Epiphany

13:

- Mustafa - 

I couldn't shake the tension from the decision I had made. The engagement with Naya had been settled, but I still felt uncertain, like the weight of the decision was pressing on me from all directions. 

It was a choice I had made out of obligation, out of family duty, but something about it didn't sit right.

I wasn't sure why I had said yes, whether it was because of Saad's persistent pressure or the fear of disappointing the people who mattered most. All I knew was that I was lost in my thoughts.

I walked into the office, trying to push everything to the back of my mind. The day ahead was filled with presentations, deadlines, and meetings, exactly what I needed to distract myself, or so I thought. But it wasn't working.

My brain kept returning to the engagement to the responsibilities I had just stepped into. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of it all settling deeper.

When I got to my office, I found Hadia already there, working as usual. She was always early, always prepared, and today was no different.

She looked focused, her hands flipping through the paperwork for the presentation. The energy in the room shifted just by her presence, but I couldn't quite figure out why I felt this way. 

Maybe it was the fact that I'd been dealing with so much at home, and now, here she was, as steady and composed as always.

"Morning, Mr. Mustafa," she greeted, her voice calm but warm. She looked up from her work, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. I nodded, forcing a smile. "Morning," I said, though I wasn't sure if I believed it myself.

I sat at my desk and tried to focus on the presentation details in front of me. But as Hadia explained the logistics and layout of the plan, I couldn't help but watch her. It wasn't just her words that drew me in.

It was the way she carried herself, her calm composure as she spoke.

The way the folds of her black hijab sat just so neatly and modestly, somehow added to the quiet elegance she radiated. Her blouse, ivory and crisp fitting perfectly, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show the graceful curve of her arms. Her trousers were black and professional, but somehow stylish in a way that seemed effortless. 

The way she moved, adjusting her papers and shifting her seat, caught my attention.

It wasn't just that she was attractive, though she was, but that her focus and confidence radiated in such a way that it made it impossible not to notice.

Her voice cut through my thoughts again, a slight question in her tone. "Are you with me, Mr. Mustafa?" I blinked, startled by her question.

"Ah, yes. I'm with you. Keep going," I muttered, mentally slapping myself for getting distracted.

Hadia's brow furrowed slightly as though she sensed my hesitation. But she didn't press, moving on with the presentation as though everything was normal.

I focused on the slides in front of me, but my mind was still miles away. Every time I looked at her, it was like I couldn't help noticing everything, how her eyes would shift slightly when she emphasized a point, or how she tapped her pen on her lip when she thought. 

I shook my head internally. Why was I fixated on her? She was just my assistant. It should be simple. And yet, my thoughts betrayed me.

She was explaining a complex part of the presentation now, but all I could do was watch how her fingers gripped the papers and how she spoke with such quiet authority.

I was too caught up in the little things, the soft, natural scent of her perfume that lingered in the air, or how the light from the window seemed to catch her skin in a way that made everything feel -  warmer.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. I wasn't supposed to feel this way about her. But the longer we sat together, the more it became undeniable.

There was something about her that made everything else fade into the background. I couldn't help but feel pulled to her, as if every word she said, every glance she gave, was somehow keeping me gripped to the present moment.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake the thoughts away. "Let's move on to the next part," I said, my voice more strained than I intended. I couldn't look at her directly anymore.

I had to focus.But she didn't seem to notice, continuing with the presentation as if nothing was off. Her focus was unwavering, and I admired her ability to block out distractions, something I was struggling with now.

As I listened to her speak, I realized just how much I had started to depend on her. She wasn't just good at her job. She was indispensable.

The realization came like a wave, crashing over me. She had become a constant, and even though I didn't want to admit it, she was starting to mean more to me than I was comfortable with.

I could feel the tension building inside me, and it wasn't just about the presentation. It was about everything, Naya, my family, and now Hadia. The weight of it all pressed down on me.

Hadia's voice cut through my thoughts again, pulling me back to the present. "Mr. Mustafa?" I blinked, looking up at her. "Sorry. Yes?"

She hesitated, just for a moment. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... off today." I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. How could I explain that everything in my life felt tangled up right now? That I wasn't sure where anything was headed?

"I'm fine," I said, though the words felt hollow. She nodded, but I could see the question still lingering in her eyes. Then, without another word, she continued with the presentation. But I couldn't shake the feeling that she was watching me, waiting for something that I couldn't give her.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to push away the growing anxiety in my chest. I couldn't let myself get distracted—not now, not when there was so much at stake.

But the more I looked at her, the harder it became to ignore the pull I felt. Every time I tried to turn my focus back to the task at hand, my thoughts returned to her, how she sat, how she moved, how she made everything seem so effortless.

It was only when I caught myself staring at her once again that I realized I needed to get a grip. I cleared my throat again, standing up quickly. "Let's take a break," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

Hadia nodded, seemingly not noticing my discomfort. "Sure, Mr. Mustafa." I didn't sit back down, though. I couldn't. I had to leave, if only for a moment. My mind was a mess, and I needed to clear it before I made any more mistakes.

I couldn't keep letting my mind wander, no matter how often my gaze lingered on Hadia. The attraction I felt was dangerous, something I couldn't afford to entertain.

I reminded myself again that this was only a contract marriage, temporary, nothing more. A year, just one year, and then everything would go back to normal.

Hadia was professional, dedicated, and nothing more. I couldn't allow myself to complicate things. I had already made my decision. This engagement with Naya, the pressure from my family, everything was a burden I had to carry.

I had to keep my distance from Hadia. It was the only way to protect both of us. I needed to focus on what mattered. One year. After that, we would go our separate ways. I couldn't afford any distractions.

As I walked away, the thought echoed in my mind: Stay distant. It was the only way.
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Will this be how Hadia and Mustafa's relationship end? Them going separate ways ?