Veritas

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
𝓢tanding in a dimly lit corner of the venue, pacing myself and listening to Fariha bicker, I could not shake the feeling of doom. Something ominous was about to happen. Paranoia struck, lacing every thought until I could not even enjoy a conversation with my best friend.
                          
He did not know how seeing that woman's hands on his flesh lit my skin on fire, pumping venomous fury through my veins. Control swept through me, keeping me from stalking over to where she held herself in front of him. Her body curving towards him. I was barely hanging on to my sanity, I felt it slipping away, possessiveness clawing its way up my spine. An unwelcome tsunami of red-hot jealousy I had no business allowing, but could not seem to extinguish. 
                          
"Daania?"
                          
"What?"
                          
"You're clenching your teeth."
                          
"I'm fine," the gentle music at the back reminded me that time had, in fact, passed since my staring had begun. 
                          
Since I saw her. 
                          
I felt like a dead woman right now; life happened around me but I wasn't living. Or experiencing any of it.
                          
"You're also glaring at your husband like you want to skin him alive."
                          
"That's not true," she was wearing a royal blue silk sari. Porcelain skin. Bright under the full moon. Vibrant. With a halter neck blouse. Backless. I saw the long, curled ends of her hair, draped over one shoulder as she stood still, her back half to me. She was just so beautiful.
                          
I could sense Fariha's eyes on me reading and analyzing every expression.
                          
"I arrived a couple of hours ago and we haven't had the chance to catch up. What is going on between the two of you?"
                          
"Nothing."
                          
"Liar," jealousy and guilt cinched my stomach in a vise. 
                          
"Don't push it Fariha," not now, when I was trying not to focus on the stunning tall brunette. Who was she? And why was she so familiar with him? Why was he talking to her?
                          
"Yeah, because the look you're giving them right now isn't concerning at all," I looked over at her.
                          
"Shut up. That's just how I look."
                          
She coughed out a laugh, bringing her drink to her lips, unreservedly amused by my continued bad mood. 
                          
"Look Daania, if it's bothering you so much, why don't you just go to your husband?"
                          
"I can't do that."
                          
"Of course you can. You can go over and lay your claim over him. He's your husband."
                          
My daze cleared as I focused intently on her.
                          
"And that wouldn't make me look like a possessive insecure wife?" 
                          
"I mean," she cleared her throat. "It makes you look like a wife."
                          
"I don't want to overreact. This feels like overreacting."