Iman's narration
Dinner was unusually quiet.
The only voices filling the air belonged to Mom and Dad, exchanging small talk while Ahad remained silent.
For the past ten minutes, not a single word had left his mouth.
Instead, he had buried his full attention into his plate, as if he had suddenly developed a deep academic interest in the history of food. His fork moved mechanically, his brows drawn into a deep, sharp frown-forming a perfect V.
Oh, God.
"Ahem." I cleared my throat. "Ahad, can you pass me the pick-"
I hadn't even finished my sentence before-whoosh!
With a supersonic speed that man grabbed the glass jar of pickles and placed it in front of my plate.
I blinked.
This was enough.
If he didn't want to talk, fine. I wasn't dying for his attention. And why should I? Wasn't he the one who had exploded over absolutely nothing?
That's it.
Pushing my chair back, I stood up and climbed the stairs without another word.
Only to hear footsteps behind me.
I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
Ahad.
Following me.
That man had the grace of a panther.
Ahad's Narration
I don't know why I followed her.
Maybe I was compelled to.
Maybe I just needed to be near her.
I wanted to hug her-desperately.
But before I could say a word to break the ice between us, her phone rang.
Of course. Because things hadn't been confusing enough already.
She didn't turn to me. Instead, she picked up the call.
"Hey, Iman!"
A girlish voice. Shanzay.
Iman's only friend besides me. She wasn't one for big social circles-said they made her head spin. A few close friends, less headache.
"Hello, Shanzay," Iman answered, trying to lighten her tone. "You called. Is everything alright?"
"How do you always know when something's up, babes?" Shanzay asked.
"If it was anything else, you wouldn't be calling me, dear," Iman said smoothly.
We both knew that if Shanzay called, someone was definitely in trouble.
And that someone was usually Miss Shorty herself.
I tried to remain calm.
"Nah, everything's alright," Shanzay reassured.
Iman didn't buy it. "I sense a 'but' coming."
Damnit, Shanzay, spill it out already.
"Well, actually, I was at the studio and bumped into our basketball captain today..."
My good mood vanished in an instant.
Hafiz.
I had just started thinking of ways to make Iman laugh, maybe even apologize. But the second I heard his name, my blood boiled.
Was he planning something? If he had some dumb idea in that head of his, I'd love to see him try.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay calm. Not now, Ahad. We don't want to ruin his 'handsome' face and have a police case against you, do we?
Damnit, Shah.
"Are you testing my patience, darling?" Iman interrupted, her voice carrying that dangerously graceful edge I adored. "Spill it. Now."
My girl.
"Hmm... we were chit-chatting, and everything was normal until he suddenly asked me about your favorite chocolate," Shanzay said.
Chocolate?
"Chocolate?" Iman echoed my thoughts.
"Yep. Chocolate. He even said you love red roses."
I froze.
Shanzay continued, "I don't know. We've never dragged you into our conversation before,so it was a bit shock and today, it was like he was trying to say something but didn't."
Iman asked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I always told you he has a crush on you."
That was it.
My blood rushed to my temples.
I could feel Iman rolling her eyes and sighing. But I wasn't rolling mine
No.
Instead .I was imagining Hafiz trying to gift her chocolates and roses-like an idiot who had no idea who he was dealing with.
And I was imagining the ways I could politely break his fingers.