The second book in the 'Unconditionally' series.
They say we get over childhood crushes as we grow up.
But what if the childhood crush develops into something so deep that it's irrevocable?
I've read many stories, but only fictions have happy endin...
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Haya
I sat on the window seat of my room, staring out at the grey cloudy afternoon. It was strange how the smallest of things made you feel homesick. I was at home, and yet I felt like I had already left, the way my heart felt heavy.
I was pondering more and more with each passing day about what my married life was going to be like. And which each thought I wondered how I would manage it. I had generally lived a very responsibility-free life.
"Behaya?" Ro's voice came from the other side of my door.
"Come in."
The door opened and he walked in, before once again shutting the door behind him. He slowly trudged towards me and took a seat beside me on the window seat. "What are we doing for Arsal's birthday?"
I blinked at him in surprise. I had completely forgotten about our youngest brother's upcoming birthday, between everything that had been going on. "How could I forget?"
He shook his head. "I think we all did."
"What should we do?" I asked.
"Get his Nikah done?" He weakly joked.
I punched his arm. "Idiot."
He laughed. "Seriously, man. Last time we went to Scotland for the weekend to spend his birthday, with Mamu's family, but Papa couldn't be there. We need everyone to be here this time. He's entering his second decade after all, Ma Sha Allah."
"What do we do for the birthday of the family's official Mama's boy?" I wondered out loud.
*
Arsalan
Twenty.
It sounded like a large number, yet simultaneously it fell like nothing. I felt like a grown up, yet a child at the same time. Old enough to fall in love, but to young to handle its halal responsibilities.
Yet the thought of Tahira haunted me like an adamant spirit that refused to let go at any cost.
"Love sucks." I muttered, attempting to toss a basketball through the hoop in the back garden of our home. Giving up after failing three times, I walked over to the bench and pulled my phone out of my pocket.
