The Unwanted Marriage

Chapter 25

Plz comment I would love to read them😊

Amina's POV

We had just finished breakfast, and Zayd was dropping Mom at the mansion on his way to the office.

"Asalamu alaikum, Mom. I’m going to the hospital—I’m already late," I said, heading toward the door.

"Beta, wait. Zayd will drop you," Mom said, stopping me.

I glanced at him—he was standing on the balcony, speaking on the phone. Then I turned back to Mom and replied, “No, Mom, it’s okay. I’ll go by myself.”

"No, beta. He’ll drop you. You’re already running late. Don’t worry about me—my driver will take me," she insisted.

Just then, Zayd walked into the living room. He had clearly heard her. I looked at him, unsure of what to say. His expression was unreadable.

"Zayd, you drop her. I’ll go with my driver," Mom said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

He simply nodded.

A few minutes later, Mom left for the mansion. I was sitting beside Zayd in the back seat of his car, silent, while the driver pulled away from the house.

Zayd was on his laptop the whole time during the car ride. Such a workaholic, I thought, sneaking a glance at him. Meanwhile, I was on my phone, pretending to read a novel. I didn't always read—only when I had free time or when I wanted to appear busy with something.

The car pulled to a stop at the hospital. I put my phone away and said softly, "Thank you."

He didn't look up, simply nodding. I opened the door to step out, but then—

"Amina," he said.

For a second, I froze. It was the first time he'd ever said my name. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks. I never thought my name could sound so beautiful until now.

I turned around to look at him, and I found him already looking at me. His sharp gaze softened slightly, making me feel nervous and shy.

"As I dropped you, I'll pick you up later. Or I'll send a driver—since you didn't bring your car," he said, his tone hesitant but measured.

I nodded quickly. "Okay," I managed to say, barely meeting his eyes.

He nodded back, then drove off without another word. I stood there for a moment, trying to collect myself before walking inside.

Inside the hospital, I went straight to the pediatric department, where Layla was waiting.

"As-salamu alaikum, Layla," I greeted her cheerfully.

"Wa alaikum as-salam, darling!" she said, pulling me into a quick hug.

I hugged her back, smiling. As we pulled away, I asked, "What's on the schedule for today?"

"We three will assist Dr. William in a surgery," she replied, flipping through her notes.

"We three?" I frowned. "Who's the third?"

"Amir," she said.

"Oh," I said simply as we started walking toward the orthopedics department. "What's the patient's history?"

"A 43-year-old man with a tibia-fibula compound fracture in his left leg," she said, her tone turning professional.

We changed into scrubs and entered the operating theater. Amir was already there, talking to Dr. William, the lead surgeon.

 The moment we entered, Amir's gaze landed on me. I quickly averted my eyes and greeted the doctors instead.

"Good morning, Dr. William. Good morning, Dr. Charles," I said politely.