Swipe Of Love

♕ A N T O N I A P O V ♕ Omar has grown into a tall young man with golden brown eyes and brownish hair. He is well built; he loves to body build and is obsessed with it, but not that too much. He is very handsome, and his handsomeness came totally from me. Not that Walid loser. He is the sweetest boy in the world. Whenever he comes home, his eyes held nothing but a gentle expression. He always greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. Alhamdulillah, I am happy with my son. I have moved back to Paris. Bangladesh is a beautiful place; it has the most beautiful place you can ever imagine, but it wasn't suitable for Omar. Like I said before, with the help of my family, I was able to expand my company. My business is the largest, well-known business in the world. Higher than Mr. Walid Khan. I didn't even know that I could ever be way better than his company, in all honesty. The day I moved back to Paris, I went to the most well-known lawyer in Paris, and got her to fix my divorce papers. She is an excellent lawyer and a busy woman. Getting hold of her due to her busy schedule is challenging. She got straight to work. She sends me the papers in three days. I send them to him the day after. However, the funny thing is that he never return those papers. I don't know what that guy wants from me. He already chose his second wife over us. So what now? I am still waiting for the papers; it seems like they will never be in my hand. Men. I can never understand them. I stepped out of my room and walked into Omar's room. Every morning, I struggle to wake Omar up. He doesn't want to get up from his bed, and all the late-night football practices drain all his energy. He comes home looking like a zombie. My baby, working so hard for his future. I am very proud of him. I placed my hand on the doorknob and gently pushed it open. As soon as I stepped inside the room, I saw cloth everywhere, last night's practice clothes on top of the dresser, his books on the floor, and his x-box is on the ground. It was a disaster walking into his room. Ya Allah! What is wrong with this boy? He uses to be so clean, but now, he is messy. I carefully walked up to the bed, trying not to trip on something. I smiled as I watch my little boy sleep peacefully. He was sleeping on his stomach; his hair was messy. He sleeps just like his father. I sat down next to him and ran my hand through his hair. A soft sigh left my mouth. "Omar. My lovely, cute son. It's time to get up," I shook his shoulder gently. "Mom, five more minutes," he groaned, flipping over the left side of the bed. "Mr. Omar Kateb, if you don't wake your lazy butt off the bed right now," I warned, standing up from the bed. "Okay! Okay, I'm getting up. Allah! Can't a kid sleep peacefully?" he mumbled, getting up. "Well, technically, you're not a 'kid.' You're a young adult," I smiled. I watch as he lifts his arm to give them a good stretch. In the process of bringing his hands down, he rubbed his eyes while releasing a big yawn. Ya Allah, he looks cute. MashAllah. I remember when he was only 2yrs old. He was crying for chocolate, and I couldn't stand seeing him cry. I just couldn't. So I gave him chocolate; He ate all the chocolate, but the cute part is that his mouth, covered with chocolate. His smile showing his two front teeth. He looked loveable. He rolled over to the other side of the bed and walked toward the bathroom. On the way to the bathroom, he grabbed a red towel that was handing on the door. I looked around the room. A sigh left my mouth in annoyance. I have to clean after him every day. This has to stop. We need some rules in this house. I bent down to pick up all his stinking clothes and his game CD. Why do men's smell so bad? I pinched my nose to prevent myself from inhaling the gross aroma. When will he learn how to take care of himself? After being done with the cleaning, I stood up and looked around the room. I smiled, seeing the place cleaned. Satisfied. Thank Allah, It looks much better now. I walked down to the kitchen and dragged my body to the fridge. All the late-night paperwork exhausted me to death. I need to quit this habit of staying up all night. You see, the only reason; I do my work late at night was because I procrastinate. A lot. I tell myself that I will do them but never do. It never happens. New Year resolution: stop procrastinating. What to cook? What to cook? I thought to myself. My brain light bulbs light up. Since I don't have that much time in my hand, I will make scrambled eggs, smoothies, and Cinnamon Rolls. I grabbed some eggs, strawberry, yogurt, and milk. I also grabbed the other things that needed to make Cinnamon Rolls. I quickly grabbed a frying pan and made scrambled eggs. I blended the strawberry, yogurt, and milk to make the smoothie. A couple of minutes later, I was done with cooking. I grabbed two plates and put the scrambled eggs in each place. I purred smoothly in the glass and picked the two plates, and went to the dining room. I put it on the table. I went into the living room to grab my office back. Crap! I forgot about the Cinnamon Rolls. It's Omar's favorite food to eat right in the morning. I exited the room to see Omar bring the Cinnamon Rolls on the plate. He smiled at me and put the dishes on the table. He walked up to me and hugged me tightly. "Good Morning, mommy," he smiled, kissing my forehead, "I miss you, mommy." "Good morning, my chubby bear. I miss you too," I spoke, returning a kiss on the cheek. Now, wait for it. Wait for it. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Now! "Mom! How many times do I have to tell you that don't work yourself up? You need some breaks. I am worried about you, mom. You work too much," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I don't work, who will feed you, clothe you, and give you a place to stay," I tried to explain, walking toward my chair. "How about this? I make lunch and dinner when I come back from school and practice. You only go to work, but don't stress yourself too much," he stated. "But-" "No, but mommy. Now, do we have a deal or what?" he declared. "Okay. Fine, we have a deal," I shook Omar's hand. "Okay, now let's get eating," he smiled. I raised my eyebrow, and he looked at me, "What?" "You need to work on your sentence a little bit more," I answered. "Very funny," he mocked. "Did you mock me? And I know I am funny," I smirked. Omar pulled the chair out for me to sit. I thanked him and sat on the chair, and he sat on the opposite of me. I grabbed my spoons and read Bismillah before putting the food on my plate. Omar, however, started to look at me and then back at his food. He was playing around with his food. Something is bothering him. "Omar. Do you need to tell me something?" I cautiously asked him. This isn't usually like him. "Mom...something's been bothering me," he moved his fork around the plate. "Yeah? I am listening," I respond after chewing my food. "Mom...What will happen if dad comes home? What will you do if my so-called father comes back to you?" he spat the word father in disgust. My chewing stopped as I looked at him. He gazed at me, clearly waiting for my answer. He asked the question that I was afraid of answering. The question that I never thought he would ever ask. Why did he ask that question all of a sudden? What is going on that head of his? He never talked about his father before. He would ignore that topic. Why had the sudden change? "Well...."