HIDDEN SCARS✓

|•CHAPTER 2•|

The way my name escaped from his lips caused my heart to skip a beat, leaving me both surprised and exhilarated. I had never experienced someone saying my name so effortlessly and with such warmth before.

It stirred a range of emotions within me.

My mind raced, questioning why I hadn't greeted him earlier. Regret washed over me, but now I needed to decide what to say. Thoughts fluttered through my mind as I searched for the right words to erase my stupidity.

His intense gaze intensified my uneasiness.

The last time I saw him was,  during the mournful period for my late father, almost seven years ago. In that time, I had heard snippets of his life, how he had left to further his education and had taken up responsibilities related to his father's international affairs.

Trying hard to mask off my emotions, I mustered my courage and barely whispered, "Ina wuni, Hamma"

As my greetings reached his ears, his lips curved into a gentle smile that held the power to melt any girl's heart. Yet again, I found myself captivated, unable to look away from him as time seemed to stand still.

"How are you? How have you been?" he asked, his action up the stairs momentarily paused.

With a nod, I replied, "Alhamdulillah."

"Ma Sha Allah."

An awkward silence settled between us, yet his unwavering gaze persisted, affirming his interest in reconnecting.

Having gathered my thoughts, I stood up from the dining chair and made my decision. "Aunt, I should leave now. It's getting late."

She, sensing my discomfort, responded, "Alright, I'll ask the chauffeur to drop you off."

I shook my head, my weariness evident. "No, please, that's alright. I can go on my own, no troubles."

Her expression grew stern as concern crossed her face. "I can't be irresponsible enough to let you go home alone at this time, Jifa. It's almost 10 PM."

Attempting to decline, I began to protest, but was swiftly interrupted.

"I'll drop her off," he offered.

And that's how I found myself sitting in the same car with Hamma as he graciously offered to drive me home. He tried to engage in small talk, but my mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with worry.

I knew Umma wouldn't spare me today. I was in for it, no doubt about it. The impending punishment loomed over me like a dark cloud.

I was about to face the consequences all by myself.

There would be no one to save me from this ordeal. Lost in my own world, I pondered what awaited me upon reaching home. Thoughts of my mother's wrath consumed me, and I desperately sought an escape.

The fear of my mother's anger consumed my thoughts, making it difficult to engage in conversation. He attempting to strike up one only added to my distress.

"Yumna!!" he called out, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and concern, jolting me back to reality.

I flinched slightly, startled by the sudden break in my reverie.