly look around her eldest daughter's much disoriented room, a huge frown forming on her face that matched her immense disapproval and when her eyes finally came to settle on her Isma, the frown was immediately replaced with a knowing smile and the very first thing she ended up asking was...

"Were you talking to Yusuf?"

"Who?"

"Yusuf!"

"Nope!"

"Then why would you be blushing so furiously?"

Seeing the one of a kind teasing look on her mother's face, Isma quickly placed her hands over her cheeks wanting to obviously, immediately deny but that only caused more and more blood to involuntarily rush up her face and a tiny gasp couldn't help but escape her lips when she felt how hot they actually were and the only thing she ended up stuttering as a response was...

"I...I...I...No one...I mean it's nobody....I mean it's nothing. I promise!"

Obviously not buying what her daughter was saying, Maryam simply laughed while shaking her head, sat down beside her and then said...

"Really Isma, you are one really lucky girl. Do you know that?"

"Am I?"

"Yes! Absolutely! Without even a single doubt!"

"What makes you say that, Mom?"

"Well, from the way you are furiously blushing, it's quite clear that Yusuf doesn't really refrain from showing you how much he truly loves you."

A sharp pain immediately sliced through every single inch of Isma's heart and she quickly looked away while swallowing bitterly.

Love?

What was love?

Had she really ever experienced love?

Was what she shared with Yusuf, love?

Did love hurt?

Did it give the right to possess and obsess?

Did it use?

Most of all...

Did it break?

Isma's heart immediately clenched as each and every single resentful memory she shared with him came flooding back and she couldn't help but softly whisper...

"Yusuf truly never ever refrains, Mom. He truly never ever refrains!"

"That is exactly what makes you lucky Isma. You have for yourself a man that is mad crazy in love with you. A man who wears his heart on his sleeve just for you. A man so open about his feelings."

"He is indeed, literally very much open about all his feeling for me, Mom. He is indeed, literally open about all his feelings. Love just isn't one of them!"

Maryam was immediately taken aback for a very mere few seconds afterwich she asked, a very strong sense of sternness in her voice...

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said, Mom. Love is the last thing Yusuf makes me fe..."

"When will you ever learn to stop complaining Isma? When will you ever learn to stop wanting more and just learn to be happy with what you have?"

"I can never be happy with Yusuf, Mom!"

"He loves you!"

"I HATE HIM!"

"In fact, I'd rather even die than..."

Not wanting to listen or even try understand the reason behind the enormous amount of venomosity in Isma's voice, Maryam resorted to doing the one thing ever other irresponsible parent did...

"She tightly slapped her right across the face!"

Immense hurt immediately filled Isma's heart, tears staining her eyes and no matter how strong she tried to be to try hold them back, it wasn't long before they continuously began to trickle down her face.

She sadly held on to her painful cheek, stared at her mother with very much sad glistened eyes and then said...

"This is the only thing you and Dad have been doing all my life. This is the only thing..."

"Well then stop acting like a hormonal teenager! You are a grown up woman, Isma! A GROWN UP WOMAN! A grown up woman waiting to get married..."

"Yes! A grown up woman waiting to get married to nothing but a real life SNAKE!"

"ISMAAAA!"

Maryam once again raised her hand to tightly slap her but then stopped it mid-air, a slight bit of guilt consuming her when she saw how frightfully Isma cowered back.

She then let out a long loud sigh and while staring at her daughter who by now was crying her broken heart out, said...

"Isma! Always remember that Yusuf is not just any man for you. He is a man about to become your husband. YOUR HUSBAND. He therefore solely deserves every bit of respect you have. RESPECT. Something you clearly never ever give him..."

"He needs to earn it from me, Mom. He needs to very much earn it!"

"How can he not have earned it already, Isma? How can he not have earned it already? Don't ever forget that he has had strong hidden feelings for you right since childhood. He must have with much difficulty supressed them for many years and when the right time came, he only but did the right thing. He rightfully asked your father for your hand in marriage and your dad..."

