Leilah Usman awaits an acceptance from a university abroad so she can leave the country she never loved when she stumbles upon an ancient diary. Through the eyes of Mahrosh Irfan, she finds herself in a world so completely different from hers.
One w...
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The bricks were hard against her back. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her sleeves and her gaze was fixated on the intricate pattern of her khussa chappal. A Kikar tree shaded over the alleyway steps, the leaves rustling as they peeked over at the pair that stood in their shade. Walid watched Mahrosh; the slight furrow to his brows the only hint of an expression on his face.
He had suggested that they go back to his place to talk but Mahrosh had denied, knowing that Aleena would be there. She stood now, completely aware of his burning gaze and refusing to meet it all the same.
Seconds trickled by in uncomfortable silence, till the two of them spoke up at the same time-
"Mahrosh-"
"I'm sorry-"
Her head raised in brief surprise. Walid was looking at her intently but his eyes were impossible to read. His gaze searched hers. "Why?"
It was a single word. A straight-forward question. Why?
Her gaze lowered again, hands fisting by her sides, "It was wrong of me, I know. I- I did not intend to use your name but it became difficult to stop once I started. I won't do it anymore, I promise -"
"But why my name? You could have made something up if you wished to remain anonymous," his voice was strangely calm- and it did not benefit Mahrosh who felt the heat crawl to her face.
"I did not wish to remain anonymous- I had no choice in the matter. I knew from the way he looked at me when I stepped inside that he would never accept the article if a girl had written it- he asked me who sent me to him and I- it was a mistake. I blurted out your name by accident."
Mahrosh glanced at Walid, but when his expression did not alter and he did not reply, she felt herself draw a sharp breath, consciously aware of what he must be thinking of her. "I didn't do it because I was thinking about you or anything. I just - I don't know any other guys. Everyone knows Abbu's name otherwise I would have used his - and I'm not making excuses here. I know what I did was wrong and it's entirely my fault." A pause. "I'm sorry. You can think of me what you must."
Walid observed the girl in front of him. A deep shade of red colored her cheeks and she refused to look his way, fists balled by her sides.
"And that's why you tried to hide the newspapers from me for as long as you could?"
Mahrosh's gaze snapped towards him.
Walid drew a slow breath, "I saw you with the newspaper nearly everyday on my way back from the masjid, Mahrosh. I found it strange at first, but it doesn't take long for one to connect the dots."
He knew. He had known all along. Her clenched fists loosened as she tried to register the fact-
