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 Fifteen
Momin rotated the sphere marble paperweight again and again as Professor Hammad stood across him, talking to Layla intently. The Professor had his back towards Momin, but Layla stood right across and glanced at him repeatedly. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, wondering when she realized what she was doing. He may have different requirements of modesty as a man, but she had no right to be staring at him like that.
He had been unable to return Layla's notebook yesterday, so when she had come to the office to ask for it this morning, he had introduced her to the Professor directly, in order for the two to talk personally, and consequently not be alone with her.
He should have been listening to their conversation, but his mind had been centered around Ashiq all day. He had been researching throughout the day, and had found a private investigation firm in his parents' city, his old hometown. Since then he had been mentally preparing what he'll say when he would make the call.
He twirled the sphere again, half-heartedly glancing in the direction of the Professor. He caught Layla staring at him again. Ya Allah. Clearing his throat loudly this time, he looked away in annoyance.
"Mr. Mehmood?" The Professor called out to him, turning around to face the young man.
"Yes Sir?" He sat up straighter, attempting to be attentive.
"Would you mind showing Ms. Ali our plans for the post-mid classes?" Momin curtly nodded, already heading towards the metallic storage cupboard across the room. "I have to go meet Ms. Reshum regarding the mid-term exam." Oh no no no.
"Right Sir."
Momin watched the Professor exit the office, waiting for him to turn the corner before Momin turned and wadded through the numerous files in the fully packed drawer. He left the office door wide open, clearly uncomfortable with being alone with a student.
He reached for a thick file labelled 'post-mid' and handed it to Layla.
"Thanks," she stated with a polite smile. Momin nodded as a reply, taping his foot impatiently as she read.
As Layla leaned against the glass table while leafing through the file, Momin walked back to the door, standing at the threshold, waiting for the Professor to return.
"Mr. Mehmood? These two pages are misprinted," Layla informed, pointing to the pages on the file.
"Let me see," Momin offered, nearing the desk. He had proofread all the pages, how could he have missed them?
As he looked through the pages that she had pointed out, he heard his cell phone ring. He fished for it in his pocket and saw that it was his mother's call. Alhumdulillah!
"Excuse me," he muttered, quickly leaving the room. He closed the door behind him as he said a cheerful 'Salaam' to his mother, glad that the call had helped him escape the room.