"Just said yes, without even asking me for my consent. Without even asking me if I was happy. Who even gave him the right to do that?"

"ISMAAAA! He is your father!"

"Yes, he is my father! My father who just gave me off. Just gave me off to a man who...a man who..."

She greatly stuttered with her words not because she was afraid but because she just couldn't find the right words that could accurately describe Yusuf.

The right words that accurately described how Yusuf really made her feel and after a great amount of struggling, she finally said...

"My father gave me off to a man who makes me do nothing but detest myself!"

"Greatly detest myself!"

"He gave me off to man who touches me. Continuously touches me. Touches me without my consent!"

"A man who continually kisses me. He kisses me on the lips, Mom. He even kisses me on the lips!"

"A man who tried to...he tried to...he tried to...right here in my room. Right here in my very own room!"

She tightly hugged her knees crying to herself, the memories still very much freshly vivid, only for all the blood to literally drain from her face when she heard her mother say...

"Deal with it Isma. Just deal with it, my dear. You have to understand that he is firstly a man. All men are like that. Trust me. Literally all of them. Also, don't forget that he is a man who has waited long enough for you. A man who is still painfully waiting for you for one more year..."

"So that gives him the absolute right do everything wrong?"

"He is going to marry you Isma. It's okay!"

"NO, IT'S NOT OKAY, MOM! NO, IT'S NOT OKAY!"

"Well then if it's not okay then why didn't you simply just say NO? Where did that strong headedness of yours go when it came to saying something as easy as NO?"

NO?

Say NO?

How many times had she told him NO?

How many times had she pleaded her heart out with him?

How many times had she literally begged?

Her heart repeatedly clenched and she quickly grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly, hoping it would give her a sense of comfort only for her heart to further strongly clench when her mother said...

"It's YOUR fault Isma. It's all YOUR fault and NOT his. You are the one who made him wait a whole year..."

"What about my dreams, Mom? What about my dreams?"

"They are not that important!"

"You are a woman, Isma! You are a woman! How many times do I have to remind you that? A woman can never be too ambitious!"

"What are you even going to achieve with your so called dreams? You are going to end up married within less than a year, anyway..."

"Yusuf had promised that I can continue working after marriage!"

Maryam immediately let out a sarcastic laugh, shook her head in disbelief and then said...

"You are a woman, Isma. You are a woman. I just told you this a mere few seconds ago. It's easier said than done. A woman first becomes a wife then a mother. Everything else is secondary. Or do you expect Yusuf to sit at home and take care of your children while you go to pursue your so called dreams? Always remember Isma, always remember...

"Yusuf's dreams should and will become your ONLY dreams."

Isma's heart broke bit by bit listening to every word her mother said and the only thing she ended up whispering and stuttering was...

"I...I ...I don't want this, Mom. I don't want this..."

"Dad...Dad...do you think he might understand?"

"Don't even think of mentioning any of this to him, Isma. He will never believe you. He will only consider you nothing but a disgrace!

"Don't forget you have younger sisters Isma. If he gets to know any of this, he will only but make life harder for them. He has been so open minded about you and Yusuf but because of your stubbornness and cowardice they might probably get to see their husbands on the wedding day itself! It will all be because of you so don't you dare!"

"Do you even know why I came here? I came to give you this! Money! Money that your father sent me to give you for your daily transportation. He is happy that you finally got a job. Don't change how things currently are, Isma. Don't dare change them!"

She then stood up, placed the brown envelope next to Isma who by now had finished crying her heart out and was now expressionlessly staring out into space and then said...

"Isma!"

"Yes, Mom?"

"I still don't understand what you really want to achieve with your so called dreams. Even if you somehow, I don't know how though, manage not to marry Yusuf, you will still end up all alone. All alone with only your dreams. Do you know why Isma? It's because..."

"You are impure now..."

"NO OTHER MAN WILL EVER WANT YOU...

***

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ASALAM ALEIKUM.