FOREVER WITH YOU

Her beauty is Undeniable

Secretary Maryam didn't dare to push her boss's temper. Without a word, she swiftly turned and exited the office.

With a heavy sigh, she collapsed into her chair, her expression twisted in frustration.

A few minutes had passed before a poised, caramel-skinned woman stood in front of Maryam, unannounced. Secretary Maryam's eyes darted up, then back to her work, her expression remained studiously indifference, as if the woman had been invisible.

Amra was one of Rayyan's cousins.

She cleared her throat with a low husky sound, demanding notice.

Secretary Maryam glared at her and said, "Madam"

"Um," she hummed in response, sweeping her eyes around the office, she looked at her and asked "where is the CEO?"

She replied with a snarky voice, "Oh, boss is not in the office at the moment."

"Where did he go?"

"There was a meeting at the university in the afternoon. As to when he'll be back, I currently do not know."

Amra knew Secretary Maryam was lying; their parents owned the institute, and if there was a meeting, she would have heard about it at home.

She hissed, her heels clicking angrily on the floor as she purposefully walked toward the CEO's office.

A man stood still by the window his vigorous figure tall and slender. With towering height of 1.9 meters, his presence was overbearing.

He expressionlessly looked into the distance, at the city's bustling landscape, with slightly furrowed brows and distant eyes.

Amra slowly pushed the door ajar and saw the tall figure silently standing by the french window, the corner of her mouth formed a gentle arch.

This was a handsome mature man.

She spoke calmly, "Ya Rayyan, I was just passing by..."

But before she could finish, he bellowed, Amra,  "get out of my office and go home! " His anger echoed off the wall.

" But- "

Cutting her off he said " don't make me repeat myself "

She swiftly turned and left the office the door closing softly behind her.
...

It was ten o'clock in the morning when an elderly woman burst into Tasleem's room, her face twisted in irritation. Hatred clearly visible in her eyes.

Tasleem was scared and trembled instinctively. Her hand subconsciously tightened its grasp on her bag.
She was afraid a bigger pit was waiting for her.

She didn't dare move for fear that her tears would cascade down if she made even the slightest movement.

The woman's gaze settled on the bag Tasleem held. Her eyes narrowed as she caught a glimpse of a book inside.

Her scowl deepened.

Tasleem's eyelashes trembled, and her hand shook slightly.
Was it something she had done? The question echoed in her mind.

"Heh..."  The woman chuckled like she had just heard a funny joke.  She spat contemptuously, "You're wasting your time with those books. You'll never leave this village. You hear me? You'll spend your life here, cooking and cleaning for your husband, barefoot and pregnant, a servant to his every whim. That's your destiny."

I resent being burdened with her child, a constant reminder of the past. The girl's beauty, so like her mother's, stirs old wounds. In our village, her mother had stolen the spot light, leaving me feeling invisible and barren. My anger and hurt still simmer. Thank God she's dead.

Tasleem remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground, as the weight of Mama's words threatened to crush her. Her long, dark hair cascaded around her face like a curtain, obscuring her tears. She delicately swept her hair  asides revealing her face.

She knew she had no choice but to endure.

Despite her pain her eyes were mesmerizing in their beauty, captivating in their clarity. They were big and dark, framed by long, thick lashes.

Mama had an annoyed expression.

Right now she felt like strangling this girl who had been at her throat for so many years.
She glared fiercely and said, " do I need to remind you that customers are waiting? or are you waiting for your death Mother to give us money to feed you? "

Tasleem shook her head swiftly.

Mama hissed angrily and exited the room.

Tasleem wiped away her tears, and wrapped her hijab around her head, and walked slowly out of the room. She retrieved substantial food flasks and carefully placed them on a patio table outside.

She plopped down into a worn plastic chair, and in no time, nearly all the village men gathered around, squeezing onto the bench.

The gathered men's hearts were attracted and  captivated by Tasleem's beauty, not the food they had came to buy.

She had become popular in the village. Many people had said that she was the most beautiful girl in the village.

undoubtedly, she was the village's undisputed beauty queen.

Jajaye emerged from the gathered men, his swagger unmistakable. His Dada locks, twisted and unkempt, framed his unyielding gaze. As the village head's son, his rule was unassailable, backed by the iron-clad loyalty of his gang.  

No one dared challenge him.

He walked up to Tasleem a sly smile spreading across his face. "Hey beautiful," he said, attempting to catch her attention. However, Tasleem didn't flinch, her gaze fixed on serving the crowd, she expertly ignored him, her movements unhurried, as if he had never existed.

Jajaye smiled lazily and leaned against the counter. He mussed his Dada locks, the twisted strands springing back into place. "Give me a plate of rice and stew, please, love," he said, his voice husky.

She stood silently and served him rice and stew. As she handed the plate, Jajaye seized the moment and grasped her hand instead of the plate. Caught off guard, her instincts took over, and the plate slipped from her fingers.

Mama had been watching the show for a long time.

She hurriedly rushed over, her eyes blazing with fury. She slapped Tasleem's face, and then unleashed a relentless barrage of blows, fueled by pure rage. After what felt like an enternity, she finally stopped, gasping for air her chest heaving. "You utter fool!' she seethed. 'Dropping food like that? You must be useless and uneducated! Is that what your stupid, good-for-nothing mother taught you? To waste everything and appreciate nothing?"

The intense pain made Tasleem's vision go blank. She stammered, 'Mama, he... he held my hand and—'

But Mama callously interrupted, "So what if he held your hand? You should be grateful he's interested. If not for love's foolish charm who would love someone like you?"

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