𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ✓

-12-

After the dinner at Siddique's house and the shocking revelation from my father, I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had been said. The drive home was silent, each of us lost in our thoughts. My father's words echoed in my mind: the promise made by Siddique's father before his demise, and how my hand had been promised to Siddique. I felt a rush of confusion and pressure, wondering how I could make such a significant decision about my future.

When we arrived home, my mother gently squeezed my shoulder, offering a comforting smile. "Take your time, Naaz. It's a lot to take in."

I nodded, grateful for her understanding. "I will, Mom. Thanks."

I headed to my room, needing space to think. As I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. The image of Siddique's face, his eyes filled with both hope and uncertainty, flashed before me. How could I make a decision that would impact both of our lives so profoundly?

I changed into my pajamas and sat on my bed, staring at my phone. Messages from friends and notifications from social media went unread. Instead, my mind kept drifting back to Siddique, to the way he had looked at me tonight, to his words: "Naaz, whatever you decide, I'll respect it. This is about both of us, not just a promise made long ago."

I felt a mixture of emotions—confusion, pressure, but also a hint of something else. Did I have feelings for Siddique? Could I see him as more than just a friend? The thought made my heart flutter, but I quickly pushed it aside. There was too much at stake to let emotions cloud my judgment.

As I lay back on my bed, my mind wandered back to our childhood. I remembered the first time we met, how he had protected me from a bully, and how we had become inseparable since then. Could our friendship really transform into something more?

The next morning, I woke up with a renewed sense of determination. I needed to talk to someone who knew both Siddique and me well, someone who could offer unbiased advice. My first thought was Rahman Uncle, Siddique’s old family employee who had been like a father figure to him.

I decided to pay him a visit. After getting dressed, I headed out, telling my parents I'd be back later. They seemed to understand, giving me space to figure things out.

As I walked toward Siddique's shop, I rehearsed what I would say to Rahman Uncle. When I arrived, he greeted me with his usual warm smile. Fortunately, Siddique wasn’t at the shop at the moment.

"Naaz, it's good to see you. How are you?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"I'm okay, Rahman Uncle. I actually wanted to talk to you about something important. Can we sit down?"