fated hearts

chapter 1

Asiya navigated the parking lot of "Le Palais Royale" in her gleaming white, custom G-Wagon, an unmistakable symbol of her status even in a city filled with affluence. Her grip tightened momentarily on the steering wheel as she took a deep breath. After parking, she gracefully stepped out of the car, her elegant abaya flowing in the breeze. Opening the back door, she leaned in to help her three-year-old son, Muhammad, out of his baby safety seat.

"Ready, little man?" she asked, her tone soft as she adjusted his tiny hat and smoothed his outfit. His large brown eyes sparkled back at her with pure innocence.

Before she could close the door, a familiar voice pierced the air, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Sia," the voice called.

Her heart skipped a beat, freezing her in place. Slowly, she turned around, her breath catching in her throat. There he was, Ibrahim Rashid, standing a few steps away, just as captivating as she remembered. His tall, imposing figure was framed against the city’s backdrop, his presence commanding yet comforting in a way that unsettled her. He hadn’t changed. If anything, time had only sharpened his features and intensified his aura.

Ibrahim's eyes softened the moment they landed on Muhammad. He took a few steps closer, crouching down to the boy's level.

"Hey, big man," Ibrahim greeted with that familiar warm smile that used to make her heart flutter. He extended his hand to Muhammad. "How are you?"

Muhammad looked up at him, blinking in recognition, then smiled shyly. "Fine," he replied in his small, sweet voice, reaching out to shake Ibrahim's hand.

Ibrahim’s grin widened. "That's my boy," he said gently, ruffling the child's hair before standing up. "Let me see if I have some chocolates in the car. Do you like chocolates?"

Muhammad nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

Ibrahim walked over to his car, opening the back seat with ease. Moments later, he returned with a box of assorted chocolates. He leaned down, placing the box into Asiya's car next to Muhammad's seat.

"Here you go, champ. Enjoy," he said with a wink.

"Thank you!" Muhammad's voice was filled with pure joy as he admired the colorful box.

Asiya, still standing there, struggled to compose herself. The air between her and Ibrahim was thick with unspoken emotions, memories, and words that had been left unsaid for too long. She took a shaky breath and finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's been a long time, Ibrahim."

Her smile was soft, but beneath it, her heart ached with the weight of everything they once were — and everything they could never be.

Ibrahim’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them. He nodded, his expression unreadable but tinged with a sadness that mirrored her own.

"Too long," he agreed, his voice low, filled with a longing that tugged at her heartstrings. "How have you been?"

"I’m... fine," Asiya managed, though she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Her fingers, trembling slightly, moved restlessly, betraying her inner turmoil.

Ibrahim’s eyes softened as he noticed her nervous habit. "You still play with your fingers when you're nervous," he observed gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The tenderness in his voice broke through her defenses, making her chest tighten. She was about to reply when her sister, Mariya, appeared beside them, interrupting the delicate moment.