When We Were Us (#1 Romance)

13: Layers of Connection

The more time I spend with Nashid, the more I notice the intricate layers beneath his calm and composed exterior. His life is a careful balance of work, family, and personal pursuits, and he carries it all with an air of confidence that I'm beginning to understand comes from his self-discipline and sense of purpose. 

I see it in the way he carves out time for his family, prioritizing their gatherings and making sure he's present whenever there are guests in their home. He brings this graceful commitment to everything he does, as if he understands that each moment with his loved ones is a gift, one that shouldn't be taken lightly.

One weekend, while I was sharing my usual doubts and worries, he looked at me thoughtfully, then said, "Why would you let these things weigh you down?" It's a simple question, but the way he says it makes me feel as though he truly believes I'm capable of more. He doesn't just offer support—he lifts me, inspires me, and somehow pushes me to see my own potential. It's rare, I think, to meet someone who can call you out on your fears while making you feel secure enough to conquer them.

But even with his uplifting energy, Nashid's private world remains largely uncharted territory. While I've grown comfortable leaning on him, he continues to keep his own burdens to himself, offering only glimpses through passing mentions and brief sighs. When I ask him if there's something he wants to talk about, he always shakes his head with a smile and says, "It's all good. Don't worry." Sometimes, I wish he'd let me in a little more, to trust me with the parts of himself that he keeps hidden, but I remind myself that he's someone who values independence. It's part of what makes him who he is.

Over time, I've learned that Nashid is driven by more than just ambition. He's the kind of person who finds purpose in every action, whether it's taking on extra work, managing his own home repairs, or staying present for his family. I've even caught glimpses of him being a bit of a perfectionist, constantly seeking to improve, whether it's in his career or in how he cares for the people he loves. This is where his strength comes from, and it's a strength that I admire deeply, even if it can feel a little intimidating.

One day, I find myself watching him with his family, especially his mom, who he adores. The way he interacts with her is filled with respect, gentleness, and care, and I realize that so much of what he does is to ensure that he's living up to the standards he's set for himself. It hits me then—how naturally I fit into this picture, how comfortable it feels to be a part of his world even if it's still unfamiliar in some ways. And, as I think about the steady calm he brings into my life, I feel my own anxieties slowly start to quiet, replaced by a newfound resolve.

In him, I see a partner who doesn't just support me, but challenges me to become someone better. I've always been reserved, cautious, and sometimes too concerned about others' opinions. Nashid is helping me shed that need for external validation, encouraging me to live in a way that is true to myself. And though he's never said it outright, I sense that he wants me to be as strong and resilient as he is, not for anyone else's sake, but for my own.

It's in these moments, these quiet realizations, that I start to understand the kind of love Nashid offers. It's not flashy or dramatic; it's steady, deep, and unwavering. And even if he rarely shows his own vulnerabilities, I know that he's letting me into his life in his own way, giving me a place in his heart that feels like home.

There's a comfort in that—a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, I've found a love that won't falter, a love that's built to last. And in my own way, I hope he knows that I'm here for him, not just to share my own worries, but to be his safe space, his unwavering support, just as he has been for me.

The hall buzzed with energy as we arrived at the Islamic event at the convention center, Nashid with his arms laden with trays of homemade food, each carefully wrapped and still warm from the kitchen.