Epiphany

27:

-Mustafa -

I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. The suit fit well, sharp and precise, but my focus kept drifting to the woman behind me.

Hadia stood near the dresser, securing the last pin in her hair. She smoothed out her long black dress. I met her gaze in the mirror, catching her staring.

"You're staring," I murmured, amusement tugging at my lips. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't staring. I was just waiting for you to finish getting ready."

I turned to face her, my eyes sweeping over her slowly. "You look beautiful," I said simply. Hadia blinked at me, clearly caught off guard, before she tried to play it off with a small shrug. "You don't look too bad yourself."

A smirk tugged at my lips as I grabbed my suit jacket. "We should head down." She nodded, picking up her clutch, and as we stepped out of the room together, I felt something I hadn't in a long time.

The hall was warm, buzzing with conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. I kept Hadia close beside me, our hands loosely linked as we moved through the crowd, exchanging casual conversations with business partners and familiar faces.

It was strange, this feeling. Having her beside me like this. For years, I had done these events alone, never one for unnecessary company. But now, walking into a room with Hadia beside me, it felt... natural.

I squeezed her hand lightly as we made our way toward one of the tables, but then, a familiar figure caught my eye.

Saad.

He stood near the table, a drink in hand, his sharp gaze locked onto me the second he saw me. His expression twisted slightly when he noticed Hadia beside me.

"Great," I muttered under my breath. "What?" Hadia glanced up at me, confused.

Before I could answer, Saad was already walking toward us.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," he said, his tone casual, but I knew him too well. There was nothing casual about the way his eyes flicked between me and Hadia.

"We were invited," I replied simply. His eyes lingered on Hadia longer this time before he let out a scoff. "So, this is who you threw everything away for."

Hadia stiffened slightly beside me, but she said nothing. I, however, felt my jaw tighten.

"Careful, Saad." My voice was low, a warning. He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "I don't get it, Mustafa. You had everything—Naya was perfect. And you threw it away for what? Some secretary?"

My fists clenched at my sides, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Walk away," I said evenly. Saad stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Women like her, they stay for the money. And when they get bored, they find someone else. You'll regret this, Mustafa."

I felt Hadia's grip tighten around my hand, but before I could respond, Saad turned and walked away, disappearing back into the crowd. I exhaled sharply, pushing down the anger simmering inside me.

"Mustafa," Hadia's voice was soft beside me. "Let it go."

I looked down at her, at the way she was looking at me—not with pity, not with worry, but with understanding. I nodded once. "Come on," I said. "Let's get out of here for a bit."

We stepped out onto the balcony, the cool air washing over us, a stark contrast to the warmth of the ballroom inside. The night was quiet, the city stretching out before us in glittering lights.

Hadia leaned against the railing, wrapping her arms around herself. I stepped beside her, handing her a cup of hot chocolate from the tray a waiter had left nearby. She took it, her fingers curling around the warmth.