Under That Niqab

19. Divulging the past

"I told you, didn't I?" Haya said, attempting to ease the tension that had built up, though she didn't know why. She opened the car door with a soft sigh, her mind wandering.

After office hours were over, Shavez had convinced her to consult a doctor, despite her many protests. Reluctantly, she agreed. The doctor assured her she was fine and just needed some rest.

However, after her check-up, Shavez had business with the same doctor, Dr. Suzie, who also treated his mother. Haya was asked to excuse herself.

She waited in the lounge and after a few minutes, her eyes caught the hints of distress on Shavez's forehead as he emerged from the room.

He said nothing but, "I'll get the car," before heading out. And now, here they were, on their way back.

"Hm?" he responded absentmindedly.

"You were worried unnecessarily," she said, turning to look at him. The lines on his forehead remained, even as he started the car. He looked so good in her eyes, so good that she wanted to tell him how much she appreciated all he did for her.

She wanted to reach out and smooth those lines, ask him what was wrong. Something definitely was. The doctor must have said something troubling. She immediately looked away, unable to bear the worry in his eyes.

He just hummed in response.

"Is everything alright?"

"It is," he nodded. Then there was silence. A silence of words but chaos of minds.

"Ice cream, maybe?" he asked, breaking the quiet, and sparing a glance at her.

"No, not today. I have to head back home soon. There are things to sort out," she said.

"Oh, okay... A few minutes, then?"

She gave him a questioning look.

"I'm asking for a few minutes of yours."

"Sure, tell me," she said, curiosity growing in her.

He stopped the car on the side of a bridge in the mild darkness of the night, increasing her curiosity.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice.

"That is exactly what I want to know." He turned to focus on her completely. At that moment, nothing else mattered – not the rushing cars behind them, not the occasional honking, not the voices of teenagers shouting and enjoying. Just her, seated in front of him, and the questions he wanted answers to.

"I don't understand," she said, playing with a small white pearl hooked to the golden chain on her bag.

"You know, the panic attack you had earlier was not the first time. How many times has it happened before?"

"What?" Her breath hitched. "I-I don't know. I don't remember." She dropped the chain, which fell to the side of the bag, and pressed her nails into her palm, forming a fist.

"You don't?"

"I really don't know, and I don't think it happened before. Who told you that?" Her nails went deeper into her palm.

"Dr. Suzie. She wouldn't lie, would she?" Shavez raised an eyebrow, to which she didn't respond. "I know I'm not your best friend or anything, but Haya, I know your past haunts you, and I desperately want to know about it. I'm being very straightforward, I know, and you don't owe me anything. But I really want to know, please." He was practically begging her.

"I-I..." Haya wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt too heavy.

They weighed tons and were scattered... she couldn't gather them. She didn't know what to tell or how to tell. She couldn't just open up to him because she was afraid. Afraid of the damage he could find or the damage he could do.