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...
"This place where you are right now, God circled on a map for you." - Hafiz
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Chapter Twenty Four
"Do you remember any incident from school when some girl was publicly humiliated? Ashiq seemed to be quite upset about that. I was wondering maybe there could be some connection between his running away and that girl," Momin asked on the other end of the phone.
Hareem's eyes filled up with tears, threatening to roll down her warm cheeks. She could vividly recall all the eyes that had stared at her that unfortunate day, all the faces that looked at her with pity, amusement or sympathy after what had happened. Zawiyar's impassive and nonchalant face was imprinted in her memory, the face he used to make as he passed by her, not ashamed of his actions at all.
"I don't think so," she whispered. "There was an incident like that, but Ashiq wouldn't be involved in it."
"I see. What about the girl? Did you know her? Is she still in town?" Momin prodded further. She couldn't help but question his motives. Was he seriously asking about Ashiq or had he somehow come to know of her past?
"I- I know her," she stammered as her cheeks grew wet with tears. She heard footsteps approaching her in the lobby. "I- Momin, I need to go, sorry."
"Um, yeah sure. No problem. We can talk some other time." He sounded disappointed. "Take care, okay?"
"Hm."
"Allah Hafiz." She slammed down the phone and rushed to the closet near the lobby, afraid that someone in her family would see her cry.
Covering her mouth with her hands to muffle her sobs, she cried hard, sinking down into a heap on the floor. The last thing she needed was to draw any unnecessary attention to herself. Her parents wouldn't understand her feelings, so they would pester her to know who had called, and it would raise red flags if they found out that Momin was on the other end of the call. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a shaky breath.
He doesn't know. She told herself. He didn't know that his investigation was forcing her to look back without any preparation, without any opportunity to steel herself. Hareem truly wanted to help, but the whole matter was hurting her too much.
Her eyes were slightly swollen the next morning, which she didn't expect anyone to notice because they were used to seeing her like that.
But they did.
Her father had been the first one to point them out when she entered the kitchen for breakfast.
"What happened, Hareem?" He asked, abandoning his newspaper to gesture her to come near him. "Fouzia, come here!"
Her mother worried into the kitchen from the backyard, her hair tied on top of her head while her hands were muddy with picking fresh garden tomatoes.
"My God! What happened Hareem?" She exclaimed, slipping off her gloves and pulling Hareem close. "Were you crying? Baby, what's wrong?"
