• Khan Series 1 •
MAIN FEMALE CHARACTER'S NAME WAS CHANGED TO → Antonia Kateb
Meet 19-Year-old Antonia Kateb, who is getting married to her childhood best friend, Walid. Walid left her with a broken heart when she was in high school. The most shocki...
I'm in my Foundation of Technology class, listening to Mr. Collins, who might just be the funniest teacher I've ever had. Even though he's probably fifty or so, we're practically buddies, which makes his lessons the highlight of my week. Just as he starts one of his classic jokes, my phone vibrates in my bag. It's my cousin, Robia. Odd... she never calls me during class.
I raise my hand and wait until Mr. Collins pauses and asks, "Can I take this call? It's really important."
"Of course, Antonia." He smiles, though I can see his concern. I nod gratefully and step out of class, pressing the phone to my ear.
"Assalamu'alaikum?"
"Antonia! You have to come quickly. It's Grandma!" Robia's voice is frantic, which makes my stomach tighten.
"What happened? Is she alright?" My heart pounds. Grandma's had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy since her twenties, and I make dua every day for her health.
"I don't know exactly. Grandma just says she needs to talk to you. Hurry!" Robia's voice is strained.
"I'm on my way," I say firmly, hanging up. After grabbing my bag from the classroom, I explain the situation to Mr. Collins, who nods understandingly and head out to find Kathy.
"Can I borrow your car? I'll explain later, I promise," I ask, my voice barely steady.
"Of course," she says, handing me the keys without hesitation. "Be careful, okay?"
"Thanks. I owe you big time." I squeeze her in a quick hug and hurry out to the parking lot. Just as I reach the car, I catch sight of him—the jerk who ruined my skirt. He's leaning against a car a few spaces down, smirking at me as I open the door.
Not today, buddy. Not today, I think, rolling my eyes. I don't have time for this. But as I pulled out, I noticed he was following me, his car steady in my rearview mirror. My heart races, and I press down on the gas pedal, trying to shake him.
Ya Allah, what does he want with me?
Finally, I arrived at my grandmother's house. Slamming the car door, I make a beeline for the front door, not stopping until I burst into the living room—only to find Grandma laughing, looking perfectly fine as she chats with Robia.
My mouth falls open. Ya Allah, is this a joke?
"You have got to be kidding me," I say, exasperation pouring out. "I was worried sick!"
Robia raises her hands, looking a little guilty. "Hey, it was Grandma's idea, not mine!"
"So, Grandma, what was so urgent that I had to come all the way from campus?" I ask, crossing my arms, trying to hide my relief that she's okay.
"My dear, you've grown up so beautifully," she says, softly taking my hand. "And now, it's time for you to get married! I know the perfect boy—handsome, successful, and very much in love with you."
My eyes go wide. "Whoa, slow down, Grandma. I'm in university—it's only my first year! Who is this 'perfect boy' anyway?"
She pats my hand. "Oh, he's the CEO of his own company. Plus, you know him well. He says he's loved you his whole life."
I stare, not sure whether to laugh or argue. Is she serious? "And who is this mystery man?"
Before she can answer, Robia smirks. "Don't turn around yet... Now you can turn around."
Rolling my eyes, I twist around to humor her. But when I see who's standing there, my heart stops.
No way. It's him—the coffee-spilling jerk from campus.
"What are you doing here?" I demand, feeling my cheeks go hot. This cannot be happening.
He takes a step closer, and that familiar smirk returns. "I'm here to see my fiancée."
My mouth drops open. "Wait—fiancée? Are you saying you came here to see me?"
"That's right, beta," my father says from behind me, entering the room with a look of satisfaction. And with him is my entire family, all watching with expectant smiles.
I cross my arms, shaking my head. "I'm not marrying someone I don't even know!" I huff, trying to resist the growing dread. This man is basically a stranger!
Khalid steps forward, smirking as he claps a hand on the jerk's shoulder. "Actually, little sister, you do know him."
"What's with all the smirking? No, I don't know him," I insist, glancing between my brother and the guy.
"Assalamu'alaikum, Antonia," a familiar voice says gently. I turn around, and my heart twists. Auntie Rehana, my middle school best friend's mother, is here too.
I throw my arms around her. "I missed you so much," I whisper, feeling tears pricking my eyes.
"Oh, sweetie, I missed you too," she says, holding me tight. "You were like a daughter to me, you know."
My heart fills with warmth, but a part of me wonders... Where is he? The memories rush back—the laughter, the stolen moments, the promises. I pull back, scanning the room, and then I see him.
Walid.
It's really him, standing there with that same smile, those same green eyes, the dimple on his right cheek. Ya Allah, it's Walid.
Before I can stop myself, I'm running to him. He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off my feet, spinning me in a circle. We both laugh, memories flooding back. But just as quickly, reality crashes down. He left me. Without a word.
I pull back, the warmth replaced by a familiar sting of hurt. Without thinking, I push him away, and before I know it, my hand flies up and slaps his cheek, the sharp sound filling the room.
His head turns, and for a moment, silence hangs between us.
Ya Rabb, what am I doing? My mind races, guilt and confusion swirling. He stares back, eyes wide with surprise, and I'm left standing there, wondering if I'll ever get the answers I need.
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