Love Me, Mikayla

III

MIKAYLA

. . .

Pushing away my hair, I walk towards my car. The underground area is not as cool as the wideway outside. My feet walk in urgency because I wish to leave as soon as possible.

Especially after the nonsense that's been done in the meeting.

What's even special here? I came to him, thinking that he might understand my concern and agree to deny his parents. If he can't understand me then at least see that we can't fit together but I wonder what's wrong with this guy.

Is he right in his head?

I push my hand into my bag in search of the key when he stops me from behind, calling out my name, "Mikayla."

I turn around, giving him a cold look.

Sharp and cold eyes set on me, he comes to me, his walk dominant and graceful. I have noticed it before because he always induced such sharpness in his features and charms of his movements that nobody could deny, let alone ignore.

"Aunt Damaris called me," Mama has grown this obsession of contacting him every time.

How lovely. She is already behaving like he has become her son-in-law and this man is also behaving like her pyare damad ji.

His eyes, for a fleeting moment, linger over my car and then fixing them on my face, he says, "Asked me to take you somewhere after our conversation."

"She could've called me," I don't hide my anger as it flares up in a moment. We are not even married yet and my Mama is beginning to call him for such minor wishes. Am I not her daughter anymore?

"She said you're not answering her calls."

I quickly check my phone and realize it's on silent mode.

Okay, I am still her daughter.

"So what have you planned?" I put my phone back into my purse. I look up at him, pushing my hair back as it curtain the side of my face because of the cold and rough breeze passing.

His eyes drink in the movement and I roll my eyes.

He doesn't have to notice everything though I know I attract that attention.

"Let's go to church."

Already?

｡ﾉ⁠♡

I left my car there under watch while now I am standing in front of the church. It's not Sunday so I know there would be no crowd inside the building. I behold the house of the Lord, ready to walk inside without Blondie.

But he comes beside me and holds my hand.

I gave him a stink eye though deep down, I felt a sense of relief at the touch of his warm hand.

"Is it a crime?" He looks back, "To hold your hand?"

I roll my eyes. "No." Why is he being so jolly?

He smiles at me, a dip in his cheek appearing. I avert my gaze from his tempting features. He always had dimples — another reason for my jealousy. But now that I have grown up, I am not jealous.

We walk inside the peaceful place. It's been years since I have visited church but still, my heart finds peace being inside the house of God like it used to happen when I was a kid.

The building is almost empty except for the priest who stands in service of the Lord and a few people who stand in front of the altar, praying.

Seeing other women and remembering how my Mama and other virgins used to stand inside the church, I cover my head, though I am not even a virgin.