FATE INSPIRED

Chapter 21

Layla

It was already evening by the time I'd marked off my last task of the day on Notion. I'd thrown myself into schoolwork for hours, clearing the entire list and neatly crossing off every little goal I'd set. Usually, it felt satisfying to wrap up, but today the relief barely surfaced.

After studying, I'd planned a cozy Pilates session and a boba date with the girls, something to decompress and recharge a bit. But there was no way I could pretend to be my usual self right now, laughing and chatting like nothing was bothering me. I canceled, not even bothering to tell them why, just saying I wasn't in the mood and would make it up to them soon. They understood, of course; they always did. But that's when the frustration really kicked in, Asad's absence had cut into my plans, and a little part of my joy, and left me feeling completely unsettled.

Last night still lingered sharply in my mind, a mix of irritation and confusion. I kept going over it, remembering how I'd gotten ready, how I'd felt as I waited, how annoyed I'd felt as time passed, and he didn't even show up. It was that dreadful feeling of being left hanging, of holding onto hope just long enough to feel let down. By the time I'd realized he wasn't coming, I'd felt such an urge to cry out of sheer anger. But I'd willed myself to stay calm, to sit there and keep it all in. I wasn't going to cry over this, not a single tear.

It wasn't until this morning that I finally received a couple of short messages from him—just two brief apologies, explaining there'd been some sort of "emergency." Two messages. No calls, no real explanation, just two bland, vague lines that felt more like afterthoughts than anything else. My phone lay silent all day after that, and even now, hours later, he hadn't made any further attempts to reach out. I'd actually considered blocking him after that second message, as impulsive as that sounded. I almost wanted him gone from my sight, but then I stopped myself. Blocking him would make it seem like he mattered too much as he had somehow succeeded in leaving a dent in my calm. No, blocking him was not happening.

And yet, something about all this kept tugging at my mind, unraveling bit by bit. Why did it bother me this much? I hadn't planned to feel anything toward any man, at least not yet. I was too focused on the million other things that mattered, things that wouldn't disappoint me or vanish without reason. But then he came along, with that calm demeanor and those strange, very strange, oddly captivating eyes, a constant distraction hovering on the edge of my thoughts. And now, here I was, stuck feeling irritated by someone who, if I was being honest, had managed to make my heart flutter in ways I hadn't even realized until he went and messed it all up. The worst part wasn't even that he'd stood me up; it was the afterthought he'd made of the apology. As though I wasn't worth a bit more effort, more than just two short messages. That stung more than I wanted to admit.

As I sat in front of my mirror to start my weekly self-care routine, the sight of my irritated face in the reflection only reminded me of him once again. His audacity. How could he think that two messages would suffice after standing me up? The more I thought about it, the more I seethed. There were no frantic calls to make up for it, no voice filled with concern or regret. Just two cold texts and silence. Did he really think that's all it took? With an apparent stubborn girl like me?

I stirred the herbal face mask, scooping some onto my fingers, relishing the earthy, floral scent. My mom, being from a tribe that worshipped all forms of self-care, had given Aunty Yamaniya the recipe a while ago, and Aunty had perfected it at her spa. It always had this soothing effect, almost grounding, and today I needed it more than ever. As I applied the mask, smoothing it over my skin, I reminded myself of something I've always known I'm not the type of girl who lets people treat her like a second thought. I knew my worth, and knew that I deserved respect.