Bound by Darkness

Chapter 7

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the city as Sahar rushed through the busy Chicago streets. Her hair was a little wild from the morning wind, and she barely had time to grab her coffee as she bolted toward the office building. Her heart raced—not from the run, but from the dread of facing the disapproving gaze of Mrs. Thompson, her manager.

She pushed open the glass doors of the sleek, modern office building, slightly out of breath. The lobby was calm, its clean lines and minimalist design a stark contrast to Sahar's frantic energy. She hurried toward the elevator, pressing the button impatiently, glancing at the clock on her phone.

"Late again," she muttered to herself, biting her lip.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped inside, tapping her foot as it slowly made its ascent. When she reached her floor, she dashed out, almost knocking over a colleague in the process, flashing a quick, apologetic smile.

As she entered the office, there stood Mrs. Thompson, the manager. She was a small, frail-looking woman in her sixties with sharp, petite features that seemed etched into her face from years of managing people. Her silver hair was pulled back tightly, and she wore her usual tailored suit. Mrs. Thompson folded her arms, eyes narrowing slightly as Sahar approached.

"Sahar, late again," she said, disappointment lacing her voice. "I've told you, punctuality—"

Before she could finish, Sahar cut in with a warm, mischievous grin and walked straight up to Mrs. Thompson, wrapping her in a quick hug. "I know, I know, I'm sorry! But look—don't I at least brighten your day every time I'm late?"

Mrs. Thompson stiffened at first, but then, like a crack in a stern facade, a smile slowly crept onto her face. She shook her head, trying to maintain her disapproving look but failing. "You are incorrigible, Sahar. One of these days, you're going to push it too far."

Sahar pulled away, flashing a bright smile. "But not today, right?"

Mrs. Thompson sighed, her disappointment quickly fading. "Get to work. And don't make this a habit."

Sahar gave her a playful salute and darted toward her desk. The truth was, everyone in the office adored her. Her cheerful, kind-hearted nature had won them all over. She was their sunshine girl, bringing warmth and light into the sometimes cold, high-pressure environment of the tech world.

Settling into her desk, she took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee and opened her laptop. The day ahead was packed with tasks—managing code teams, troubleshooting, reviewing reports—but Sahar was used to it. She thrived in the chaos, finding joy even in the most tedious parts of her work.

A few hours passed in a blur of emails and meetings when the door to her office swung open. It was Milane, her best friend at work. Milane was tall, with dark, curly hair and a sharp sense of style. She always looked effortlessly chic, even on the busiest of days. Today, she wore a sleek black dress and a wide grin that instantly made Sahar suspicious.

Milane walked in and sat on the edge of Sahar's desk, crossing her arms. "So, what did Mrs. Thompson say? Did she yell at you again?"

Sahar laughed, shaking her head. "She tried, but I hugged her before she could really get going. I think I cracked her."

Milane chuckled, leaning back slightly. "You're a menace. But seriously, Sahar, you need to stop cutting it so close every morning."

"I know, I know," Sahar said with a sigh. "It's just that I'm not a morning person."

Milane raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "That's not all that's on my mind today." She paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "It's about your personal life."

Sahar groaned, leaning back in her chair. "Oh no, here we go again."

Milane crossed her arms. "Don't 'oh no' me. You need to give someone a chance! I mean, come on, Sahar, you're beautiful, brilliant, and sweet, but you've been here in Chicago for years now and haven't gone on a single proper date. What's the deal?"

Sahar shrugged, trying to laugh it off. "I've been busy. You know, with work, and—"

"Busy?" Milane interrupted. "Girl, please. You can't use that excuse forever. You're shutting yourself off, and you're missing out. You need to let someone in."

Sahar fidgeted with her pen, avoiding Milane's pointed gaze. "It's not that simple. I've got my family to think about, and I'm focused on my career. Dating just...complicates things."

Milane softened slightly but didn't back down. "I get it. You've got responsibilities. But Sahar, you deserve to have some fun, too. You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders all the time."

Sahar sighed, staring at her laptop screen. Milane wasn't wrong, but it wasn't easy to just let go. Between supporting her family and the pressures of her job, Sahar barely had time to think about herself, let alone about dating.

Milane leaned in, her voice gentle but firm. "Look, all I'm saying is—give it a shot. Just once. You don't have to marry the guy, but you need to get out there. You might be surprised by what you find."

Sahar smiled softly, but there was still hesitation in her eyes. "You make it sound so easy."

"That's because it can be," Milane said with a wink. "Which is why you're coming with me to a club tonight. No excuses. Just one night out. I promise, it'll be fun."

Sahar opened her mouth to protest, but Milane held up her hand. "No arguments. You're coming, and that's final."

After a long pause and several moments of internal debate, Sahar sighed dramatically. "Fine. One night. But just to make you happy."

Milane grinned triumphantly. "That's all I needed to hear."

As Milane left the office, Sahar leaned back in her chair, smiling to herself. She wasn't sure what to expect from the night ahead, but for the first time in a long time, she felt a little excitement mixed with the nerves.