From Aliya to Hafiz

Thirty-three.

Aliya.

I think Hafiz is mad.

No, Hafiz was mad.

What was wrong with that man?

How was I supposed to interact with someone like that? I thought if I helped him out with Sofia, it would maybe improve our relationship a bit because, despite everything, I was indeed at fault for taking Delilah's words at face value. I also believed maybe Auntie was right and he may find guidance through me, if so Allah wills it, but I had to make it so he didn't want to tear into me on sight.

Well, it looked like it was presumptuous enough that I believed myself to be a soldier of Allah, Ahuzubillah. Honestly, not only was I at my wit's end, I was also getting fed up with our predicament. We couldn't even have a normal conversation without it turning into a quarrel, how was I supposed to show him the beauty of Islam? I've been here for almost three months now, and he had never seen me pray or recite.

Where was the influence supposed to come from!?

"You look constipated," an amused chuckle startled me out of my thoughts.

I stood up, flustered. "Dr. Zane, good morning."

"Morning, Doctor," he sat down on the chair opposite my desk. "What got you so upset this early in the morning?" He said, amused.

Zane Hathaway was the youngest senior cardiologist in the history of Hope Medical Care, the nation-renowned cardiologist expert, or as the media called him, 'Alchemist of the Heart.' He was thirty-two years old, fairly tall and good-looking, lean, with a head of black hair and electric blue eyes.

I resumed work yesterday, and he came to me and apologised, along with the entire staff of the cardiology department, much to my shock. I was given an office, like it was supposed to be apparently, and only had to see three patients a week. Most of my time was supposed to be spent writing a thesis and conducting research as Zane's partner.

Nikita told me Uncle pushed for me to get his position, but relented when he found out it was Zane, and instead demanded that I became his partner. Zane and I got along well, for people who met yesterday. Thanks to him, my work life became much smoother.

That, and I believed everyone in this department was scared of me now.

"Wondering how to get along with my so-called husband," I murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "What are we working on?"

"You have a so-called husband? I was under the impression that you were single," he crossed his legs and got comfortable on the chair. "Oh, but word around the hospital is that you're sleeping with Mr Hakimi."

I frowned in distaste. "Hafiz and I? God no."

"The older Mr Hakimi, his father," he tutted. "So, Hafiz is the so-called husband then?"

This man had the weirdest of brain networking. He was too sharp.

"How did you even arrive at such a conclusion?"

"That's not important, answer my question first," he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corner. "Do I stand a chance?"

I chuckled. "A chance at what?"

The humour vanished from his eyes. "I think you're a knowledgeable and calm young woman, and I find you very attractive. So what do you think?"

I blinked, looking at him funny.

"Are you questioning my intelligence?" The smile was back in his eyes.

"What do you think? You can't be interested in me."