⚜♚38. Communication ♚⚜

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Congratulations! You guys won the comments challenge! This is a bonus chapter. The super long chapter will be out in a day or two, In Sha Allah!

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Yamna

Hoor Appi was in labour, but the medical team has asked the extended family not to come to the hospital yet as it could potentially be many hours before she gave birth.

Meanwhile, I had received an email to come to university for enrolment in the summer creative writing workshop, if I was still interested. I decided to quickly go and get it over and done with.

"Where are you going?" Rohaan asked me as I brushed my hair in front of the mirror. 

"To uni. I'm going to enrol myself in the creative writing workshop." I replied. "Just message me if there's an update, and I'll come straight to the hospital."

"You want me to drive you?" 

"No, it's fine. I'm going by Tube. It's quicker." 

"Okay, well, I'm going to work first, then I'll head to the hospital. I'll see you later. Allah Hafiz." Giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, he headed out.

I don't know why, but I felt a little weird about his almost indifferent behaviour towards me. Like I was irrelevant compared to the rest of his family. 

I groaned internally. I needed to stop these intrusive thoughts. Mama warned me that Shaiytan tries to create rifts between married couples by putting intrusive thoughts into their minds.

I won't allow that to happen. 

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"Yamna?" 

As I signed my name on the enrolment form, I looked up and see Basit Khan approach me. He had been a trainee lecturer during my last year of university, an alumni of the university as well. "Hi." 

"You're here too?" He gave me a small smile. He must have been in his mid-twenties, with straight dark hair that flopped onto his forehead, and prescription glasses. 

"Yeah. I love creative writing." I shrugged.

"Of course you do." His smile widened. "What are you up to these days? I've been hoping to see you at some time." 

"Why?" 

"I wanted to know if you wanted to have coffee with me." He spoke almost shyly.

"A-Are you asking me out?" I asked, confused. Nobody ever asked me out, and nor had I ever been interested in such things. 

"I'd really like that." He nodded.

"I'm married." I muttered.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Married? Already?" 

I nodded. 

"Oh." He looked stunned.

"Sorry." Why am I apologising?

"Were you forced?" His bewilderment was almost funny.

"No!" I shook my head. "I love my husband." 

"Congratulations, I suppose." He spoke begrudgingly. "I wish I had the guts to approach you earlier." 

"Even if you did, I would have said no. I never believed in dating." I spoke before I could stop myself. But I was proud of myself once the words had come out. No point in letting him dwelling on the 'what ifs'. He needed to know that he never had a chance.

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