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His gaze lingered on her face just for a few seconds. She looked the same as she had years ago, when they had sat next to each other with dozens of people witnessing their engagement. Her eyes were still large and glistening, falling to the floor like she was nervous, her face undeniably full of innocence. She took a step forward, snapping him out of his daze. Quickly diverting his gaze to the floor, he realized he had no right to do that. They may have been engaged for five years, but they were still na-mahram to each other.
Astaghfirullah! What had he been thinking?
"Assalamu Allykum," the shy voice greeted.
"Wa'allykum Salaam." He noticed a shadow cast as she walked past him to the couch at the furthest corner of the room.
The mother and daughter had been waiting in the kitchen from the very minute Momin had entered the house, expecting Ahmad to summon them to the drawing room any second. Initially, her mother had planned on entering the room with her, but since her father personally came to get her, he had instructed her to go ahead while he talked to her mother.
Hareem looked back towards the hallway, wondering what was taking her parents so long. Slowly making her way towards the vacant love-seat in the corner of the room, she clenched and unclenched her hands.
When she had donned her bright clothes over an hour ago, she had realized that she wasn't looking that bad, but now, as she glanced towards Momin's spotless white trousers and dark denim shirt, she wondered if she could ever match that amount of unintended perfection.
She stared at her hands, in wait of her father arriving along with her mother. She thought of the dozen foods her mother had made and placed in eye pleasing plates with care.
The clearance of a throat broke her train of thoughts.
"How is Calculus going?" He asked, surprising her. "Have you been able to grasp the concepts?" She nodded. "That's good." Silence followed for a few seconds before he spoke again.
"I understand that you were equally shocked when you found out that," he coughed. "I'm the assistant professor in the same class you signed up for." He paused. "Being in the same room three times a week isn't much of a problem. But, I would prefer and strongly suggest that you don't mention our relationship to anyone, either now or after the nikah," She raised her eyes to look at him in surprise. He was staring at the edge of the table across which she sat. "It would save us from a lot of trouble."
Trouble? What sort of trouble?
Hareem wasn't sure what problems or trouble he was referring to, and she didn't have the courage to ask. The only probable reason that echoed through her was that Momin was clearly ashamed of their relationship. She was stunned. The more she tried to outrun her past, the more it seemed to haunt her.
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SpiritualA 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...