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 Thirty
The anger that had been boiling inside him had finally set him on fire.
"Sir, would you prefer your tea with sugar?"
"Why not? Go ahead," Momin told the domestic worker with a polite grin. The worker nodded back and scooped a teaspoon of sugar in Momin's tea before handing it to him. "Thanks." The helper nodded again, and then left him in the room alone.
Momin sat patiently in Rafique's drawing room, waiting to meet Zawiyar. He stirred the tea, letting the sugar dissolve in the drink that would do nothing to soothe the fire inside him. Leaning forward to sip, he hoped that some of the sweetness of the tea may numb the bitterness on his tongue.
There were a variety of biscuits and snacks lined in front of him on the glass table, but his hunger had nothing to do with food. His smile was long gone, being replaced by an unwavering scowl. He continued to drink the tea, only placing the cup back when there was a clicking sound in the distance, like the sound of heels. He glanced towards the entrance of the room, eager to see who he had been waiting for. Rafique walked into the room first, followed by a guy Momin recognized as Zawiyar, a woman he assumed as Elena, on his arm.
He remembered Zawiyar. The tall guy with a posture that showed his confidence, almond shaped eyes that held a twinkle of mischief, and a smile that was edged like a smirk, he had seen that face before. Growing up in the same town, they had each other's faces imprinted in their memories because of regular interactions, but Momin remembered him from the parking lot at school. Back then he hadn't known that his name was Zawiyar, yet he couldn't forget what he had done.
The woman on his arm was nothing like the one Momin had caught Zawiyar with. Momin dismissed the memory, attempting to erase it from his mind because it would bring neither of them any benefit. However the recollection of that memory reminded Momin that Zawiyar wasn't shy when it came to using women for his own benefit.
Dressed in all black, like his fiance, Zawiyar stopped across Momin and offered his hand to shake. The look in the younger man's eyes gave away that he recognized Momin as well. Momin offered a smile, pretending that they didn't know each other before he returned the handshake.
The only reason Momin had hid that secret years ago was because the young man had pleaded to him to keep silent, his face moist with tears as he had begged Momin, who was years his senior. Momin had hoped in his heart that if Zawiyar had truly repented, then he would get rewarded for hiding his brother's secret by having his secrets hidden on the day of judgment*.
"I have heard so much about you," Momin said with a neutral tone.
"Likewise," Zawiyar replied back, a hint of a smile resting on his face. He sat down on the couch across Momin, Elena settling down right next to him without a word. "So what did you want to ask me? I don't have much to do with Ashiq."
