Epiphany

22:

- Hadia - 

The weeks blurred together in a way that felt surreal. Mustafa and I started spending more time together, but it wasn't something we talked about, but it just happened.

It began with lunch breaks in the office. On some busy days, he'd show up at my desk with takeout, claiming I'd forget to eat if left to my own devices. I rolled my eyes the first time, but somehow, it became a thing. Other days, I'd find myself in his office, balancing a plate on the edge of his desk as we argued about the best way to handle a client email.

At home, his presence was there too. Some evenings, he'd drop by with dinner, insisting I needed to take a break. I once caught him side-eyeing my frozen meals, muttering something about "improving my diet." ne Friday night, after a particularly draining week, he suggested a movie night.

"You pick," I said, too tired to argue.

Big mistake. He chose a rom-com so painfully cliché that we spent the entire time making sarcastic commentary instead of watching. Somewhere between laughing at the overacted breakup scene and debating whether the heroine's dress was hideous or just bad lighting, I realized how easy it was to be around him.

The shift was subtle, but I couldn't ignore it. He was everywhere, and instead of feeling suffocated, it felt comfortable.

-
I was out to grab groceries, where the store was chaotic as usual, carts squeaking, kids screaming, and people arguing over discounts. Just as I was loading the bags into my trunk, I heard someone call my name.

"Hadia!" I turned to see a familiar face. Ahmad's friend.

"Hey Daniel," I greeted, plastering on a polite smile. "Wow, it's been ages," he said, walking up with that casual confidence boys seem to think is charming. "How've you been?"

"Good," I replied, distracted as I mentally ticked off the errands I had left. "What about you?""Same old," he shrugged. "You guys must be stressed with exams coming up?" I asked.

His words paused. "Exams?" "Yeah," I said, chuckling. "We don't have them until the end of next month."

Confusion prickled at the back of my neck. "Ahmad's told me he was swamped with studying." I said slowly. 

His face flickered with uncertainty. "Studying? No, he dropped out months ago. Didn't he tell you?" The air around me stilled. "Dropped out?" I repeated, my voice sharper than I intended.

Realizing he'd said too much, he took a step back. "Uh, maybe I've got it wrong. Forget I said anything, yeah? Anyway, it's good seeing you!" He disappeared before I could ask more, leaving me standing there with my chest tightening.

The walk home was a blur, my thoughts spinning. Ahmad dropped out? Why hadn't he told me? And if he wasn't in school, what was he even doing?

I barely noticed my groceries as I put them away, too focused on storming to Ahmad's room. "Ahmad!" I called, pushing the door open. He looked up from his desk, headphones hanging around his neck. "Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell me you dropped out?" I demanded, crossing my arms. His face darkened as he looked anxious. "Who told you that?" "Does it matter?" I snapped. "Why would you hide something like that from me?"

"Because it's none of your business," he shot back, standing up. "I'm not a kid, Hadia api. I don't need to report everything to you." His words stung, but I pushed forward. "I just don't understand, Ahmad. Why would you throw away your degree? Do you know how hard it was for me to even get interviews without one?"

"Not everything is about you!" he yelled. "I'm not you, Hadia api. I don't want to waste years on a degree. I've already started my own thing, my tech business. I'm making progress."

"You're making excuses," I countered. "Do you know how many opportunities you'll miss without a degree? People will look down on you, Ahmad. They'll think you're lazy."

"I don't care what people think," he shot back, his voice dripping with frustration. "Why do you? Why can't you just let me live my life the way I want to?"

I stared at him, my anger bubbling over. "Because I care! Because I've seen what happens when you don't think these things through. You don't just get to run off and hope for the best!"

"Well, maybe I don't need you to care!" he yelled. "Just leave me alone, Hadia api, and please focus on yourself and your married life instead of playing mom in our lives!" The words hit like a slap. My throat tightened, and I turned on my heel, slamming his door shut behind me.

The walls of the apartment suddenly felt suffocating, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I grabbed my bag and keys, desperate to get out. I was halfway out the door when I bumped into Mustafa.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, concern flickering across his face. "I just need to get out," I muttered, avoiding his gaze. "What happened?" He asked again. "Nothing. I just... I don't want to be here right now." I quickly replied.

Mustafa's hand brushed my shoulder, grounding me. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's go to my place." I blinked up at him, his steady gaze calming the storm inside me. Too tired to argue, I nodded.

The ride was quiet, the tension between us unspoken but understood. When we arrived, I sank into his couch, my head in my hands. The tears came before I could stop them, years of frustration and guilt spilling over.

"I failed him," I choked out. "I tried to guide him, but I just pushed him away. Maybe I am bad luck." "Hey," Mustafa's voice was soft but firm, pulling me back. "You're not bad luck, Hadia. You're just trying to protect the people you love." "But I didn't," I whispered, tears streaking down my face.

He sat beside me, his warmth radiating through the space between us. "You can't control everything," he said gently. "Ahmad's making his own choices, and maybe they're not what you'd pick, but that doesn't mean you've failed him. It just means you care enough to try."

I shook my head, the self-doubt eating away at me. "What if I'm wrong? What if he falls apart?"

"Then you'll be there to catch him," Mustafa said simply. "You always are. That's who you are, Hadia."

His words wrapped around me like a blanket, the sincerity in his voice breaking through the walls I'd built around my heart. Without thinking, I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder.

His arm came around me hesitantly at first, but when I didn't pull away, he tightened his hold, his fingers tracing soothing circles on my back.

"Focus on yourself for once," he murmured. "You deserve that much."

I don't know when the tears stopped or when my breathing evened out. All I knew was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek and the way his presence seemed to quiet the chaos in my mind.

Somewhere between the silence and the safety of his arms, sleep pulled me under.