Chapter 15, Two Stories
The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the night outside. Zeenat sat on the bed, her posture tense, her thoughts tangled in uncertainty. Mr. Abbas had left, but his words lingered in her mind. She just hoped he was right—that Rayyan's promises were not empty.
She didn't expect Rayyan to enter just moments later.
Her fingers instinctively tightened around the bedsheet when he walked in and, to her surprise, took a seat beside her. Without thinking, she shifted back slightly, keeping a small distance between them.
Rayyan noticed but didn't react to it. Instead, he exhaled deeply and spoke.
"Zeenat, I am sorry. I am very sorry for treating you badly, for being a careless and irresponsible husband." His voice was calm, steady—but beneath it was something else. Guilt.
Zeenat remained silent, her expression unreadable. She kept her gaze lowered, her fingers gripping the fabric of the sheet.
"I have no excuse for my behavior," Rayyan admitted. "I just… I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." He hesitated before adding, "I promise to treat you better from now on. I want to make it up to you, and I want us to give our marriage a real chance."
Still, Zeenat said nothing.
Rayyan rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at her. "But I don't know how," he confessed. "I know little about you, and I'm sure you know little about me. Maybe… maybe we can start with something simple. Let's try being even if it is just friends first, even if it is just that—for now."
Silence stretched between them.
Rayyan sighed, turning slightly to face her. "Zeenat, what do you say?" His voice was gentle but filled with quiet hope. "Would you give me a chance? Would you… ?"
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Zeenat gave a small nod.
Rayyan exhaled in relief, a genuine smile forming on his lips. "Thank you, Zeenat."
She didn't respond right away, her gaze dropping to her hands as if lost in thought. But she could feel the weight of his eyes on her, his stare lingering longer than usual. It made her feel exposed in a way she wasn't ready for, stirring something deep inside her.
Rayyan looked away, realizing his gaze was too intense, too searching. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension that hung thick in the air.
"You have a big heart, Zeenat," he said quietly, almost as though he was speaking to himself more than to her.
Zeenat's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. She didn't know how to respond, still unsure of what to make of everything that had happened between them.
Rayyan remained seated beside Zeenat for a long time, the silence stretching between them.
The night deepened, wrapping the room in quiet stillness. Zeenat hadn't spoken a word since her small nod, but she also hadn't asked him to leave.
She didn't even realize when sleep began to creep up on her.
Rayyan noticed the way her blinks grew slower, her posture relaxing against the headboard. He stood up quietly. "Are you sleepy?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Zeenat didn't answer, but the way her eyelids fluttered gave him all the response he needed.
Carefully, he adjusted the pillow behind her back, helping her lay properly. Then, with gentle hands, he pulled the sheet over her.
His movements were cautious, almost hesitant, as if afraid she would reject his help. But Zeenat didn't resist.
Rayyan exhaled softly before grabbing a pillow and heading toward the couch beside her bed. He switched off the light, allowing the room to settle into a peaceful dimness.
As he lay down, His eyes remained on her, watching the soft rise and fall of her breathing, until, eventually, sleep claimed him too.
The faint call of the Fajr Adhan echoed through the quiet room. Zeenat blinked awake, instinctively shifting to get up—but a sharp pain in her injured arm made her freeze. She winced slightly, adjusting herself against the pillow.
Rayyan stirred from the couch, rubbing a hand over his face before his gaze landed on her.
"Zeenat, you're awake. Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice still laced with sleep.
She didn't respond, pushing the sheets aside and attempting to stand. But the movement proved harder than she expected, and she struggled to find her balance.
Rayyan was beside her in an instant. "Do you need help?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"No," she answered firmly. She had managed fine yesterday with Anaya's help, and at night, Salima and Husaina had assisted her. But today, she wanted to do things on her own.
Still, when she reached the wardrobe, she realized just how difficult it was to pull out a fresh change of clothes with one functional hand.
Rayyan watched for a moment before stepping forward. "Let me help. Or should I call Salima or Husaina?"
She hesitated but said nothing. Pride battled with the growing ache in her arm.
Rayyan took her silence as permission. "Which one do you want?" he asked, flipping through her clothes.
After a moment, she pointed to a set, and he carefully handed it to her.
As she turned toward the bathroom, she noticed him walking alongside her.
She stopped abruptly. "Wait—what are you doing?" she asked, frowning.
Rayyan didn't answer. Instead, he entered the bathroom, adjusting the water temperature and setting up a small stool inside.
"I don't need all this," she muttered, watching him place a clean towel within reach.
"I'll wait outside. Take your time," he said simply, stepping out but leaving the door slightly open in case she needed him.
Once she finished, she struggled with the zipper of her dress. No matter how she twisted, it wouldn't budge.
Rayyan, still standing outside, noticed her hesitation when she stepped out. Without a word, he reached forward and zipped it up for her. His fingers brushed the fabric, but he was careful, keeping a respectful distance.
Zeenat stiffened, clearly uncomfortable. But before she could pull away, a thought struck her.
Zeenat shot him a glare, but he simply chuckled, stepping back.
When she entered the room again, she found a prayer mat already laid out for her, along with a hijab neatly folded beside it.
Rayyan moved away, giving her space.
Zeenat performed her salah in silence. As she finished, she turned slightly, noticing Rayyan beginning his own prayer. For the first time, she truly observed him—his posture, his focus, the quiet serenity in his expression.
