When opposites attract, magic happens!
Discover the captivating love story of Adyan and Kaltoom, two people who defied expectations and found love in the most unexpected way.....
From reluctant acquaintances to passionate lovers, Adyan and Kaltoom'...
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Kaltoom Kabir Humaydh
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Kaltoom's mother stood in the doorway, her voice laced with gentle irritation. "Kaltoom, rise and shine! You're not a princess, you know."
With a swift tug, she drew the curtains apart, letting sunlight pour into the room like liquid gold. The light fell across Kaltoom's face, making her stir and groan as she rubbed her eyes.
"Ammi..." she mumbled, her voice husky from sleep. "What time is it?"
Her mother sank onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. "Almost noon, young lady. I sent Shatu twice to wake you, but as usual you wait for me."
Kaltoom sat up slowly, stretching her arms above her head like a spoiled cat. "Sorry, Ammi. I just needed a little extra sleep after fajr."
Her mother arched a brow, lips twitching. "Extra sleep? Well done, Minister of Enjoyment."
Kaltoom broke into a giggle, but her mother's firmness soon returned. "Get up, shower, and meet me downstairs in an hour. Your first class begins today."
"Do I have to?" Kaltoom whined, collapsing dramatically back into the pillows.
"Yes, you do." Her mother's tone left no room for debate. With that, she rose gracefully and walked out.
Kaltoom pouted, her voice rising in a mock cry. "Fine, Ammi. I'll be down."
Kaltoom had always promised herself she'd become an early riser,one of those disciplined girls who woke before the sun, serene and organized. But reality betrayed her every time. Alarms were snoozed, minutes melted into hours, and eventually, Ammi herself would storm in, saving her from her own laziness.
As the youngest and only daughter of the Humaydh family, Kaltoom was cushioned in a cocoon of indulgence. Her laughter was everyone's joy, her tantrums dismissed as childish whims. To her father and brothers, she was the princess of the house, untouchable, flawless in their eyes. But among all that softness, one hand remained steady: Ammi's. Where others overlooked, her mother corrected. Where others excused, her mother anchored.
This morning was no different.
"You do remember today is your first day at college?" her mother teased, pausing at the doorway once more. "I believe lectures start at one."
Kaltoom's eyes widened in mock horror. "Ammi! Don't tell me you've seen my timetable!"
Her mother winked mischievously. "Or maybe we just keep quiet about it." With that, she disappeared, leaving Kaltoom gaping.
Kaltoom threw herself out of bed, her brown-dyed hair flying in disarray, lips pursed into an exaggerated pout. She looked like an adorable, angry kitten both frustrated and undeniably cute.
⸻
Kaltoom was, without doubt, a beauty born of blended heritage. Her Shuwa Arab and Fulani roots gave her a golden glow, skin kissed with warmth. Delicate yet bold features framed her face arched brows, thick lashes, a small nose, and lips that naturally pouted as though sulking at the world. Her large brown eyes brimmed with mischief, laughter, and sometimes tears.
At twenty-one, her petite frame carried both innocence and charm, making her appear younger than she was. But beneath her youthful looks pulsed a lively, magnetic personality complex, spoiled, sweet, and untamed.
Her brothers adored her in their own ways. Farouk, the eldest at twenty-six, was the polished one,the CEO, the success story. Yet with Kaltoom, he shed the title, becoming simply the protective big brother, eager to make her laugh. Khalid, twenty-four, was the charmer,the free spirit studying architecture in Paris. He teased her mercilessly, but behind his playful remarks lay genuine care, always looking out for his little sister.
Their father, Alhaji Kabir, was the quiet strength of the family,calm, kind, endlessly indulgent with his daughter. And her mother, Mrs. Fatima, the elegant entrepreneur, was the balance. Where Alhaji showered her with ease, Fatima placed limits. Where her brothers pampered, her mother corrected.
Kaltoom loved them all, but Ammi's rules were the only thorn in her rose-garden life.
⸻
An hour later, Kaltoom breezed into the sitting room, her damp hair falling in loose waves. She plopped onto the couch, picked up her plate of pancakes, and ate with exaggerated leisure, completely unbothered about being late for class.
Sweetness melted on her tongue. Pancakes were her weakness, her little escape. She had once vowed to diet, but mornings like this proved her powerless. She laughed at herself. A foodie through and through.
With a satisfied smile, she finally rose, kissed her mother's cheek, and skipped out the door. Driving away, she whispered, "Hasbiyallah," under her breath. Positive energy only—that was her mantra. Music filled the car, wind lifted her spirits, and for that moment, life felt like hers to conquer.
