Aira, now 19, unexpectedly crossed paths with her childhood playmate, Ayaan Sikandar, after years of separation. Their families had lost contact when Aira's father faced business losses, forcing them to move back to their home country. As a 4-year-o...
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The morning started as usual for me with a heavy workout session. By the time I had finished and showered, I felt a bit restless. Something was on my mind, Mom. It had only been three days since she left for Pakistan, but for some reason, I missed her more than I expected. I picked up my phone and called her, eager to hear her voice.
“Assalam o alikum, Mom,” I greeted her once she answered.
“Walikum salam, my dear Ayaan!” she replied with warmth that made me instantly feel better. “How are you, son?”
“I’m good, Mom,” I said, settling down on the couch. “I just missed you and thought I’d call. When are you coming back? It feels like it’s been forever.”
She laughed softly. “It’s only been three days! You refused to come with me to Pakistan, remember? So don’t blame me now that you miss me.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. I regret it now. Bhai and Baba are loaded with the wedding stuff, and I’ve finished my part. Now it feels empty without you.”
“Well, I’ll be back in two days, don’t worry,” she reassured me. “But speaking of the wedding, I have some exciting news for you!”
“Exciting news?” I repeated, feeling curious. “What is it?”
There was a mischievous tone in her voice when she said, “I’ve met someone special here. Someone important to me, and to you.”
I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Who is it?”
Mom laughed softly. “I’ll tell you when I get back! It’s a surprise.”
I groaned. “That’s not fair, Mom. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”
She chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. “Everything’s fair in love and war, my child.”
“You’re not making any sense, Mom,” I muttered, frustrated.
“You’ll see,” she teased. “It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”
Just then, I noticed another call coming in. “I’ve got to go. An important call from the office is coming in. Talk to you later, Mom.”
“Alright, take care of yourself. And make sure Bhai and Baba aren’t working themselves to the bone with the wedding arrangements.”
“I will, Mom. Allah Hafiz.”
“Allah Hafiz, my dear,” she replied before the call ended.
I placed my phone down, staring at it for a moment. Who could she have met? What did she mean by someone important to both of us? The thought lingered in my mind, but I had to push it aside for work.
That evening, as I was still thinking over the conversation with Mom, Azlan walked into my room.
“What’s up, bro?” he asked, noticing my thoughtful expression.
