Epiphany

29:

- Hadia  -

I couldn't wait until Mustafa got home. I watched as the clocked tick, showing it was almost half seven. His flight landed two hours ago, meaning he would be home any minute now.

I smiled, pressing a hand to my stomach, the thought filled me with so much joy that I could barely contain it.

I could already picture his reaction, the surprise in his eyes, the way his lips would part in shock before softening into a smile. Mustafa had always been composed, always in control, but I knew this news would shake him in the best way possible.

I was still lost in thought when I heard the sound of the front door unlocking.

My heart leaped. I quickly stood up, fixing my dress. I rushed toward the entrance, already grinning. "Mustafa, you're home—" I happily said 

The words died on my lips the moment I saw him. He stepped inside, setting his suitcase down, his face blank. There was no warmth in his expression. No relief at seeing me after days apart.

Just coldness.

My smile faltered. "Mustafa?" He didn't answer. I took a step closer. "Is everything okay?"

He let out a sharp breath, before finally looking at me. "I'm tired, Hadia." His voice was flat. Emotionless. "I don't want to do this right now." 

I was confused what he meant. My stomach twisted, unsure. 

I forced a small smile, ignoring the unease creeping up my spine. "That's okay. You must be exhausted from the trip. I made dinner—" I tried quickly changing the topic. I turned to the kitchen when he spoke, stopping me.

"I'm not hungry." He coldly said. The coldness in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

Something was wrong. I could feel it. I swallowed hard, trying not to panic. "Mustafa... what's going on?" I tried asking.

He rubbed his forehead, letting out a bitter chuckle. "You really don't know?" I frowned. "Know what?" I have no idea what he is talking about.

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I was stupid to believe you," he muttered under his breath. I blinked, my pulse quickening. "Believe me? About what?" I asked, the atmosphere becoming cold almost instantly.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and shoved it toward me. The moment I saw the screen, my breath hitched.

It was the same photo. Me. In the mall. Faraz holding my hand. At least that's what it looked like from the angle the picture was taken from. 

I felt my blood run cold. Where did he get this from? I instantly wondered. A lump formed in my throat as I looked up at him. "Mustafa... where did you get this?" I looked at him, as I pointed to his phone.

But he didn't answer.

My hands trembled as I took a shaky step closer. "You think... You don't believe this, do you?" I asked. Is this why he was cold with me. His eyes darkened. "What else am I supposed to believe, Hadia? I saw the proof with my own eyes."

"No." I shook my head frantically. "It's not proof. It's a lie! He grabbed my hand—I pulled away! Mustafa, please, you have to listen to me."

"okay so what about him always being around the company, sending you flowers. What was all that?" He asked. I sighed, already upset. "I knew I should have told you before. But it was Faraz, he kept showing up near me. I didn't even know why he's been following me. You need to believe me, he's been stalking me. You need to believe me" I tired explained.

He let out a humorless laugh. "Believe you?" He took a step back, as if my presence alone disgusted him. "I should've listened to Saad from the beginning. A marriage that started wrong will end wrong."