A tale of love, loss, and new beginnings.
Hareem wants to start over, Momin is stuck in the past. Can a newly wedded couple learn to love and accept one another while also dealing with an uncertain future and a haunting past?
Trigger warning: ptsd...
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CHAPTER ONE
Plump and naive were two of many words that described Hareem. But that morning, there was only one: drenched.
Barely secured under the umbrella she held as it poured, she stood on the wide road leading to the college campus. Clenching the handle of her dull brown corduroy shoulder bag, her palms grew moist due to the humidity, mirroring the sweat that was making her kameez stick to her back.
Her father had initially promised to drop her all the way to the auditorium entrance, it being her first day after all, but when her brother had called and announced that football practice had ended early, she had volunteered to get off on the side of the road. Walking a couple of kilometres seemed to be a small price to pay for maintaining peace at home. Her brother didn't like waiting, and if he found out that the cause of the delay was her, he would be furious.
A little more to go...just a little more. The exercise is good for me. She chanted to herself as cars zoomed by, noisy rickshaws slowing near her to offer her a ride on a discounted price. She waved away the prying eyes, focusing on the cracked sidewalk that led straight to the campus.
She was wet all over by the time she entered the campus gates. The rain along with her permanent companion—sweat—left wet spots on her back and under her arms. Making a mental note to wipe the sweat once she reached the main campus buildings, she sighed to herself, pulling her bag closer to her body like a shield.
Her thoughts were brought to an abrupt end when an approaching car suddenly stopped beside her. A bit startled, she looked in through the passenger car window and saw a woman, perhaps in her late fifties, gesture her in.
She contemplated the worst that could happen, then decided to get in anyway. She opened the door and seated herself on the egg-shell white leather seat. The chilly air of the air conditioning hit her wet face, causing a chill to run down her spine. Gasping out loud, she allowed her eyes to trail over to her savior; an aging woman dressed in a well-tailored shalwar kameez suit.
"Did you really plan to walk all the way?" The friendly face asked with a smile. Hareem looked away shyly. "Never mind that," she offered with a light chuckle. "I'm Farah Afzal, the dean of the English department."
"Hello ma'am, I'm Hareem Shoukat," she informed shyly, glancing down at her hands. "This is my first semeste-"
"Oh my goodness! No wonder you were walking, everyone who buzzes through the gates drives to the campus," Farah exclaimed.
"Oh."
"But that's okay, now you know." Hareem nodded, exchanging looks with the Dean. "Why were you walking all the way? Didn't you want to look good for your first day? Oh and it seems that your dress has gotten muddy already."
Hareem's eyes followed the Dean's towards her baby pink chiffon dress, her heart growing heavy at the damage.
"My father had an appointment," she whispered, staring at the dirty edges of the dress.
