One Shot Collection #2

25 - Beneath the Desert Stars

The desert has a way of hiding secrets, but the love between Najma al-Fahad and Imran Zayed could not remain concealed forever. In the heart of Saudi Arabia, their love story unfolded—one built on whispers, faith, and rebellion against the weight of tradition.

Two years after their escape from Riyadh, Najma stood on the balcony of their modest apartment in Jeddah, the salty sea breeze gently ruffling her loose scarf. She gazed at the bustling city below, her heart full but heavy. It had been two years since she last saw her family—two years since she defied her father and left the life of privilege she once knew. Though she had found love and peace with Imran, her heart still ached for the family she had left behind.

Inside the apartment, Imran was working on architectural plans. His career had flourished, and his work now graced the skyline of Jeddah. But despite his success, he remained humble, a man of simple needs, content in the life they had built together.

Najma smiled as she watched him through the window. He had been her rock through everything—the late-night conversations, the sleepless nights filled with doubt, and the moments when the burden of her decision felt too much to bear. He was the calm to her storm, and for that, she loved him even more.

But tonight, something stirred in her heart. The past had a way of resurfacing, no matter how far she tried to run from it.

As Najma stepped inside, Imran looked up from his work and immediately noticed the pensive expression on her face.

"What's on your mind, my love?" he asked, setting down his pen and walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Najma sighed, leaning into his embrace. "I got a letter today," she said softly.

Imran's brow furrowed in concern. "From who?"

"My father." Najma's voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "He...he wants to meet. He says he's sorry."

Imran's grip tightened around her, his voice gentle yet firm. "Najma, are you ready for that? After everything that happened?"

Najma pulled away slightly, turning to face him. Her grey eyes, usually filled with warmth, were clouded with uncertainty. "I don't know, Imran. Part of me feels like I should go, like I need to close this chapter. But the other part...I'm scared. What if he still doesn't accept us?"

Imran cupped her face in his hands, his gaze steady and unwavering. "You've always been braver than you give yourself credit for. Whatever happens, we'll face it together. You're not alone."

Najma blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, her heart swelling with love for the man who had been her constant through all the uncertainty. "Thank you," she whispered.

The day of the meeting arrived, and Najma found herself back in Riyadh for the first time since her departure. The city felt both familiar and foreign, the weight of her past pressing down on her as they drove toward her family home. Imran sat beside her in the car, his hand resting reassuringly on hers. He didn't say much, but his presence was enough to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

When they arrived at the al-Fahad residence, Najma's heart raced. Memories of her childhood flooded her mind—memories of laughter, family dinners, and the stern but loving guidance of her father. She had been his pride and joy once. What would he think of her now?

The front door opened before they could knock, and there stood Ahmed al-Fahad, a man who had aged far more than the two years of their separation should have allowed. His face was drawn with sorrow and regret, his once firm posture now slightly stooped. Behind him stood Aisha, her mother, who smiled softly through teary eyes, as if to say she had missed her daughter more than words could express.