When he finished, she bent down to fold the prayer mat.
Before she could, Rayyan took it from her hands. "You rest. I'll do it," he said.
Zeenat went back to the bed and sat down.
"What would you like to eat? I'll ask Salima and Husaina to prepare it for you," he asked.
"Anything," Zeenat responded, this time with a small smile.
Rayyan paused for a moment, then smiled back before leaving, giving her some privacy.
---
Around 8 AM
Rayyan was seated in the parlor, his laptop open in front of him, when Zeenat came downstairs. She was now dressed in a blue jilbab that enhanced her natural beauty, though the sling on her arm was still visible.
Rayyan looked up from his laptop and immediately noticed her.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his brows slightly furrowed.
"I want to go to work," Zeenat replied.
Rayyan stared at her in surprise. "Work? Like this?" he asked, reminding her of her condition.
"I think I'm good enough to manage," she said firmly. "And since our project lead isn't around, I don't want to have a pile of work waiting for me when I return."
Rayyan exhaled, shaking his head slightly. He understood her dedication but still didn't like the idea of her straining herself.
"Fine. If that's the case, I think we should work from home together. Let me help you with your tasks," he offered.
Before she could protest, he picked up his laptop and walked toward her. "Come on," he said, leading the way upstairs to his study, it's beautiful and comfortable.
Rayyan pulled out a chair at the desk and gestured toward it. "Sit down."
Zeenat hesitated for a moment before carefully lowering herself onto the seat, adjusting the sling on her arm. "Thank you," she murmured, glancing up at him briefly.
Rayyan gave a small nod, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips before he turned away.
Zeenat exhaled softly and opened her laptop, scrolling through the project reports that had piled up during her absence.
As the morning passed, she focused on supervising the team remotely—sending emails, reviewing reports, and giving necessary approvals. Rayyan, on the other hand, took it upon himself to set up everything for her—adjusting her screen, organizing documents, and even answering a few calls on her behalf.
She couldn't help but be grateful.
Nearly two hours later, Rayyan left the room for a while, only to return with a tray in his hands. On it was a small selection of snacks and a bottle of the exact yogurt she had asked him for three days ago.
Zeenat blinked in surprise as he placed it beside her laptop.
"You should eat something," he said, settling into the seat across from her.
A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. "Thank you," she said, looking down as she picked up the yogurt.
Rayyan didn't say anything—he just watched her for a brief moment before turning back to his work.
At one point, Zeenat furrowed her brows, struggling to make sense of a complicated data report. Rayyan, noticing her frustration, stood and walked over. Without warning, he leaned in from behind her, his arm brushing against her shoulder as he reached for the laptop.
"Here," he murmured, his voice low and close. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, explaining the figures on the screen.
Zeenat's grip on the laptop tightened. His proximity was overwhelming—the warmth of his presence, the subtle scent of his cologne, the deep timbre of his voice.
She hadn't even realized she was holding her breath.
Then, just as effortlessly as he had leaned in, Rayyan pulled back, returning to his seat as if nothing had happened.
Zeenat exhaled slowly, her fingers flexing over the keyboard as she struggled to refocus.
How could he be so unaffected when she was still trying to steady her heartbeat?
Throughout the day, they worked together, seamlessly shifting from Zeenat's workload to Rayyan's. She assisted where she could, and though he was more experienced in certain aspects, he appreciated her insight.
After Zuhur prayer, they returned to their workspace. Just as Zeenat was about to resume, Rayyan suddenly paused his work and, with a gentle motion, closed her laptop as well.
"Enough of work. Let's talk," he said, leaning back in his chair.
Zeenat blinked, surprised. "Rayyan, is everything okay?"
He gave a small chuckle. "Yes, Zeenat." He moved to sit opposite her, crossing his legs. "We've been working all day. Aren't you bored?"
Zeenat shook her head, and she meant it. Work had always been her escape. Outside of it, her life had never been particularly exciting.
Rayyan studied her for a moment before tilting his head. "Fine, even so, let's do something else. I want to know you beyond work. Your hobbies, likes, dislikes… anything. Or just tell me about yourself before we got married."
Zeenat hesitated, unsure of what to share. Her past wasn't one she often spoke about. But seeing the genuine curiosity in his eyes, she relented.
A soft smile played on her lips as she began talking—about her childhood, about Zayd. But when it came to her parents, there wasn't much to say. "I don't have many memories of my mom and dad. My father passed away when I was still very young, and my mother… she left one day, without a word. Even before my dad died."
Rayyan's expression softened. "I'm sorry, Zeenat."
She shrugged lightly, as if it no longer mattered, but deep down, a part of her still carried that weight.
Rayyan could see it. He couldn't fully understand the pain, having been raised by both parents—even if they had been separated—but he could sympathize.
For a while, he simply sat there, watching her, as if trying to piece together the story of her life through the small fragments she had shared.Just as he thought their conversation was coming to an end, Zeenat reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and pen, handing him another.
"Since we're going to start getting to know each other," she said with a small smile, flipping open her notebook, "let's write down all our likes and dislikes and share them."
Rayyan raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "No, you know what? Why don't we just spend more time together and figure it out as we go?" He smirked. "It'll be more fun that way."
Zeenat paused, considering his words, then smiled as she closed the notebook. "That actually sounds better," she admitted, sliding the book back into her bag.