Turmoils- A Muslim Love Story

Chapter 8

Im doing a PoV of Farhan also. And some of Ayan, Fatima and Zain(characters I will add later on). If you dont like the idea, just let me know. Enjoy. :)

Farhan's PoV

"She seems to be doing progress. I will write some prescriptions down for her. She already had some pain and itching in her wound, so a tube for that." Dr. Easha said, as she scribbled something on the paper.

I looked at mom. She was lying on the hospital bed and sleeping. I sighed.

Why did Allah punish our mother, of all the people out in the world?

"Mr. Farhan? I want to see some of Mrs. Shaila's old medicines. Have you brought them with you?"

Damn it. I forgot to bring them with me, even though I always remember.

"No I forgot today. You look after Mom, I will go and get the medicines in just 15 minutes." I said, as I stood up and grabbed my phone and car keys.

She nodded. I made my way to my car and jumped inside and threw my phone onto the passenger seat. I took my wallet out of my back pocket and threw that too, on the passenger seat.

I entered the apartment through my keys. It was quiet and dark. Where is Ayesha? She seemed to be nowhere in sight. Well at least that would spare me of seeing her, at least. Not that she is hideous or anything.

She is really beautiful. With her dark brown hair falling till her waist, her snowy white skin, and her melodic voice. But then there is the thing that she really annoys me. She keeps bringing herself equivalent to my position and I do not like that.

I shut all thoughts of her out of my mind as I entered Mom's room to get her medicines.

It took me a minute to find the medicines. As I opened the door and walked out, I saw Ayesha sitting on the couch, talking on the phone. Bags of branded companies lay sprawled next to her as she continued to speak to whoever was on the other side. She seemed to be telling the other person about the wedding.

I was about to walk off without interest when suddenly, she took my name.

"Oh yes, Farhan is an amazing person. He has a very large heart and he treats me like a princess." She squealed.

I froze. On the spot. I wasn't sure if I heard her right. But I had. She wasn't bitching about me to other people like I was doing about her, specifically to my girlfriend, Zara.

She bid goodbye, to whoever was on the other side, and got up. I quickly morphed my face into a blank expression as she turned towards me.

She looked extremely beautiful. She was dressed differently and had her hair open. Her hair was so beautiful. I wanted to run my fingers through them.

I quickly averted my eyes so that these absurd thoughts would leave my mind. I have a girlfriend.

"How much did you hear?" She asked, cautiously.

I shook my head. "Nothing important." I muttered and headed for the door.

"Wait!" She yelled after me but I paid no heed. I got into my car, put the medicines on the passanger seat and drove out of the driveway of the building.

I clutched the steering wheel tightly. And drove like a maniac. How could she even say all those nice things about me when I hate her so much? When I made sure she knows the amount of hate I hold for her?

Still, you find her gorgeous and attractive. A voice at the back of my head, nagged.

Stop thinking of her. You have a girlfriend who is willing to wait until you divorce that girl. Another voice fought.