C H A P T E R - 18

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Chapter Eighteen

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Chapter Eighteen

"Oops," Momin exclaimed. "I shouldn't have turned on the AC, the engine always dies."

"What will we do now?" Hareem wondered after a few minutes of silence.

Momin consulted his watch, then said, "We eat, I drop you home in a taxi, and then I call the mechanic to jumpstart the car so I can drive back home."

"How long does it take the mechanic to come and work?"

"I'm not sure, it depends. Last time it took thirty minutes, but the time before it took two hours," he confessed.

Hareem took out her shawarma, the one with CHK written on it with a black marker. She handed Momin his beef shawarma, and said, "I can call my dad and let him know. I want to stay with you until the mechanic is done." We have a lot to discuss.

"I wouldn't recommend that," Momin advised with an embarrassed grin. "It's happened enough times for me to know that it'll take a while." Hareem knitted her eyebrows, surprised by the revelation. "Sorry, the battery needs to be changed but I'm not too good with my money management."

Hareem halted, setting down her lunch.

For months she had been dying inside because Momin was everything she wasn't. He had everything that marked being successful in life. He was good looking, smart, and confident. He was loved and looked up by many. His flaw-less personality and appearance had caused her insecurities to flare up, he had caused her to doubt her own merits, question her worth every single day. He had made her cry, tremble and dread every moment until their wedding. Yet Momin, the man she had thought was perfect was pre-diabetic, ate more than any other person she knew, and had poor money management skills.

He wasn't so perfect then, was he?

A snort left her nose, which followed with a chuckle, and then she roared with laughter. She abandoned her shawarma and laughed until tears started to pour down her cheeks.

She couldn't believe it. Her husband, the man she had perceived as perfect wasn't all that perfect. He had the exterior markers of being successful, but he was actually an imperfect goof-ball in a handsome body.

She wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying, yet as tears left her eyes she felt happier than she had in weeks.

"Hareem, are you okay?" Momin asked with concern. She shook her head as she wiped away the tears with the back of her palms. "I think I'll call the mechanic." He got out of the car and started making calls.

As he leaned against the closed window, Hareem calmed herself down and called her parents to let them know that she was coming home with Momin, but they would be a little late. Her mother was the one who answered the phone, and she was glad for that. Her father would have asked a lot more questions.

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