A Drop of an Eyelash

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 01, 2018

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Submitted: June 30, 2018



  • Chapter 4: The Canvas


It was 7:02 am on a Sunday morning.

Hamzah woke up naturally to see his beautiful wife curled out in front of him. The sunlight hit Ruqaiyah’s soft face and he could see the beams of light illuminating every eyelash. As he watched her, Ruqaiyah turned her face away from the window and simultaneously reached out for him. “She knows I’m there without even seeing me.” he thought, as the touch of her dainty fingers warmed his heart. Hamzah mentally replayed the scene of Ruqaiyah telling him the best news of his life while Ruqaiyah sucked her teeth in her sleep.


. The sweet moment of adoration quickly passed as he turned towards his phone. “3 missed calls from 617-375-4729” Hamzah was first confused at who could be calling him so early in the morning. He went straight to his text messages and found the culprit, a message from Ikram: “Hey boo! Remona came over last night and told me you never picked up the canvasses. I just forwarded her your number so please set that up. We’d have so fun making our own art ;)” “My god.”  he thought, remarking at Ikram’s naivete and at the chaotic dilemma he had just catapulted himself in.


With this sudden realization of Remona’s threats, Hamzah decided to focus on the important and be there for his wife. He couldn’t help being confused, however. Maybe he did look a little too hard at her in her apartment the other night, but the conversation was mostly friendly. Within seconds, he remembered how impressed he was at both the shape of her legs and the innate confidence and forwardness she exuded. Hamzah shook his head. That didn’t matter to him anymore. It shouldn’t have: she was trying to blackmail him, or so he thought. Despite the ever growing anxiety from this news, Ruqaiyah was there, pregnant with his first child, and he needed to be present. As Ruqaiyah laid there angelic like, Hamzah went to capture this beautiful moment, but realized he didn’t want to look at his own phone again. He reached for Ruqaiyah found under her pillow, she always left it there, uncharged as she was scared of the possible radioactivity. As he grabbed her rose-gold iPhone, Hamzah couldn’t notice the WhatsApp messages appearing on her screen. They were abundant. He quickly shook that thought away and chuckled to himself a little bit. There’s no way his loving wife would ever think of such a thing. He slid right with his index finger and with a few camera shutters, captured the peaceful sleeping beauty.


Another notification from WhatsApp. This time, Hamzah zoned in on who was sending the messages. “Atif?” Hamzah whispered to himself. “Must be a cousin or something” he said as he skimmed over the various ‘smt’s and ‘LOL’s they were sending each other. Although Hamzah knew in his heart any inappropriate exchange wouldn’t occur with his wife, he still felt a slither of jealousy. Within seconds, his wife had woken up, locked eyes with him, and they both chuckled at each other. “How’s my beautiful pregnant wife doing?” Ruqaiyah laughed. “You’re so corny sometimes” she said, as she playfully reached for her phone. “What do you want miss? This little thing?” Hamzah asked menacingly. “Give it to me!” Ruqaiyah childishly wailed. She jumped on top of him with full valor and wrestled all morning, the both of them ignoring their pinging phones.


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