The Hijabi's Best Mistake

👑Chapter 69👑 Trial

{Chapter edited by the lovely duchessoftheclouds}

🌟Chapter dedication goes to descendant-girl🌟

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👑Brysons POV👑

I looked at my reflection from the mirror. I gave myself a stern look before turning my wheelchair around.

I had my black suit on with a casual white tie. My hair was getting longer, which I didn't have enough time to go to the barber for. I opted for slicking it back and shaving my face clean.

I wheeled my chair around my room trying to clear my mind of all negative things. The clock read 8:30 am, I had another 30 minutes till my mum took me to court.

I rolled over to my computer and did the only thing that could calm my nerves.

The voice of Mishary Rashid Alafasy played. He was hands down one of my favorite Quran (holy book) readers. The surah (section) of the Quran (holy book) played as my head rolled back.

I closed my eyes, feeling my soul being somewhat reinvented.

I heard my door slowly creak open.

“Octavius?” my mum’s voice rang on my ears.

My eyes widened as I wheeled over to my computer as fast as I could. I shut my laptop quickly, making the surah (section) stop playing.

“Jeez mum, ever heard of knocking?” I asked, widening my eyes at her.

“Oh, I'm sorry honey, I didn’t realize you were-"

“What if I was changing?” I asked.

“Don't be silly, Octavius. I've seen everything, honey, don't forget I changed your diapers,” she said waving her finger at me.

I smacked my forehead. “That was years ago. Not the same thing, mum."

“Fine,” she sighed, looking at me with sorrowful eyes. “I'll knock next time,” she smiled.

“Thank you."

“If I remember,” she mumbled under her breath.

I turned my head towards her as she giggled. I knew she was trying to lighten up the mood. But it didn't work, because at the end of the day I had to go to court today.

“What were you listening to?” she asked, sitting on my bed.

I scratched the back of neck and looked away.
“Just something new,” I said.

She nodded, looking at my laptop suspiciously.
“It sure did sound different,” she added.

I groaned. “Because it was.”

Was I ashamed of telling her I was interested in Islam? I didn't know the answer to that. Maybe I was a little scared.

My mother grew up in a small town where Christianity was brought up in her family. They were the typical white family that went to church to on Sundays and worshiped God. Once my mother met my father, though, everything changed.

A man that grew up in the city found interest in a country girl who grew up to always love God and obey His rules. It was different for her to adjust, but she did. She became the house wife for a long time, and was constantly being dragged behind my dad in his meetings.