Married to a sheikh

PART TWO- PROLOGUE

Most probably my last update before Ramadan Kareem. I may update once in between or not depends really but don't give up on me or MTAS for the next month coz I love you guys and thank you for all your support throughout as I said before you are all the best readers on wattpad.

XOXO
Fatima =)

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PROLOGUE
FIVE YEARS LATER : (Yup you guessed it right ;) )

I lay the magazine I was reading face down on the table. The news today seemed to get to me. It had been years since I practically thought about him but today ; I felt weak and lost.... Alone, would be a more appropriate word.

It had been five years since I had left that place. It took me a year but I had finally moved on. Life didn't wait for anyone,It just went on. I was alive and breathing. His words had killed me that day,But that day was a memory I had shoved at the back of my mind. I didn't need the blackness in my life ,If I remembered that day again I would breakdown the way I had,I had almost lost the life inside me those few days and I had been taking anti-depressants ever since.

It was a scar that would never heal.

The dark days which followed after Omar kicked me out. One moment I would cry and one moment I would laugh out loud. My parents thought I had lost it so I had to go and see a shrink for six months till I got better.

When I had taught myself not to remember his name it had to fly out of those pages and had to hit me right on my face. I didn't care. Not a bit. I hated him and I hated myself because I had given my heart to a heartless man. I remember the times I had tried to call him to inform him about my pregnancy progress but the call always went straight to voice mail,after a year I gave up expecting for him to call me and apologise.

I could thank Omar only for one thing,His throwing me out had given me one thing.

Independence.

I had to strive and stand on my own feet to be independent,to provide for myself and the life that lived inside me. My parents didn't want me to leave but I had to. How could I live in London when I had so many memories connected to it? So many memories connected to the man I despised.

When my shrink announced that I was stable enough and wouldn't do anything to hurt my own baby. Yes, My breakdowns ran through numerous occasions where I had tried to drown myself or throw myself in front of the traffic. I had even tried to slit the nerves on my wrist. I wasn't stable then. Like my mother had said I really had lost it but today......

I was me.

An independant woman and a mother.

I was proud of what my life had forced me to be .

Today I was a woman who didn't care about what Sheikh Omar Abdullah did with his life till now that is.

I felt the pain inside me as I took the magazine in my hand again. It was a picture of Omar in his traditional Emirati clothes. The caption read;

'Sheikh Omar Abdullah Announces his engagement.'

It was not that he was engaged but it was the fact that he was going to marry none other than Sawsan. The woman who despised me and I despised in return. The woman whom I came to know had ruined my life.

I was looking at the picture so intensely that I didn't realise a body get cozy next to me.

"Dad!" The toddler shouted as he looked at he picture.

I looked up at the boy next to me. An everyday reminder that I had once shared a life with Omar Abdullah.

"Yes" I agreed closing the magazine.

I had never hidden the fact from my child that Omar was his father or the fact that we did not live with each other anymore. My son understood that he had a father but had no share in his life.

His dirty blonde hair fell on his blue eyes. His features were exactly if that of Omars. Except for his hair which was a mix of ours and his eyes which were mine. He had turned four a few months back,It astonished me the way time flew.

"You brushed your teeth?" I questioned.

Ignoring me he threw a question of his own
"Why doesn't dad come to meet me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Why don't we have a glass of milk with some cookies and go to that park you wanted to go to yesterday?"

I asked earning a cheer from him.

"Not milk,I want hot chocolate mumma." He replied.

I stood still. Hot chocolate was a beverage I hated the most.

"What about I make you some Hershey's chocolate milkshake?" I asked in a pleading tone.

"You know mumma?" He said.

."Yeah?"

"You're a soccer rocker!" He hummed and I laughed. He loved that song to bits. It was his way of saying that I'm cool.

"You're a soccer rocker and you rock at soccer" I played around with him. I guess when you live in The United States Of America you get used to hearing your kids say Soccer instead of football.

After making his promised shake and eating cookies with him we headed to the park to spend our lonely Sunday.

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